Sheperds watch are keeping...

The hustle and bustle of hosting 16 + guests on Christmas day is over now and I sit now this Monday morning at 7:00am with my warm cup of tea trying to put into words what happened in my spirit on Christmas Eve.  A hike to twin peaks was what I really desired that day - and it was granted to me as a gift - accompanied by someone dear to me.  Turns out he was missing his family that day - and perhaps the walk was as much a gift to him as it was to me.  Later, as I mopped our dining room floor and listened to my Christmas mix . . . shepherds watch are keeping . . . the words stuck, rung, and circled in my head.  I began to play with the syntax in my mind.  In commoner language, we would say that the shepherds are keeping watch, but that wouldn't rhyme very well with the child who is sleeping in Mary's lap. Sleeping and Keeping end up at the end of these beautifully poetic phrases which have become so familiar to us. But as my mind played with these words, it switched out are and replaced it with is:  "Shepherds watch is keeping." If shepherds remains plural, then the only noun left to do the keeping is the watch.  This linguistic backflip in my head was like an epiphany (a little early - because January 6 is still on it's way).  My thought process:  Just as the shepherds were caring and watching over the sheep, the very act of watching was what kept them where they needed to be to hear the good news of redemption, the birth of a child who would save us from our sinful selves.  Even as I continued to mop the floor, I thought of those I keep watch over - some near, some far, some only in my prayers.  My children, of course, are the primary receivers of my care.  But this very act of caring, of keeping watch, actually keeps me.  Even preparing a place for people to gather on Christmas Day keeps me - taking into consideration the unique needs of each individual and family, which can be tricky, actually.  For children of divorce, Christmas is a time of year when the brokenness that cuts deep into our souls is acutely felt.  Knowing this as a child of divorce myself renders the holiday season potentially unbearable as I contemplate the sad reality that my own children now face this same brokenness day in and day out.  A simple walk on Christmas Eve, caring for someone I love, kept me . . . sane, safe, where I needed to be to hear the good news.  Caring for and watching over one another keeps us all right where we need to be, waiting for God to save us from ourselves.