In the Stillness of the Night

In the stillness of the night He reaches down

and gently lifts the lamb into His arms.

Hands signed with the calluses of the carpenter look rough,

yet possess the strength of all the world.

The places where the nails have pierced stand out in witness to the truth.

There is no pain but floods of love flow from these imponderable wounds.

Stillness fills the night.

Its darkness holds the breathless scene.

The journey has been long

and the fear still clings to the little one He holds.

Words no longer pass between the two or emanate into the darkness,

There is no darkness left to fear.

There is only the holy hands.

What was the run for?

What was the journey into the night all about?

The lamb gives up its sigh and falls within the embrace of the shepherd.

He brings His precious child closer,

pressing its tear soaked head against His shoulder.

There is no night.

There is no race against the world.

In the stillness of the night

the little one lets go of the past and the fear and the pain.

With the last sigh

the lamb rests within the arms of His maker.

Tilting back its head it finds the precious quest it sought.

It finds the peace of the Lord.

William C. Joyce III

May 1995