He wakes up, turns over and looks at me.
I pretend to still be sleeping,
Although the child within me is fully awake.
I feel the warmth of his gaze,
and I know that he is still tormented,
Oh Joseph.
I didn't start this,
You know that.
This is not the life I would have chosen.
Here we are,
On the road to Bethlehem,
Two travelers--nearly three.
One more day, my husband,
And we will be there.
I pray our child will wait.
Joseph, please know
I didn't ask for this.
But having been given the opportunity--
How could I decline it?
It is written, Joseph, remember?
"A virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
And shall call his name Emmanuel
God with us."
I want you to understand that I'm thankful.
I know that you are a just and good man,
And I realize that you could have put me away
Or worse.
But you chose to bear this burden with me,
And I respect and admire you for that.
But it's so hard.
Joseph, I barely know you.
You are my husband,
But you are not the father of my child.
Can you accept him as your Son?
Will you love him as a father should?
Will you teach him what a man must know?
And Joseph, can you accept me?
Will you see me as your wife,
Though not in the way you might have wished?
Oh well.
I must open my eyes and start the day.
I put on a smile and meet your eyes.
"Good morning Husband.
Yes, it's almost over.
One more day to Bethlehem."
As we walk down our road, from time to time we notice pebbles along our way. Sometimes they're nothing more than pretty little stones, but other times they are there to remind us of battles we have fought, demons we have conquered, or even times that we've lost and learned valuable lessons in the losing. We can choose to leave the pebbles where they are and forget, or we can pick up the pebbles and turn them into markers--reminders of our journey and the lessons learned.
Showing posts with label Road to Bethlehem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Road to Bethlehem. Show all posts
Sunday, September 1, 2013
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