Treasure

In the quiet of a Nazareth night, while her family slumbered around her, Mary lay awake, pondering what the angel had told her. She turned the words over and over in her mind, in no doubt of their meaning yet filled with wonder and even fear, at what was in store for her life. The Son of the Most High. Of all the mysteries the angel portended, this was the treasure she held closest to her heart. The Messiah, her child. She hugged her knees and smiled in the dark.

She cherished the secret alone until her cousin, Elizabeth, felt her own unborn child leap in her womb at the sound of Mary’s voice. Filled with God’s Spirit, Elizabeth spoke forth the truth of the holy one to be born of the pure young woman before her. Mary’s inner meditations became a song magnifying the Mighty One who had done great things for her.

On the night she gave birth in Bethlehem, a humble band of shepherds came to the stable to see the child. Their faces shone from witnessing the glory of heaven proclaim who this child was and what he had come to do. When Mary heard their story she treasured up all that they said, holding it close within herself.

As he grew, she stored up in her heart other events in the life of her unique son, knowing intuitively there was significance in each one. She was a simple country woman, yet she had been taught about the Messiah, a savior of his people, never imagining how his coming would impact her personally. Simeon’s words the day her child was presented at the temple and given the name of Jesus, and the visit of the Magi from the east, bearing treasure for a king; no detail of these occurrences escaped her keen observation. She absorbed them into her soul where they grew more precious with each remembrance.

Every Advent season brings us an opportunity to treasure up all these things and ponder them in our heart, just as Mary did. The scriptural narration of the coming of Christ is a beautiful, mysterious story, full of details and revelations never to be fully fathomed. Each facet sheds a glorious light on the treasure at the center, Emmanuel, God with us.

At a time of year when there are numerous distractions, it can be difficult to find quiet moments for our mind and heart to dwell on the Incarnation, to soak in the wonder of mighty God becoming a mere infant, to remember the purpose which compelled Him. But it is a worthy quest to seek after the riches found in all the Christ child brought to us at His coming. Like Mary, ponder them in your heart and the treasure who is Christ will flood it with His love.

“I want them to have complete confidence that they understand God’s mysterious plan, which is Christ Himself. In Him lie hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”
~ Col. 2:2-3 New Living Translation ~

Advent – N is for Newborn

On this final day of the Advent season, we are eager to celebrate the birth of Jesus tomorrow on Christmas Day. May His love be made new in your hearts and lives as you worship the newborn King.

The baby rested on her breast, dark hair still damp with birth fluids, his body curled as in the womb. She inspected each limb as best she could in the wavering lamp light, cupping his head in her palm to gaze into his face. He bleated like a little lamb at being held away from her. He would need to be washed and wrapped, but for now she just held him close. His breath came light and quick on her skin while his tiny mouth made sucking motions. She absorbed his warmth, the scent of him, knowing how brief these moments would be when he was just her newborn baby. He was meant for all mankind, but not yet.

Though centuries separate us, I feel a connection to Mary, Jesus’ mother, because I too, vividly recall the first moments with my newborn baby. The sweet, warm weight of her small body so recently birthed from mine sparked a new kind of fierce, primitive love I had not experienced before. I felt that this was what I was made for. But then, I did not know the destiny of my newborn as Mary did.

I wonder, did she look into her baby’s eyes and see God there? When his fingers curled tightly around hers, did she think of how he created the world? Did his infant cry echo the sound of heaven in her ears? Could she even begin to grasp the paradox of the Ancient of Days being manifest as the child in her arms?

The Lord God fashioned a miraculous plan to rescue His people, using a simple peasant girl and a newborn baby to bring it about. Mary’s gentle acquiescent faith made for a perfect nursery for the Son of the Most High.

