“Then she gave birth to her firstborn Son, and she wrapped Him snugly in cloth and laid Him in a feeding trough—because there was no room for them at the lodging place.”
- Luke 2:7 HCSB
We often picture the night Jesus was born as quiet and peaceful—soft hay, a warm glow, Mary and Joseph kneeling nearby. And somewhere in that stable, sharing space with the Savior of the world, were the animals.
Scripture doesn’t tell us much about them, but we know they were likely there. An ox. A donkey. Creatures that lived simple lives of routine and obedience. They didn’t understand prophecy or angels or salvation. Yet when Jesus entered the world, they stayed. They didn’t scatter. They didn’t turn away. They simply shared the space where God chose to arrive.
That thought has stayed with me this Christmas season.
The animals in the stable didn’t bring gifts. They didn’t sing songs. They didn’t know the words Messiah or Emmanuel. But they offered something just as meaningful—presence. Warmth. Peace. Steady companionship in a holy moment.
That kind of love feels familiar.
I see it every day in my two labradoodles, Charlie and Molly. They don’t know theology. They don’t understand Christmas sermons or candlelight services. But they know how to stay close. They know how to love without condition. They know how to lie at my feet, follow me from room to room, and look at me as if I’m the most important person in the world.
In many ways, their love mirrors the animals in the stable that first Christmas.
They don’t try to impress. They don’t strive for attention (most of the time anyway). They simply remain faithful, gentle, and content to be near. And in that nearness, there is comfort.
Jesus came into a world that didn’t fully understand Him (and the world still doesn’t). Yet He came anyway. And often, it’s not our polished prayers or perfect words that matter most—it’s our willingness to stay close.
I’m sure that the animals didn’t leave the stable when things got uncomfortable.
Just like my doodle dogs don’t leave when I’m tired, distracted, or worn down.
And Jesus doesn’t leave us when we struggle, doubt, or fall short.
As we move toward Christmas and then into a new year, maybe that’s a lesson worth carrying forward.
Stay close to Jesus.
Rest in His presence.
Offer Him our quiet faithfulness.
Just like the animals in the stable.
Just like two labradoodles curled up nearby.
Because sometimes the greatest act of worship isn’t what we do—it’s simply choosing to remain where Jesus is.
Stay near the manger… and keep following Jesus into the days ahead.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
“The ox knows its owner,
and the donkey its master’s feeding trough, but Israel does not know;
My people do not understand.”
- Isaiah 1:3 HCSB
