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One of my favorite things to do is read poetry to my children. There are some beautifully whimsical childrens poetry books out there … that seem to be just at my level .

I love words. Phrases — word pictures — artfully constructed, even better. Other than in my required writing journal from the seventh grade and a haiku I once wrote about Nate, I’m not sure I’ve ever tried my hand at poetry. But the next best thing is what I’m going to call my “free skate.”

Every Sunday/Monday (or as often as I can remember, but it just sounds more official to declare this will be a weekly event), I’m going to give myself permission to color outside of the lines. This left-brainer is going to diverge from her routine. To wing it. Sort of.

There won’t any poetry here, at least not yet. But it will be …something different. (Kind of like this).

“Just let me see Your beauty” was the silent anthem of the men, more likely boys, who traveled far and wide to seek out the mystery.

Though unspoken, at least as far as we know, their desire for the incorruptible led them. They were made for so much more. With haste, they left all, to seek out their fulfillment. The sky filled with the angels’ chorus, the glory of the Lord dripping from their coats, they had no other option. These lowly shepherd boys would be forever memorialized for their invitation to be the first ones on the scene of Beauty’s breaking in to the earth.

This promise of a Son was their promise. They received their ticket to beauty. The earth finally ruptured from the weight of prophecies fulfilled. A child was born. The first fruits of the last trumpet. The path to immortality descended. The Man whose return would redeem the earth, came. And their common callings made them prime candidates to welcome the One laid in straw who would save the hearts of kings.

The least-expected place was the scene for the world’s greatest expectancy. And the shepherd boy relayed the news. Delivered from herding sheep, for one night, to witness and be the messengers of a beauty which would, one day, encompass the entire earth — shepherding would never be the same for them again.

What their ancestors had studied for hundreds of years was fulfilled in their midst. In part. And Its beauty was not discriminate; though some may argue it required the humility of backstage hands to receive it. With it, came the whisper that more was to come. Beauty would unfold. What was almost imperceptible to the common eye now would grow.

The wait for this Man-child was taut until, finally, creation’s cry could wait no more. Words on a page that became rote history, in the twinkling of an eye, were changed. Just as the men who would first behold them.

But this was only a precursor to the greater glory which would come. And these men, and this night, a first taste of beauty come down. Their adventurous hearts, masked in average callings, made them candidates. Their whole lives had been a preparation for this day. And this day, a preparation for One their descendants would have opportunity to midwife.

Two thousand years later their legacy makes me desirous of that same early-encounter with beauty. Let me know it now, so I can see it when it comes, again. Most all missed that precious, holy night when Beauty was birthed. All but a few homely shepherds.

They had the first introduction to a most unexpected majesty.

So that I can know that beauty. And anticipate the day when it comes again.

Their surprise; my cause for preparation.