But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons. (Gal. 4:4 NIV)

After this baby boy grew up to be a man He used the picture of procreation, which He had conceived of and crafted before time began, to illustrate man’s need to be born again of the Spirit. “Men can only produce human life,” Jesus told Nicodemus, “but the Holy Spirit gives new life from heaven; so don’t be surprised at my statement that you must be born again!” (John 3:6, 7 TLB)

When a newborn draws its first breath, it is beginning life on this earth. When spiritual birth occurs, the spirit within us recognizes Jesus Christ as God in human flesh and invites His Spirit to give us new life, causing us to be “born again”. We are newborns, no matter what age we are when our spirits break forth from the womb of darkness into the light of Christ’s love and grace. He has made us “like newborn babies, craving pure spiritual milk so we will grow into a full experience of salvation.” (1 Peter 2:2 NLT)

The very way Jesus entered into time as a newborn baby is a symbol of how we may enter His kingdom. Often our spiritual birth is a painful, exhausting process, but what joy erupts when we are first held in our Father’s arms!

Hark! The herald angels sing.
Glory to the newborn King!”

Advent Week 3 ~ V for Vessel

Entering week 3 using the word “Advent” as an acrostic for a series of devotionals, my prayer for each reader is for God to fashion you as well, into a willing vessel for His glory.

The seaside park blossoms with booths and tents showcasing the richly diverse talents of artisans and craftspeople. My favourites are the potter’s works; earthenware, stoneware, ceramics and porcelain made for beauty as well as functionality. I like to carefully handle the pieces that interest me, feeling where the potter pressed his thumb into the wet clay on a mug handle, or used her hands to narrow the neck of a vase formed on a potter’s wheel. Simply put, they make vessels, hollow containers for holding something but it is obvious that their creations are so much more.

In the nativity story, Mary, the mother of Jesus, became a human vessel to receive the Spirit of God. In His infinite, mysterious wisdom God chose this poor peasant girl to carry His beloved Son in her womb. She asked the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34 NIV) It is a question pondered by many since. The angel told her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (Luke 1:35)

What qualities did God look for in a human vessel for His Son? Did He lovingly hold His creation, Mary, in His hands, turning her this way and that, looking into her soul for those certain attributes only He knew would suit His purpose? What set her apart from all other young women of her time who could have borne the Son of God? I cannot fathom the answer to these questions but I can rest in the certainty that He chose the perfect vessel.

God chose a vessel, first of all, who was pure. In order for His Son to be born a sinless man, He could not be conceived in sin, but would be born of a virgin. As Isaiah prophesied centuries before, “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God with us.” (Isa. 7:14b)

Mary was highly favored by God, according to the angel, so the purity He required in the mother of His holy Son was not only physical but spiritual. In her simple faith Mary exhibited qualities which pleased God, such as trust, faithfulness, humility and obedience. All these traits are evident in the telling of Mary’s story in the first chapter of Luke. Most noticeable is her unerring faith and willingness to believe that what the Lord had said to her would be accomplished. “ ‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May it be to me as you have said.’” (Luke 1:38)

Not only was she a willing vessel to carry the Son of God, she also would have realized that judgement and condemnation would come with her role. Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph but they were not yet man and wife, so her pregnancy would bring with it shame and reproach from those who knew her. No one would believe in her purity, except Joseph, who had it revealed to him by an angel of the Lord. She graciously accepted the damage to her reputation for the singular privilege of bearing God’s Son.

A vessel is open at the top to receive the contents intended for it. I picture Mary’s spiritual posture as open, receptive to whatever her Lord would pour into her willing heart. I have much to learn from the mother of my Savior by her servant attitude and humility. The treasure of God’s Spirit is contained in this body of mine, this earthen vessel, so that the transcendent character of this power will be clearly seen as coming from God and not from me. (2 Cor. 4:7) My supreme privilege is to be poured out for Him.

Advent Week 2 – D is for Dwell

This is the second in a series of devotionals using the word “Advent” as an acrostic for each week celebrated. My prayer for you, dear reader, is that it would help draw you closer to the heart of the One whose birth we celebrate this blessed Christmas season. 

