The
Birth
All of
my life, as far back as I can remember, my family has planned for the day that
I would be married. It is the custom of our people that I must marry
within my own tribe. We marry very young, as a marriage is the joining
for families and resources and is very important to the thriving of our people.
My
husband had been chosen and the betrothal of marriage complete by the time I am
9 years old. The groom’s father paid the mohar to my family which
consisted of a beautiful vineyard, six pieces of silver, and reams of silk
cloth. My father, being a kind man, held these gifts until the final
marriage ceremony at which time I would have gone to live with my husband’s
family. My father, being a kind man, planned to share some of the mohar
with my groom and me so we could have some security as we started our lives
together. However, my groom is killed at an early age before I even have
grown enough to go live with him.
Fate is
a mysterious thing. I am only two months away from my 16th birthday when
this happens. We were only weeks away from the wedding to celebrate my
leaving to live with my new husband. My mother has been preparing for
this day in great anticipation. Our people love gathering for blessed
events such as this as a woman is looked fondly upon by the tribe for her
hospitality and the men love an excuse to have a festival and cease a day’s
work. Now I am faced with the grief of losing my groom and other things
are happening that make no sense to me.
My
mother sits and weeps and I know not how to comfort her. My father paces
the room and my brothers and father are speaking in low urgent voices. I
have brought them great shame, yet I swear I am innocent. I see the doubt
in their eyes and I have never known such despair.
Not
only am I without a husband, but I am with child. I know not how.
My monthly cycle did not happen as expected, but since I have never been with a
man I assumed I was ill, or perhaps it was late because of my upset. I
went to my mother and told her I must see the physician. Before I could
catch my breath our entire lives had changed from eager anticipation---to
despair. I hate the look of disappointment in my father’s
eye. I reach for his hand and he pulls from my touch. My heart
stabs with pain as I love my father and it kills me to no longer have his
admiration.
My
brother has told my father of a widower in the tribe whose wife has been taken
to heaven. The man’s name is Joseph and he has several children and no
one to help him in his household to raise them.
My
father summons for Joseph, offering him the entire dowry, if only he will marry
me and provide me protection from disgrace.
I have
cried until my eyes have dried up and swollen so that I have trouble with my
vision. As I slept fitfully last night, God seemed to speak to me and
offer me assurance. I know not why this is happening, but I am trying to
keep my heart open for understanding.
Joseph
complains to my father as he is much older than me and feels he is not the best
solution for a husband. However, he has agreed to go to God in prayer
tonight for guidance.
I know
not what to do. I am lost and afraid.
Joseph
arrived this morning and said that an angel had spoken to him during his prayer
and fasting.
The
angel had said,“Do not fear to take Mary as your wife. The child she
carries is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son and you shall call him
Jesus, God with us, and he will save people from their sins”.
So when
Joseph awakened, he hastened here to tell me and my father the good news.
Joseph warned me that his children are not in favor of our union, but he
assures me they will grow accustomed to it.
Although
I have some trepidation as to Joseph’s age, he seems to be a gentle man and it
will save my family from disgrace. No one will believe that the child I
carry is conceived of the Holy Spirit. I will keep this close to my heart
until which time God leads me otherwise. If I speak of this openly they
will think me possessed by demons or a liar.
My
mother has come from the market square, trading goods for fresh produce.
She has learned that a kinswoman in our family, an older woman beyond
childbearing years, is with child and expecting to deliver within the next
three months. Because of the risks of this woman baring a child in
advanced years, my mother is sending me to stay with her until her baby is born
to assist her with chores. This will be good experience for me as I will learn
the ways of which one births a child.
Joseph
will go ahead and prepare a home for us from my dowry while I service my
kinswoman, Elizabeth in the house of Zechariah.
I
packed a bag of clothing and left on a donkey for the city of Judah to stay
with Elizabeth. My time there was special. Elizabeth, though old
enough to be my own mother, was very kind. When I entered her house the
first day, she laughed, grabbing her extended womb, as the babe within her had
kicked hard almost as if in response to my entering the threshold of their
domain.
Elizabeth
laughed, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your
womb. Why is it I am favored that the mother of my Lord and Savior should
come to service me in my own household?”
She
leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I felt love for her
instantly. She knew of my condition and even knew of my innocence, yet I
know not how. I found joy in it. I was blessed by her—comforted by
the Holy Spirit through her kindness to me. God was offering me love
poured out through this woman, his servant in the kingdom of heaven. Our
children will be close in age and perhaps Jesus and John will be friends as
well as kinsmen. It is a wonderful thought.
In the
three months that I serviced the Zechariah household, Elizabeth and I had many
opportunities for conversation. She was a wonderful story teller and her words
were often witty, filled with entertainment. I so enjoyed our time
together.
She
told me how she and her husband had so desperately wanted a child, yet they
were barren. Her husband had gone to the temple to pray. She told
me how God had spoken to her husband Zechariah, telling him she would bear a
son and he would be named John. Zechariah did not believe and he came
down with an illness that had been circulating among the people that caused him
to be weary early in the day and return home to his cot to rest. God took
his voice from him for several months in punishment for his mistrust of the
Lord. Being sick and unable to command his workers, Zechariah spent a lot
of time at home with Elizabeth.
"We
spent many hours upon the cot enjoying the sanctity of our marriage vows as he
recovered", Elizabeth tells me with a twinkle in her eye.
