**The Night Watch: A Story of Faithful Servants in the House of the Lord**
In the quiet stillness of Jerusalem’s night, when the city slept beneath a blanket of stars, the great Temple of the Lord stood as a beacon of holiness. The moon cast its silver glow upon the white stones, and the golden gates shimmered faintly in the dim light. The bustling crowds of the day had long since dispersed, the merchants had packed away their wares, and the pilgrims had retired to their lodgings. But within the sacred courts, the Levitical priests remained, their duty unbroken by the passing of the hours.
Among them was a man named Eliab, a priest of the sons of Korah, whose lineage had been set apart for the service of the sanctuary. His hands, calloused from years of handling the sacred vessels, were steady as he trimmed the wicks of the golden lampstand, ensuring that the light of the menorah would not go out before dawn. The sweet scent of incense lingered in the air, a remnant of the evening offering, and the quiet murmur of prayers filled the space between the pillars.
Eliab turned to his fellow priests, their faces illuminated by the flickering oil lamps. “Come, brothers,” he said softly, “let us bless the Lord in the night, as our fathers have done before us.”
The men gathered in the shadow of the great altar, their voices rising in harmony as they recited the words of the psalmist:
*”Behold, bless the Lord, all you servants of the Lord, who by night stand in the house of the Lord! Lift up your hands in the sanctuary, and bless the Lord.”* (Psalm 134:1-2)
Their hands lifted toward the heavens, palms open in surrender and praise. The night was not a time of idleness for them, but a sacred vigil, a continuation of worship that knew no end. They were keepers of the flame, guardians of the holy place, and their devotion did not wane when the world around them slept.
As they prayed, Eliab remembered the stories of old—how his ancestors had ministered before the Ark of the Covenant, how Samuel had heard the voice of God in the quiet of the night, and how David himself had sung psalms under the same stars. This was no ordinary duty; it was a privilege, a calling that bound them to the very heart of God’s presence.
The hours passed in prayer and song, until at last the first hints of dawn painted the eastern sky with streaks of rose and gold. The night watch was ending, but their worship was eternal. Before dispersing, Eliab raised his voice once more, echoing the final words of the psalm:
*”May the Lord bless you from Zion, He who made heaven and earth!”* (Psalm 134:3)
With those words, the priests departed, their hearts full, knowing that their service—whether in the brightness of day or the depth of night—was pleasing to the One who neither slumbered nor slept. And as the sun climbed above the Mount of Olives, the Temple courts stirred once more with life, the sacred cycle of worship unbroken, just as it had been for generations, and just as it would be until the end of days.
**The End.**
