The Miracle of Christmas
Today
is Christmas Eve. What better day to
reflect on the miracle of Christ’s birth as we prepare our hearts for
celebrating tomorrow His first coming to save us all. The Christmas story. Many tales have survived through the
generations and have been passed down for decades and centuries, but can you
think of any other story that has been so widely told and preserved for two
thousand and twelve years? Or any other
story that has touched so many lives and continues to move hearts? To think of how lost our world was before He
came on that silent night so long ago.
It humbles me to think of where I would be were it not for Jesus’ birth
on Christmas Day. Think about it. Where would I be today? Where would you be? The miracle of Christmas.
The
streets of Bethlehem were silent that night.
The roads so crowded and bustling during the day with shoppers,
travelers, and vendor’s pushcarts were now void of any activity, leaving the
city in a cloak of quiet. Lamplight
shone through the upper windows of houses lining the street, movement within
casting shadows against the drawn curtains over the window holes. But on the stone-paved street below came the
solemn creak of wheels as a lone burro dutifully pulled along a small cart with
its precious cargo.
Atop
its seat sat a young woman well expecting a child. She caught her breath, and her hand flew to
her middle as it came again. Time was
wearing fast. “Joseph-”
“I
know, Mary.” The reassuring voice came
from the front of the cart where a man was leading the burro quietly along the
road. “Maybe this will be it
though.” He drew the donkey to a halt
before a door, and as the hoof beats fell silent, Mary felt the wheels of the
cart come to a stop beneath her. She
watched as Joseph stepped up to the doorstep and knocked. Peering in through the exposed window nearby
to where she sat, she saw a crowd of other travelers laughing gaily about a
large table filled with dishes of steaming food. Women bustled in and out of the kitchen off
the room, busy with the dinner preparations.
Joseph
knocked again and waited. He cast an
anxious glance back toward the cart and watched as Mary silently endured the
pain of another contraction. Exhaustion
from the long day of travel showed in her face as she met his gaze
worriedly. He forced a weary smile of
reassurance.
The
door finally opened. A burst of the
aroma of fresh-baked bread wafted through the doorway and set Joseph’s stomach
in a knot of hunger. It had been such a
long journey. The innkeeper surveyed the
fatigued man standing before him on his doorstep. “Yes?”
Joseph
spoke. “We’re looking for a place to
stay for the night. You see, we’ve been
traveling all day from Nazareth and were hoping you would have-”
The
man shook his head. “Sorry, no room left
tonight. You’re not the only one here in
town that’s come up to be registered for the census, and I’ve got a full inn
this evening,” he explained, motioning over his shoulder to behind him where
sounds of laughter, conversation, and merriment came from.
Desperation
struck. “But, sir, please, can’t you see
my wife’s expecting?” Joseph pleaded, indicating to the young woman seated in
the cart nearby. He evened his voice
again and met the man’s gaze steadily. “Please. Nowhere else has any vacancies, but we need
a room. My wife’s about to have the
baby.”
The
innkeeper turned his gaze from the desperate man before him to the young woman
in the cart and then back to Joseph. He
nodded. “All right,” he consented. “I don’t have a room to offer, but follow me.” The couple exchanged a glance of relief as
the man stepped out into the street and closed the door behind him. Then as he started down the road, Joseph took
hold of the burro’s rope again and led him forward to follow.
They
made their way around the corner of the inn and to the back of the building
where a little wooden hut stood. The
innkeeper stopped before the stable, and Joseph brought the donkey to a
halt. “It isn’t much I know,” the man
confessed. “But you’re welcome to make
use of it.”
Joseph
cast a glance up at Mary. The man was
right; it wasn’t much at all, but it was a place to stay at least, though it
was a common stable. Mary gave a slight
nod, and Joseph turned back to the innkeeper.
“Thank you. This will be just
fine,” he assured him.
Their
gracious host gave a nod. “Well, good
night to you, and best wishes,” he said kindly.
He handed Joseph the tin lantern he had carried, and then turning back
toward the inn, disappeared into the darkness.
Joseph
watched until he was gone from sight and then drawing a deep breath, forced the
weary muscles in his body back into motion.
He made his way to the side of the cart, and reached up, helping Mary
down as gently as possible.
She
caught her breath again as she landed heavily.
“Mary,
are you all right?”
She
nodded. “I’m fine,” she assured him, more
confidently than she was. With Joseph’s
help, she slowly entered the outbuilding and with some effort, lowered to the
bed of fresh hay Joseph arranged for her on the floor away from the penned livestock. She closed her eyes and leaned back on a hay
bale, willing herself strength as a fresh contraction came with a new intensity
than those before it.
“I’ll
be right back,” she heard Joseph whisper.
“I’m going to unload the cart and bring the burro in.” She gave a weak nod and heard his footsteps grow
softer as he stepped outside the stable.
