The Journey of Promise
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| (free photo from pixabay.com) |
Earlier this week Jeff asked me a question about the journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem. I had thought of it before when I had written a few Christmas Plays for our home church (many eons ago!!) but had been so busy of late, I had not paused long enough to think. I haven't had the joy of watching any Nativity movies in many years about the birth of Christ--which was something I always enjoyed! A few select HGTV shows or a couple of the better Hallmark movies in the spare parts of the week have been the sum of it.
The Journey of Promise
© Angie Knight 2023. All rights reserved.
This was not what she had in mind for their first trip together. But in Mary’s mind—she would rather obey the instruction of God than anything else in the world. That was just her nature—her character. Mary wasn’t a complainer by nature—and she wasn’t about to start today.
When Joseph hoisted her up on the patient donkey, she gave the length of the journey more thought. Joseph had told her how far it was, the different routes they could take, and how many days it would take. Would it take longer? Would they encounter dangers along the way? What if it rained? These and other questions pelted her mind like grains of sand against the skin in a hard wind storm. She sat up straight on the donkey, straightened her shoulders and once again had that determined gleam to her eyes that had kept her heart steady all her life.
In the animal skin bag hanging nearest her leg was the water they would sparingly sip as they journeyed, filling it at every watering hole they came to. Next to that were morsels of the dried fruit, nuts, little loaves of bread, and dried meats from her mother’s storage, carefully prepared and gladly given to keep them going with the strength they would need for this several day journey.
Roughly 90 miles, taking the longest way, Joseph worried how Mary would fare on the terrain. It was the longest way, but it was also the safest way.
He had prayed silently as he had worked earlier that morning, saddling the donkey with layers upon layers of blankets. His heart still ached at the likelihood of her discomfort—but this was something he could not change. And no angel had appeared to him to tell him not to go. So, go they must.
As her mother and father prayed for them before they left—the heart of her mother was worried—even though she tried not to allow her eyes to reveal it—it was just too close for Mary’s time. But Mary had leaned over from her perch on the sturdy donkey, patted her shoulder and assured her that God would take care of them. "Oh", her mother sighed, "if only she had the faith of Mary."
Mary’s soft-spoken ways had always amazed her. Many mistook that for a weakness in Mary—but that was one of her strengths. To be able to speak with a quiet calm in the midst of the often loud-life with all the neighboring children she often had on her heels. Her mother’s sigh of resignation at the end of the prayer said volumes: “We gave her to You, God, when she was just days old—we aren’t taking her back today. Go with them please, after all—You are the one who started this.”
The first few days passed fairly uneventfully. The days were hot with the sun bearing down, and the evenings brought a chill that caused them to huddle close to one another near the fire Joseph had built each evening. Sleep was difficult. Even using all the blankets he had layered on the donkey, Mary still couldn’t find comfort for long—but she loved the warmth coming from her husband.
“Her husband”. That still felt new and unfamiliar as it rolled around in her mind. Her heart and mind had finally relaxed when Joseph shared his dream with her of how the angel had assured him that all the things she had told him were indeed true.
The final day of the journey dawned earlier than it should have—it seemed—but only because sleep was almost absent from both of them. Joseph was more concerned for Mary this morning—because he knew she had not slept the night before. He could feel her body tense up as she lay as close to him as possible for warmth. He loved that. He knew this babe was from God—yet he also claimed the unborn child as his own. Joseph would do his very best to care for them all. This seemingly impossible journey was wearing on both of them today. He would have to keep a close eye on Mary—all the while hurrying the little donkey as fast as he dared to get her to Bethlehem before nightfall.
Mary’s mother had privately told him all the things to watch for in Mary’s countenance. This morning as he helped her onto the donkey, he noticed as he studied her face that it didn’t have the peaceful expression of the morning they left. He feared today would prove to be the most strenuous for her. But Mary kept quiet. Smiling to him in gratitude for all the little things he did to make her more comfortable. Oh, how he loved Mary.
At each point of rest, Mary seemed more tired and spoke less than any other day on the journey. He face seemed tense as she leaned down for Joseph to help her from her place on the donkey. There seemed to be fear in her eyes. He never knew Mary to show fear—but then, she had never been in a place back home to be fearful.
Mary’s busy mind she was trying to remember all the things her mother and her aunt Elizabeth had said would happen. What to expect. What to be aware of. Up until today, the discomfort had not been as strong as it was today. But today, she could no longer identify it as discomfort, but rather—sharp pain.
“Oh, Father God”, she silently continued her morning prayer, “please help me today be strong. Help me not worry Joseph”. She paused her prayer as a pain seized her and her breathing had to change to compensate for the intensity.
They were almost there. It seemed as if the sun were going down faster today, as if to usher in the night with an unexpected and unexplained speed.
Joseph pulled tighter on the donkey’s rope. The donkey, obedient and compliant up to this point—seemed to want to strain against the urgent pulling of his master. When Joseph tapped him on the side with his staff, the donkey relinquished his stubbornness to submission once again and complied with his master. Almost as if an unseen force urged him from behind.
By the time they reached the city gates, Mary’s eyes were filled with hot tears that she refused to release. Joseph pulled harder on the rope. Even though this was his ancestral town, he had not a clue if any of his relatives were still nearby. He inquired at the gate as one lone man stood there, as if he were expecting someone soon.
The man pointed him in the direction of the local inn, but shook his head at the questions of the unfamiliar names that Joseph recalled his father once talking about.