The night is cold, the stars bright in the sky as I leave the city behind to make my way home. The inhospitable darkness beyond the car headlights makes me eager to get there. When I round the corner I see the lights of my house twinkling golden through the trees. Breathing slows, shoulders relax as I close the door behind me and step into the warmth. This is more than just a house; it is my dwelling, the place where my life is lived in the everyday of waking and sleeping, dreams and decisions, loving and learning.

That night long ago, when Mary and Joseph were far from their home, God came to earth to live. He wanted so much to be with us, to dwell with us, that He came as a baby, in the same way we did. The mystery of the incarnation, God dwelling in a human body, broke into history when eternity invaded time. With the frail cry of a newly birthed baby, hope came to dwell.

There is something about the word dwell that evokes so much more than just habitation. When someone dwells somewhere they live fully in that place, to such an extent it becomes part of who they are. To dwell somewhere involves making it a home, putting a personal stamp on it, investing emotional energy into settling there.

God demonstrated His desire to identify with His creatures when He sent His Son to dwell with us. He could have spoken to us through angels or from the clouds of heaven, but He chose instead to live as one of us. Jesus knew what it meant to have intimate conversation with friends over a meal, to rest His tired body in a bed at night, to see His mother waiting to welcome Him.

“The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14 NIV)

Those many long years ago He came to dwell as a man. Now He can be invited to dwell again as God’s Spirit within our hearts. Jesus said, “Anyone who loves Me will obey My teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” (John 14:23) To think that my small human heart is “a dwelling in which God lives by His Spirit.” (Eph. 2:22)

Anyone’s heart can be a dwelling for Him. He came first to earth as a baby in a borrowed manger bed; now He wants to come as a permanent dweller in your heart. The rooms don’t have to be spotless or the meals perfect. Just open the door in a warm welcome and He will move in.

“Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and He will dwell with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God.” ~ (Rev. 21:3)

Enlightenment

On this fourth Advent Sunday, using the word “Advent” as an acrostic, the letter is E for “Enlightenment”.

 

When I was tucked into bed as a child, I insisted my bedroom door be left open a precise amount; not too much or the hall light kept me awake, but just enough for a little comforting glow to shine in. Like most children, I was a bit afraid of the dark. Things which were familiar in the light became strange in the dark.

As a biblical metaphor for sin, darkness accurately represents aspects of a life lived outside of relationship with God. Darkness makes it difficult to find direction. It is a place of confusion where wrong seems right and up is down. Things are hidden in darkness; wrong and evil things. Death, the final darkness, severs every cherished bond.

How very like God to preface our coming salvation with a picture of light breaking into spiritual darkness. “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.” (Isa. 9:2 NIV) This light would not just disperse the darkness; it would come in the form of a Person. When Isaiah foretold this light, he continued with a description of the long hoped for Messiah coming as a child born unto us, a son given. (Isa. 9:6) A Light was destined to break into the dark lives of sinful men, and it would appear as God in human flesh.

Not only was the promised Messiah portended as a light, His birth was pinpointed by a light. Wise men from far away saw an unusual star in the eastern night sky, which they understood to be a sign of a coming Jewish king. Informed by prophecy, they traveled to Bethlehem, where the light of this rare star shone over the place where the child was. “When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.” (Matt. 2:10) Why? Because they understood the significance of the light and who it shone upon.

When the Light arrived as a human child, grew and became a man, He described Himself using the same figure of speech. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12) Such a grand claim can be irrefutably verified when our life is given over to Christ, for then we are delivered from the darkness of sin, given guidance to walk in this world well, and pointed to a new purpose. The light which came into the world now can shine from within us. “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made His light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” (2 Cor. 4:6)

Light of lights! All gloom dispelling,
Thou didst come to make thy dwelling
Here within our world of sight.
Lord, in pity and in power,
Thou didst in our darkest hour
Rend the clouds and show thy light.
~ St. Thomas Aquinas ~

© Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Vessel

In this third week of devotionals using the word Advent as an acrostic, the letter is V, for “vessel”.

