On the outskirts of Bethlehem a grass covered field lays as an emerald gem against the backdrop of dusty, dry desert. It’s known as the Shepherd’s Field. Multiple shepherds bring their flocks there to graze and lie down upon the tender grass.
As the sun begins to inch towards the horizon at the closing of the day, each shepherd calls to his sheep. To the observer, there is a cacophony of voices traveling across the hillside. But to the sheep, they hear one voice — the voice of their own shepherd. The other voices are mere noise. The voice of their shepherd rises above the din and they follow him back home.Read More