“Well, the inn it must be then”, thought Joseph, as he had initially hoped they would find relatives who could take them in and help Mary. His guts told him this would be a difficult night for her. Her usual peaceful face could no longer hide the pain as tears escaped her eyes without her permission.
“Please, God, please help my Mary”, Joseph whispered now. More open and aloud than silent as before.
At the inn, he could hear noise from inside. It seemed the whole city was still stirring even though the sun had now completely disappeared.
Joseph rapped on the door with his staff. No answer. He struck the door again. Harder now with the urgency he felt—something unspoken yet deeply felt, “this would be a long night”.
He glanced over his shoulder as he waited for the innkeeper. Mary’s head was bowed and her hand went up to wipe her eyes as the tears came—he knew she was in pain—and he knew as her lips were moving—she was praying.
Finally the door opened a bit. The innkeeper, hot, sweaty, obviously very busy shook his head at the questions of Joseph for a place for he and his wife. Joseph’s voice pleaded with an urgency he had never felt before, causing the innkeeper to look beyond him at the young woman perched on the donkey—obviously uncomfortable. Probably from all the riding he assumed.
At that moment—almost involuntarily, he remembered the only place in the whole of Bethlehem that might not be bursting at the seams with people: the stable.
At the suggestion, the young man didn’t even hesitate. He was grateful. The heart of the innkeeper softened more and he asked Joseph to wait just a moment. He turned back in and disappeared for what felt like days, but was in fact only a minute and brought forth a skin of fresh goats milk and a portion of a loaf of bread from their meal. He nodded his head at the grateful words came from Joseph’s lips as he turned and handed the bread and milk up to Mary. She took it and held it tightly to her chest. The innkeeper thought, “they must be starving”, not knowing it was the pain she felt at that moment to hold it so tightly.
When they made it to the stable, which actually an area that seemed to be partially cut into the side of the hill on the edge of the city, he helped Mary down as carefully as he could. Her weary head rested against his shoulder and he could feel her breathing seem to relax just a bit.
He whispered words of comfort to her, encouraging her as best he could, all the while his own mind was running away with him like a team of fast horses in a chariot race.
He quickly made her a makeshift bed with the blankets he had pulled from the back of the donkey. He began piling up straw from the stable areas of where the animals had lain. It wasn’t fresh, but it would be softer than the hard ground they had lain on for the past three nights. The best place was in the back of the stable-cave, out of the night air to hopefully provide more warmth for her. He built a small fire a few feet away from her to warm the bread on a rock he found nearby.
He kept glancing over at Mary, keeping an eye on her for any signs of more pain. Her face still held the tension he had witnessed all day. As her eyes opened and fastened on him, she told him quietly what he needed to pull from her wrapped up belongings.
“Get the clean cloths, Joseph, they are wrapped up together. Pour some water in the clay bowl and set it close to the fire.” As she stopped talking in a gasp of pain, he rushed back over to her, taking her hand. Holding her hand, her grip tightened as the pain coursed through her. Another fresh tear escaped but her lips held tight.
“Joseph, I believe this baby will be born tonight”. At that, Joseph got up and hurriedly did all the things Mary had told him.
Joseph, although a carpenter by trade, was not inept when it came to animals. He had been around all manner of livestock and knew the process. He knew it could be a very long night.
As he finished getting everything together, he brought a cloth damp with water and wiped Mary’s face. Her weak smile of gratitude made his own eyes fill with tears. “I’m here for you Mary. I will never leave your side.”
As the night wore on and the pain intensified, Joseph felt his love for Mary and this unborn baby grow to unimaginable proportions. He would give his life for them. He felt that in his bones.
The birth came with no family huddled close by to hold Mary’s hand or help her in the way as were the customs. But Joseph held her hand, wiped her face, spoke gently-and encouragingly as he saw her strength begin to fade— “You can do this, Mary, you were chosen for this! I am here. I am not leaving. I love you.”
When the time finally came for the final push that landed the King of kings into the waiting hands of Joseph, it seemed only a few seconds before the lusty cry of the baby was heard and echoed in the cave. At that moment—it seemed as if all outside noises—the crickets, the cicadas, the hum of life in the nearby city of Bethlehem seemed to stop. The cry of the baby matched the joy that seemed to permeate and pulse in the air around them.
Joseph quickly handed the little one to his mother. Mary’s eyes no long had tears of pain, but the tears that now flowed were from a heart of pure joy. While she didn’t understand it all—she knew. The heart of her knew and held tightly all the hopes of leading, loving and nurturing this little gift.
Before they wrapped the baby in the cloths Mary had brought, Joseph did all he could to make her more comfortable. Mary’s face was wreathed in unexplainable peace, and Joseph’s heart was near bursting with joy.
Mary and Joseph closely counted and examined every finger and every tiny toe of the baby. They whispered His name in unison: "Jesus." The first time they spoke His name aloud seemed to send an electric charge throughout the stable. The animals nearby that were resting raised their heads and looked in the direction of the low lit cave.
The short matted hair already had little curls. His now opened and observant eyes seemed to take in more than just the eyes of his mother. His crying had ceased and he wiggled in her arms just a bit to remind her of what he felt like when he was inside her.
He was here. Finally, Jesus, the Promised One was here.
© Angie Knight. All rights reserved.
love this!!!! what a little gift you shared with us!!! Thank you Angie!!!
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