A
few minutes later, the footsteps returned, and Mary opened her eyes to see through
the shadows, Joseph enter. His arms were
heavy-laden with supplies from the cart, particularly those he knew they would
need in the hours of labor ahead. Depositing
them in a dark corner nearby, he disappeared again and then entered leading the
donkey. Mary watched as he secured the
animal in an empty stall. Then he came
and took a seat beside her on the hay where the rays of the lantern drew a
circle of light from where it stood on the bale at Mary’s head. He reached up and with a sigh of exhaustion,
slid the head covering from his dark hair, making comfortable for the long
evening of anxious waiting.
The
hours of the night slowly wore on. Mary
gritted her teeth and squeezed Joseph’s hand as another wave of pain came. When would the baby come? How much longer? The soft sounds of the livestock grazing in
their stalls reached her ears. The
lulling of the oxen, the heavy snort of the horse, the restless shifting of
their burro. She felt Joseph’s
carpenter-rough touch against her forehead, tenderly brushing aside the damp
tendrils of her hair sticking fast with the beads of sweat. She opened her eyes to see him bending over
her anxiously. “Joseph, I’m afraid,” she
confessed in a weak whisper. “I don’t
know how to do this.”
“You’ll
be fine, Mary,” he assured her gently.
He forced an encouraging smile.
“You’ll make a wonderful mother.”
But fear plagued even his thoughts. He had helped horses and sheep deliver their
young in his time, but this was different.
This was Mary and… and the Son of God. Was even he ready for this?
All of their
careful preparations for this moment, their plans for a peaceful birth at home,
were of no use in that unexpected timing.
Even the beautiful cradle he had lovingly built for his new son would
stand unoccupied that night in the upper room of their home in Nazareth. But the Lord’s timing was best, though he
couldn’t understand His reasons, he reminded himself as he held Mary’s hand.
It
was well into the night when the sleepy streets of Bethlehem were awoken with
sounds once again. Eager footsteps ran
along the road accompanied by the occasional thump of a staff and the bleating
of a few wandering sheep that had followed from the flock left behind. They drew to a stop as the shepherds looked
up searchingly to the night sky overhead.
“Where is it?” one asked. “I
can’t see it.”
Another
drew close to the wall of a building lining the street. He pressed his back against it, straining to
see more of the sky that peeked around the corner of the two-story inn. He stepped out from underneath the archway
over the road. “There it is,” he
exclaimed. “I see it again. This way.”
He pointed up to where a brilliant star hung in the night sky, its rays
shining down and illuminating the dark street with its light brighter than that
of any full moon. The shepherds were off
again in their joyful hunt. They rounded
the corner of the inn and then drew to a stop as ahead stood a dark
stable. Inside shone a bright dot of
beaming lamplight coming from a lantern, and in its light moved the silhouette
of a man. But above, the bright star
rested in the sky and flooded the thatched roof of the meager housing in the
glory of its heavenly white light.
Slowly
the shepherds made their way forward and silently entered the stable,
awe-struck and speechless in wonder. The
donkey bayed a greeting from his stall. At
their appearance, Joseph straightened from where he bent over a manger, and
Mary turned her gaze to them with a tired but welcoming smile. The shepherds looked to Joseph again, and
with a smile, he nodded his permission. The
shepherds felt their throats go dry; no explanation for their entrance would’ve
been possible, but no words were needed.
The visitors had miraculously been guided to the little stable, but
stranger things had happened within the past months. For as the angel Gabriel had reminded Mary,
nothing is impossible with God.
As Joseph
stepped back and returned to Mary’s side, the shepherds stepped forward to
crowd around the manger the young father had stood protectively over. Inside laid a sleeping newborn baby boy
swaddled in a homespun blanket, his exposed face still ruddy from birth. He was a baby… but he was more. He was perfect, flawless, and beautiful, and
as they peered down at him sleeping, it as though all of the glory of the Lord
that had shone round them in the fields at the angels’ appearance was
manifested there in the form of the babe.
“Do not be afraid. I bring you
good news of great joy that will be for all people,” the angel had said. “Today in the town of David a Savior has been
borne to you; he is Christ the Lord.” A
Savior had been born. Jesus the Lamb of
God, the Christ child, the perfect Gift to all men. The Messiah had come.*
“Glory to God in
the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
Luke 2:14
~We’ve all
heard of the phrase “pulling on her/ his heartstrings,” but heart-chords? I was struggling to decide what to name my
blog. I wanted it to be a name that was
both creative and meaningful. As I
pondered, my gaze fell upon my acoustic guitar where it stands in my bedroom,
and the Lord reminded me that our hearts- our lives- are instruments. They are constantly in song, but what melody
our heart plays is each of our own decisions.
They can play a melody for praise or for entertainment. A musician selects his songs according to his
audience. So do we. Whether our audience is the world or the
Lord, our song will be different. This
blog is designed to first, increase my awareness in finding God and His
guidance in my every day and second, to share the music lessons He teaches me
in tuning my heart to learn the chords of praise He longs to play on my
heart-instrument. Music is a powerful
tool. Use it for His glory. “He
put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in
the Lord.” Psalm 40:3
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