I think a lot about how ordinary life must have been before the Luke 2 shepherds encountered Jesus. Nothing but the sound of a quiet Bethlehem hillside, and then—FEAR NOT I bring you good news of great joy unto you is born this day a SAVIOR, who is CHRIST THE LORD! How incredibly shocked those poor, blessed shepherds must have been.

Christmas season in our culture is the opposite of a silent Bethlehem hillside. Even as someone who chooses simplicity as much as i can, this time of year is a huge temptation to step past my capacity in so many areas. Even good things can cause so much mind clutter. I catch myself meditating on my desires do more, have more, give more, be more.

I wish that for one moment I could step back in time, into the sandals of one of those shepherds.

Instead of the warmth of christmas pajamas and twinkling lights, the chill and darkness of a still night crawling under my skin.

Instead of santa songs in every single store I walk into, only the sounds of wind whistling and sheep settling down for the night.

Instead of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and lasagna from our favorite Italian restaurant, a meal that probably wasn’t very craveable.

Don’t get me wrong—I am a Christmas girly through and through. Gift giving is my love language & I am THRIVING right now. I firmly believe that good Christmas cookies taste better than any other food. And I love the beautiful opportunity we’re offered to share the love of Jesus with a hurting world when hearts might be a little more open to the message.

But how much more would our own hearts be filled with wonder if the noise of December was turned down, just a little bit?

This blurry, dark, adorable picture is some of the only evidence on my phone of one of the most special nights of our year!

Last year and this year (it’s a tradition now!), Cameron and I have hosted something we call a “shepherd’s dinner” at Christmastime. We invite friends and family to sing Christmas carols and read scripture passages in my in-law’s barn. Everyone is crowded together, sitting on hay bales with light mostly just from battery-lit candles. We sing acapella and no one ever knows who’s supposed to sing out the first note at the beginning of each song. Everyone pulls their coats a little tighter when the wind blows in. This is our small way to step out of the busyness, for one night, and let the truth of what happened over 2,000 years of cold nights ago wash over us all over again.

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris’n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King.

My eyes keep filling up while we sing this verse of a Christmas hymn I’ve heard a thousand times. The Son of Righteousness, laid in a manger filled with the same scratchy hay that pokes my legs through my jeans. Mild He lay His glory by, choosing to be born into a body just as helpless and small as Henry snuggled against my chest. Ellie touches her nose with her battery candle with not a care in the world while we sing born that man no more may die. Born that my precious two-year-old, who already feels the effects of the fall every day, has hope. Born that I have hope. I sing glory to the newborn King, and I echo the song of a multitude of the heavenly host.

“A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from His roots a Branch will bear fruit. The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him— the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the LORD and He will delight in the fear of the LORD. He will not judge by what he sees with His eyes, or decide by what He hears with His ears; but with righteousness He will judge the needy, with justice He will give decisions for the poor of the earth…They will neither harm nor destroy on all My holy mountain, for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to Him, and His resting place will be glorious.” – from Isaiah 11

Our friends and family members take turns reading scripture after each song, and when my dad reads these verses I remember what a blessing it is that we’re on this side of the story. For centuries God’s people waited on the root of Jesse. and Jesus came for every longing heart. Now we’re waiting on the next part of the story, and as surely as God kept His promise and the Savior came to earth the first time, He will keep His promise again. The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord.

It’s not all contemplation and worship up in the barn—the kids end up having a light saber fight with their candles, I think too much about what my voice sounds like, et cetera et cetera. We’re still firmly anchored to this world of dirt and dust where our Savior came down, but it sure feels like a taste of heaven.

Cam prays after we sing the last song and we all pile into our living room to enjoy the soups and cookies everyone brought to share, potluck style. Our tree is lit, we set up a hot cocoa bar with all the fixings, and we hand a small present to each family as they leave, but preparation was simple and the focus of the night is not really on food or gifts or anything that will fade away after all of our guests go home. Even in our simple time spent together, chasing toddlers, sipping hot drinks, eating the most delicious soups, we celebrate the gift shared among us—hope of heaven. Joy that does not pass away.

I hope and pray that this tradition will continue on in our family, maybe for generations! My kids were so excited as we got ready to host. I know this will be something they look forward to each year.

I share this little bit of my heart and our Christmas with you in hopes that you are encouraged by the same truth I was reminded of on this night. And if you’re feeling the same pull towards simplicity and wonder and you might want to hold something like this in your own home, you absolutely can do it! Right now we are renting space from Cam’s parents and have access to a horse barn in their yard which is so fun. But a shepherd’s dinner doesn’t require a barn or special candles or a big group of people to share it with. You can host something like this in a circle of folding chairs in the yard with the help of some big winter coats, around a bonfire, in a church basement, or with just your family in the quiet of your home. There are no rules! If you want to create a shepherd’s dinner for your own community, I’ll share a few resources below.

Song sheets

Scripture readings | these are all in ESV

Battery candles

Christmas playlist | the mix of Christmas hymns, worship songs & classics on repeat in our house this year

Crockpot hot chocolate recipe | big hostess energy—set out a cute tray next to the crockpot with a can of whipped cream and little jars of mini chocolate chips, crushed candy canes, gingersnap crumbles, caramel drizzle & peppermint syrup and you have a deluxe cocoa bar

The Lifegiving Home | Last fall, I read this book by Sally Clarkson and it was…so life-giving! It did so much for my perspective, especially around traditions within the home. The shepherd’s meal she shares about in that book (and in this blog post) sparked inspiration for the version that we do.

Praying for you this year, friend. No matter what we’re walking through, we serve a Savior who sees us and comes near and keeps His promises.

Posted by Megan

Hey there, I’m Megan! You can usually find me dreaming up a new project with my husband, trying to figure out homeschool with my two girls while my little boy explores the pots and pans cabinet, or excavating a pile of laundry with coffee in my hand. We live in New England and our dog is named Moose.

Connect: @lilac.and.sparrow