Does
not her husband know that in God all things are possible? Surely now he
knows, as the birth of his son, John draws near. Now the child will be
raised knowing that he is very special---that he will prepare the people for
the coming of the Lord and Savior—my precious son, Jesus.
I have
felt my own babe quicken in my womb of late and my excitement grows.
Once
the babe of Zechariah was born and Elizabeth recovered, it was time for me to
leave and return to my husband. I bade them goodbye, offering them prayer
and blessings for their future as a family. I too am now starting to slow
with the burden of my child within me---being now six months into my
pregnancy. Joseph and I spend the next two months setting up our
household with our meager belongings and starting our life together.
Joseph is a good husband, though he does not touch me the way a husband would
touch a wife. He tells me we must wait until the birth of the
child. Sometimes this makes me sad, as I am growing fond of him as a wife
should for her husband. Working by his side daily I see that the Lord has
provided me a good man. Joseph is kind, gentle, and loyal. I work
hard to be a helpmate to him and I trust him as the pastor to our
household.
Time
seems to go by quickly. These days it is difficult for me to move
about. The burden of my extended abdomen makes everything a
challenge. The baby is active and healthy within me. I feel great
love for him even though we only touch each other through the skin of my
womb. I am still so amazed that this child was conceived without me
knowing a man. Sometimes I am fearful, but then the Lord wraps me in a warm
glow and I calm my spirit. It is important for me to remain quiet and do
his bidding when the time comes. I must keep many things to myself and
not be like the women in the market who have lips that are out of control at
times. God has asked me to keep all things to myself unless led by Him to
disclose them. This is easy for me as I am naturally shy and not
boisterous, as some women in my tribe.
Joseph
has returned home from work. He is a craftsman and builder. He has
heard in his travels today that a decree has gone out from Caesar Augustus that
a census is being taken and all must be enrolled each to the city of his
ancestors. Although we live in Nazareth, Joseph is of the lineage of the
house of David, which is Bethlehem. He must go there to be
enrolled. I could stay behind, but I am close to my time of deliverance
and Joseph does not want me to be without him. The other children will be
safe, as we will not be gone long. We have relatives who can watch over
them.
Joseph's
loving, kind heart warms me. We discuss that the trip may be difficult
for me in my current condition, just days away from birth. Travel may not
be safe. However, we feel led to make the trip. Sometimes one must
trust when being given a gentle push by God.
We arrive
in Bethlehem late into the evening. There is only one inn in the city and
it is full as many people have come for the census. Riding on the donkey
so many hours has my womb cramping and I am exhausted to the point that I feel
ill. Joseph is very worried about me and knows I must find some place to
rest. We head back outside the city as we’ve been told a farmer sometimes
allows visitors free boarding in the manger he built for his livestock.
The farmer is a kind man and gladly offers us rest in the straw bedding under
the cover of the manger awning and out of the cold. I am relieved.
The pain is getting worse and I fear that the babe is going to be born this
night.
Over
the next several hours labor increased and it was obvious that I would be giving
birth here in the manger. Joseph made a bed for the child using a water
trough and padding it with straw. He pulled out swaddles of cloth from
our bags in which to wrap the babe upon his birth. Joseph held my hand
and saw me through the pain. He delivered the child, as he’d helped his
first wife in labor with all of his children. I was fortunate to have him
by my side. I also realize now how fortunate I was to have served my
kinswoman, Elizabeth when she had her son John, as that experience prepared me
for this occasion. God is truly wonderful in how he knows every challenge
we will face before it even happens.
As soon
as the baby was born and Joseph had cleared the mucous from the child’s mouth,
the babe let out a cry and I was handed my son to nestle to my breast. Oh
what a heavenly moment. It was the closest to God I have ever felt.
Through tears of joy I devoured the sight of him. His skin smelled new
and was intoxicating in a way I could not expect anyone but another mother to
understand. He had a soft downy layer of hair that felt like spun
satin. His eyes, though swollen from the birth, squinted at me---dark,
glistening like diamonds. I had never known such joy as this moment in
time. Have you ever felt love so strongly that you heart literally felt
like it was expanding in your chest and surely would not be contained by the
walls of flesh surrounding it? That was how it was for me. Glory to
God on the highest. Blessed is His name.
Before
long visitors started coming into the manger. I was exhausted from my
labor and wished to sleep—but the birth of this child, though I wanted it to be
private, seemed to be announced by the angels on high---as the moon was
brighter than I’d ever seen it---a huge presence in the sky—more than one
hundred times larger than normal, almost taking up the entire horizon.
The stars brilliantly illuminated the dark night and the travelers spoke of
multiple stars falling to earth almost as if the stars were raining down upon
us.
I
thought, perhaps, in my newfound joy I was just seeing things through the magic
of motherhood. But people kept arriving in the manger---as if drawn to us
somehow by an invisible force. Again, my heart quickened with fear.
I love this babe so deeply. I know he is but mine for the period of his
childhood, but I want to protect him. I have never felt love such as this
in my lifetime. I do not want to share him. I would die for
him. Joseph reminds me I must accept what is to be. Before the rise
of the sun all type of people of all stations---from shepherds to kings---had
stopped at the manger as a resting point in their travels—not knowing what had
drawn them there until they saw my new babe and they worshipped him. Some
left us gifts, knowing we were simple folk without many possessions, far from
home. Looking back now, I realize God was trying to prepare me from the
very moment of my babe’s birth to learn to share him with “the people”---the
very people he would eventually save---save through the greatest sacrifice of
all---his life.

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