 

 

 

The seaside park blossoms with booths and tents showcasing the richly diverse talents of artisans and craftspeople. My favorites are the potter’s works; earthenware, stoneware, ceramics and porcelain made for beauty as well as functionality. I like to carefully handle the pieces that interest me, feeling where the potter pressed his thumb into the wet clay on a mug handle, or used her hands to narrow the neck of a vase formed on a potter’s wheel. Simply put, they make vessels, hollow containers for holding something, but it is obvious that their creations are so much more.

In the nativity story, Mary, the mother of Jesus, became a human vessel to receive the Spirit of God. In His infinite, mysterious wisdom God chose this poor peasant girl to carry His beloved Son in her womb. She asked the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34 NIV) It is a question pondered by many since. The angel told her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (Luke 1:35)

What qualities did God look for in a human vessel for His Son? Did He lovingly hold His creation, Mary, in His hands, turning her this way and that, looking into her soul for those certain attributes only He knew would suit His purpose? What set her apart from all other young women of her time who could have borne the Son of God? I cannot fathom the answer to these questions but I can rest in the certainty that He chose the perfect vessel.

God chose a vessel, first of all, who was pure. In order for His Son to be born a sinless man, He could not be conceived in sin, but would be born of a virgin. As Isaiah prophesied centuries before, “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God with us.” (Isa. 7:14b)

Mary was highly favored by God, according to the angel, so the purity He required in the mother of His holy Son was not only physical but spiritual. In her simple faith Mary exhibited qualities which pleased God, such as trust, faithfulness, humility and obedience. All these traits are evident in the telling of Mary’s story in the first chapter of Luke. Most noticeable is her unerring faith and willingness to believe that what the Lord had said to her would be accomplished. “ ‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May it be to me as you have said.’” (Luke 1:38)

Not only was she a willing vessel to carry the Son of God, she also would have realized that judgement and condemnation would come with her role. Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph but they were not yet man and wife, so her pregnancy would bring with it shame and reproach from those who knew her. No one would believe in her purity, except Joseph, who had it revealed to him by an angel of the Lord. She graciously accepted the damage to her reputation for the singular privilege of bearing God’s Son.

A vessel is open at the top to receive the contents intended for it. I picture Mary’s spiritual posture as open, receptive to whatever her Lord would pour in to her willing heart. I have much to learn from the mother of my Savior by her servant attitude and humility. The treasure of God’s Spirit is contained in this body of mine, this earthen vessel, so that the transcendent character of this power will be clearly seen as coming from God and not from me. (2 Cor. 4:7) My supreme privilege is to be poured out for Him.

© Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Dwell

 

I am using the word “Advent” as an acrostic for a series of posts for each week the season is celebrated. This second week the letter is D.

 

The night is cold, the stars bright in the sky as I leave the city behind to make my way home. The inhospitable darkness beyond the car headlights makes me eager to get there. When I round the corner I see the lights of my house twinkling golden through the trees. Breathing slows, shoulders relax as I close the door behind me and step into the warmth. This is more than just a house; it is my dwelling, the place where my life is lived in the everyday of waking and sleeping, dreams and decisions, loving and learning.

That night long ago, when Mary and Joseph were far from their home, God came to earth to live. He wanted so much to be with us, to dwell with us, that He came as a baby, in the same way we did. The mystery of the incarnation, God dwelling in a human body, broke into history when eternity invaded time. With the frail cry of a newly birthed baby, hope came to dwell.

There is something about the word dwell that evokes so much more than just habitation. When someone dwells somewhere they live fully in that place, to such an extent it becomes part of who they are. To dwell somewhere involves making it a home, putting a personal stamp on it, investing emotional energy into settling there.

God demonstrated His desire to identify with His creatures when He sent His Son to dwell with us. He could have spoken to us through angels or from the clouds of heaven, but He chose instead to live as one of us. Jesus knew what it meant to have intimate conversation with friends over a meal, to rest His tired body in a bed at night, to see His mother waiting to welcome Him.

