Christmas is best pondered, not with logic, but with imagination.

Author Glennon Doyle Melton wrote, “Every time we open our mouths and speak, we are either saying let their be light or let their be darkness.

Let him into the mire and muck of our world. For only if we let him in can he pull us out.

Were it not for the shepherds, there would have been no reception. And were it not for a group of stargazers, there would have been no gifts.

He came, not as a flash of light or as an unapproachable conqueror, but as one whose first cries were heard by a peasant girl and a sleepy carpenter. God tapped humanity on its collective shoulder, "Pardon me," he said, and eternity interrupted time, divinity interrupted carnality, and heaven interrupted the earth in the form of a baby. Christianity was born in one big heavenly interruption.

Off to one side sits a group of shepherds. They sit silently on the floor, perhaps perplexed, perhaps in awe, no doubt in amazement. Their night watch had been interrupted by an explosion of light from heaven and a symphony of angels. God goes to those who have time to hear him-and so on this cloudless night he went to simple shepherds.