The stable is nestled against a hill, lit from within. Bethlehem twinkles in the background. The sun has set but the clouds still glow red with the last of its light. 

I wanted there to be something very quiet and intimate about the scene. You can see the small figures of the Holy Family gazing down at their newborn baby, who glows with divine light. Shepherds approach reverently from the dark fields, surrounded by their flock.

Whenever I pray this mystery, I think about the stable—the humble building where our Saviour chose to be born. Rough stone and wood, smelling of animals, cold seeping through the cracks. And yet, when Jesus entered it became the holiest place on earth—not because of what it could offer Him, but because of His presence there.

Such is my heart: poor and unworthy. Yet I can invite Jesus in. When He makes His dwelling here, I become holy, not because of who I am or what I can do, but because He is there.

This painting is part of a series I am slowly creating on the Mysteries of the Rosary.