“The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14 NIV)

Those many long years ago He came to dwell as a man. Now He can be invited to dwell again as God’s Spirit within our hearts. Jesus said, “Anyone who loves Me will obey My teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” (John 14:23) To think that my small human heart is “a dwelling in which God lives by His Spirit.” (Eph. 2:22)

Anyone’s heart can be a dwelling for Him. He came first to earth as a baby in a borrowed manger bed; now He wants to come as a permanent dweller in your heart. The rooms don’t have to be spotless or the meals perfect. Just open the door in a warm welcome and He will move in.

Pleased as man with men to dwell
Jesus our Emmanuel.
Hark! The herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King!”

© Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Anticipation

 

The Advent season begins today, as does my gift to you, dear readers, using the word “Advent” as an acrostic for a series of posts for each week it is celebrated. Enjoy this blessed season!

 

 

Remember waiting by the window, looking for that special someone to come up the walk? Recall the wide-eyed wonder of a child waiting for daddy to come home? The expectancy of a hope to be fulfilled carries with it a sweet impatience, a tingling of nerves and slowing of time which hold their own pleasure.

There is an expectancy of hope resonating throughout time. Can you hear it? A whisper, a murmur, a hum of anticipation beginning in a garden, rippling in a flood, rustling across a desert, then gaining volume in the voices of prophets.

Someone is coming!

Someone promised by God, a Messiah, anointed for a specific purpose, to preach good news to the poor, proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. (Luke 4:18-19 NIV)

Waiting for the Messiah was a centuries-long occupation for the Israelites. Their anticipation of who he would be and what he would do for them was grounded in the temporal. The New Testament Israelites particularly looked for his coming with desperate expectation, as they groaned under oppressive Roman rule.

So even with well-known prophecies of a virgin giving birth to Emmanuel, God with us, in the nondescript town of Bethlehem, they still looked for a Messiah who would arrive on the scene with great fanfare, ready to throw off the yoke of Roman domination.

If only their horizons could have stretched to what He really came to do — enrich the spiritually bankrupt, free those locked into sin, open the eyes of hearts blinded by lies; and bring liberation to souls tied up in guilty knots. His is a kingdom of the spirit, and in coming to earth for a time as a man, He taught us to anticipate the much vaster reality of eternity in heaven with Him.

Quite often what we anticipate with eagerness ends up disappointing, leaving us with unmet expectations. But with the arrival of Jesus Christ the Messiah, realization far outdistances expectation. There have been many men who have led oppressed countries to freedom, or brought enlightenment to their people trapped in ignorance, but only One in history who could liberate souls.

Could any finite human mind anticipate God coming to earth? — the great I AM growing inside a virgin‘s womb? — the Creator of the universe wrapped in the flesh of a helpless infant? The concept is beyond our scope to understand, but not beyond God’s ability.

Advent is a season of anticipation, looking forward to celebrating the wonder of God arriving on earth, a gift for all mankind. It is also a time to contemplate what you are anticipating spiritually in your growth towards the Messiah. I encourage you to share some of your contemplations with me.

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him, but God has revealed it to us by His Spirit.” – 1 Corinthians 2:9-10

Missing the Messiah

Mary and Joseph recognized the exceptional child they were given to raise because His identity was revealed to them by angels.

Elizabeth and her unborn son recognized Him when His pregnant mother spoke words of greeting.

Shepherds recognized Him by a glorious announcement made by a host of heavenly angels appearing in their lowly fields.

Magi from afar recognized His star in the east, guiding their way to His birthplace in Bethlehem, as the prophecy foretold.

At Jerusalem’s temple Simeon and Anna recognized Him as a baby distinct from many brought for consecration, through revelation by the Holy Spirit.

So why do so many not recognize Him today, not even on the holiday which celebrates His birth? God’s greatest gift to all people gets lost in obscurity amidst the glitter and tinsel now cluttering up Christmas. Not only do people fail to recognize Christ for who He is; Emmanuel, God with us, they fail to recognize His very existence.

