So did they

The hallelujahs began to rise, cascading through the valleys like waves, as the heavens opened wide and angels filled the sky.

The rivers sung in melody, the hills bowed low in reverence, and even the wind whispered its praise. Creation joined in one resounding chorus: heaven and nature sang.

Beneath that radiant sky, shepherds stood frozen in awe, their breath stolen by the wonder before them. They had heard the message first—the glad tidings of a Savior’s birth.

No one had ever chosen them first.

They were the overlooked, the outcasts, invisible in a world that had no place for them. Uninvited to tables, ignored in crowds, unwanted by all. But that night, they were seen.

The God of Heaven did not pass them by.

He chose them.

For this holy moment, they were called—not for their status, not for their worth in the eyes of men, but to send a message that he had come for ALL. He invited them to be the first to welcome His Son into the world.

And so it was that the first faces the newborn King beheld were not rulers or scholars but weathered, humble shepherds.

The first songs to fill His tiny ears came from broken voices, choked with emotion, as tears carved clean trails through dirt-streaked cheeks. These men, who had been dismissed by all, knelt at the manger and sang their praises to the One who had formed them in the secret places of their mothers’ wombs.

They were unworthy in the eyes of the world, but as they gazed into the face of the Holy One, they felt it—the warmth of being wanted.

The uninvited found themselves welcomed with open arms.

Heaven and nature sang, but that night, so did the forgotten. The Savior had come. And He had come for them.

The melody of redemption filled the stillness, and their voices rose with it.

Heaven and nature sang.

And so did they.🤍