A Winter's Night Vigil

Hank and I make our way back from the barn on this winter's night. By the moon's light, I watch Hank as he playfully hops across the yard, following rabbit tracks in the snow, taking time to inhale deeply in the snow as he goes. I am happy to be here as this is a wonderful interlude from the world of inside...of heated rooms and bright lights where one night is like another and the winter nights pass unnoticed. Out here, our senses are no longer dull. Hank stops his playfulness to listen to another dog barking far off in the distance. I can hear the sheep quietly and thoughtfully chewing their hay. "Listen," says St. Benedict, "with the ear of your heart."

I envy the sheep as they keep their night vigil, senses keen, watching the night unfold. The sounds of the night will not pass unheard. It is the sheep that will watch the silent wanderers that pass through the farm at night. They will watch the cats out cunningly hunting for rabbits and mice in the moonlight...not like Hank. They will hear the owl calling from the woods long after I have closed the door.They will watch the stars and moon work their way across the sky. They will lift their heads as the mice venture out of the shadows to drink from the water pail. They grow comfortable with the night's shadows. They will not extract what they prefer from the winter's night, unlike us, but will know all of it. And when their heads bow in sleep after watching all, they are never far away.

As Hank and I return to the house, I turn and take one last look...straining to listen for far off and near sounds that I am meant to hear...and then step into the house. People sometimes ask me why I choose to raise sheep. I suppose that sharing in the winter's night vigil is one of several good reasons.

I pray for you all that the journey of 2010 opens doors, brings you challenges and excitement yet moments of intimacy, lets you know that you know that you know... you are home indeed and loved!