This is not just a contemporary failure. Missing the Messiah began long before His birth and continued during His earthly life. Not long before His death Jesus wept over Jerusalem because He knew the destruction it would soon suffer. “Your enemies will smash you into rubble and not leave one stone standing on another, and they will cut your children down too because you did not recognize the day when God’s Anointed One visited you.” (Luke 19:44 The Voice)

Even though moments earlier a whole crowd of followers spread their cloaks on the road before Jesus and shouted praises for the miracles they had seen, they did not truly recognize it was God riding on a colt in their midst. Because of their rejection of Him, their eyes were blinded. Because they would not see Him as its source, they could not receive the peace He offered.

I confess, I’ve not recognized the Messiah more often than I care to admit. I miss Him when the world lures me aside with its siren call. I miss Him when I recognize only myself and my own desires. And I miss Him when I neglect precious time alone to commune with Him, not recognizing how much He wants to speak to me.

So this Christmas my desirous prayer is that I would more fully recognize the wonder of God’s sojourn to this humble earth. I will never comprehend what it took for Almighty God to become a man, but I will forever praise Him that He did. It was a supreme act of love, a visitation which changed the course of history and thus, the direction of my own life. He can change the direction of many lives, if only He is recognized for who is, King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

© Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Joseph’s Journey

( I hope you enjoy this devotional posted last Christmas. Its purpose is to evoke the very first Christmas night, when our Savior came to dwell with us.)

After three days of travel, Joseph is weary and footsore. His pains are minor compared to those of his wife, Mary, riding the donkey behind him. She clings to the donkey’s mane with one hand while holding her swollen stomach with the other. She gives a low moan, prompting him to pick up their pace along the rocky road approaching Bethlehem. If it weren’t for the enforced census decreed by the Roman emperor, Mary would be at home with her mother as she prepares to give birth, instead of  in a strange, crowded town. Nothing about this child is normal, he muses, and now it seems it would not even be born at home.

As he plods through the dusty twilight Joseph relives the night of the dream. He had fallen into a troubled sleep, heartsick over having to break his betrothal to the young woman he loved, because she was with child. Only it wasn’t his child. In the dream a clear white light emanated from a heavenly figure, who called him by name and told him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife, because the child she carried was from the Holy Spirit; a son to be named Jesus, who would save his people from their sins.

In spite of the disapproval of many, Joseph did what the angel of the Lord commanded and took Mary home. She slept in a small alcove in his house, and he did not go to her. Sometimes she would gently take his hand and hold it to where the child moved within her. They knew of each other’s angel visitations, but spoke rarely of the event to come. It was too awesome to fully comprehend.

Now the time has arrived for the baby to be born, and Joseph does what he can to prepare. The innkeeper has no room, but he kindly gives them a small oil lamp and a hastily swept corner of his stable for shelter. Amidst the dust, stench, and noise Joseph helps Mary off the donkey to slump against a grimy wall. By the time he returns with a bucket of water, her pains have increased. He is a most unlikely midwife, but he alone is here to help her. He wipes her face and grips her hand, thoughts flashing through his mind like lightning.

“Almighty Yahweh, if this is how you choose to bring Messiah to us, I do not understand! Shouldn’t there be a golden cradle, a silken blanket, a royal proclamation? Instead, he is brought forth in pain, in a dirty cattle stall, with barely enough thin linen to wrap around him, and no one to hail him.” Mary cries out again. He feels so helpless.   

“Forgive me, Yahweh, for questioning you. Your ways are higher than my ways, and your thoughts higher than mine. Help me bring this blessed child into the world and I will do all in my power to care for him as my own.”

Then he is too busy to hear his own thoughts. From Mary’s body into his waiting hands comes the Messiah, no differently than any other child. His tiny fists flail, his plaintive cries echo in the stable. Joseph wipes the shivering infant, then places him on his mother’s breast to nurse for the first time. Mary smiles weakly, examining each minute limb to see all is perfect. Joseph sits back on his heels, exhaling a weary sigh. A cow lows close by, the oil lamp flickers as a cold draft whispers across the dirt floor. All is as it was before this child entered the world, yet Joseph knows nothing will ever be the same. Unbidden to his mind come the words of ancient scripture, “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God with us.” He is finally here.