Hark the Harold
Hark the Harold
Imagine for a moment that you’ve died and gone to heaven.
You’ve met Jesus—your Savior—face to face and fallen at His feet in worship. You’ve walked the streets, met the great figures of the faith: Abraham, Moses, David, Peter, Paul. And then it dawns on you—you are no longer bound by time.
You can move through it freely, the way one might cross a room.
Where would you go?
No matter the moment, God is there—quietly weaving a tapestry of perfection we could never fully see while bound to earth. Creation itself? Astonishing. The parting of the Red Sea? Magnificent. Mount Sinai? Awe-inspiring.
But there is one moment unlike all others.
The day He took on flesh.
The day heaven touched earth in the form of a child.
Bethlehem.
A small town. A borrowed stable. A feeding trough cradling the Messiah.
The shepherds saw the star. Angels tore open the sky. Glory spilled into the night.
If we could return to any moment again and again, wouldn’t it be this one? What else could cast even a shadow by comparison?
Would we sing?
Would we dance?
Would we shout?
I think we did.
I think we were already there.
A multitude.
An army.
Heaven itself rejoicing.
Were you there?
I was.
And I wasn’t alone.
Maybe that’s why we return every year. Not just to remember—but to rejoin the song.
What do you think?
Will you come back with me to the manger…
and lift your voice once again?
Share this post with one person who needs to remember that heaven still sings over the world—especially the unnoticed.
