Mary stretched against a bale of straw, baby Jesus nestled close where she could run her fingers across His skin. The words the angel had spoken months before, stirred deep in her heart. Was this really the Child of God? Had He really come to live amongst His people? The thought was overwhelming and she couldn’t begin to comprehend its greatness. Leaning over she lifted the infant into her arms and caressed the soft fluff on His head. Holding him close, she began to pray.

“Is this really you God? Have you clothed yourself in skin and come to dwell amongst us; to walk upon this tarnished land? I gaze into your newborn eyes and wonder at the mystery and glory of Emmanuel, God with us. The Creator of the Universe, cradled against my chest.

Already you have healed my heart. The shame of my pregnancy, the mocking voices and taunting faces have faded like shadows before the rising sun. Is this a foretaste of what you bring the world? A love so deep, compassion so great, strength that will overcome all fears? 

...

Asher ran quickly through Bethlehem, not even stopping when the sharp stone pierced through the tender flesh on the bottom of his foot.  Nothing would distract him, not even the pain that seared up his leg whenever his heel hit the ground.

He turned off the main road into an alley and soon threw open the wooden door to his family’s home.

“Mother!”

“Slow down, my son.  You will hurt yourself.”

She was awkwardly pouring water from the wooden bucket, into the pot above the fire. Asher swiftly moved to help her before the water spilled onto the flames below. 

“Mother!  You’ve got to come back with me.  Let’s hurry!  It’s incredible!”

He handed the bucket back to her as she thanked him.  

“Asher, sit in that chair and calm down.” 

Her tone was firm and he obeyed, feeling like a five year old again, instead of the stout, rugged fourteen year old he had become.

“Tell me what you are talking about.”

The king we’ve waited for!  I know it’s him!”

...

Shabby shepherds hugged quavering lambs to pounding chests -clutched tangled wool with trembling fingers.  Moments ago the black sky had hung silent.  Now shepherds lay strewn across the hard ground where they fell, shielding unaccustomed eyes from blazing brightness. 

Shimi spread the fingers of his grimy hands just enough to peek through them, afraid of what he would see, but also of what he might miss.  Winter shepherding was a new experience in this, his twelfth year.  Still, the frightful angelic appearance seemed to amaze even well seasoned, ordinarily unflappable shepherds. 

The angel was speaking now.  “Do not be afraid.”  Easy for him to say!  “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.”  Why did they choose us?  “Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ, the Lord.  This will be a sign to you:  You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”*  A feedbox?  Surely the Savior deserves a bed. 

The lone celestial being...

No streetlamps illuminated the path. No iron protected his hooves. The donkey moved along sluggishly, occasionally stumbling from his heavy burden. The road was barren and rough.

Mary, being great with child, was suffering. Joseph was exhausted, but he pushed on. His arms ached from urging the beast forward, the skin of his palms raw from pulling on the rope. Dust billowed around them, filled their nostrils, parched their throats.

“Can we not rest, husband?" asked Mary.

"We must reach Bethlehem tonight," he replied. "Here, take another sip from the wineskin. It will refresh you."

"Nay, Joseph, the wine is almost gone and you need it more than I, walking these many miles."

"Please, Mary, drink."

Mary swallowed the tepid brew, arched her back, and braced herself for the rest of the journey. Surely, it could not be much farther. Hours ago, they had fallen behind the others. As they pressed onward, the moon appeared, a perfect orb in the gathering dusk. Joseph worried that...

Everything was ready. The house wasn’t big but still, it was well built, with a nice little garden graced by a tamarind tree.

I took special care with the furniture, for I am a carpenter--a good one at that. But I spent the most time on the cradle, carefully sawing, sanding, and shaping it. It was the best thing I had ever done--not good enough for a king, much less for the Son of God, but as good as I was capable of making it.

My close friends and family--those who understood, however imperfectly, that this Child was special to us even though the circumstances of His coming were unusual--were ready for the big celebration. The midwife was scheduled. Mary laughed at me for thinking I could schedule such an event. Nevertheless, Mary would have the best care I could give her. Jesus, Child of my heart, if not of my loins, would be born in as much comfort as I could arrange.

Then the unthinkable happened. Word came that Caesar had ordered a census. My plans suddenly and irrevocably dissolved into...

 

 

 

The City of Jesus, A Light on a hill; Forever now shining, Impeccable zeal.

A Light I once shadowed The world all around A Light brightly shining Now beckoning found.

I saw a slight glimmer, But soon turned away. “I see in the darkness” My pride then would say.

But then the day soon came When I could not see, This Light on a hilltop, This Savior for me.

So scared and so frightened, And begging to see; The Light on the hilltop Was sent just for me.

The more that I cried out, The brighter it grew; It called me by my name ‘Twas then that I knew.

The City of Jesus...

Nathaniel gripped his staff, while he steadied his heavy shoulder bags with his free hand. His steep climb up the hillside ended at the edge of a field.

When he approached the sheep camp, he was greeted by a familiar shout.

“Ho, Nathaniel, what good things do you tempt us with this evening?”

Nathaniel spied Eliezer who overlooked the tending of the flocks. He sat beside the wizened shepherd. “Oh, nothing special, Uncle,” he grinned. He lowered the food bags to his lap and opened them.

The other shepherds gathered around the young man who visited often and brought baked goods from Eliezer’s sister.

“What news from the city?” asked Daniel, always eager to hear anything from the streets of Jerusalem.

“Much stirring over the taxation edict,” answered Nathaniel. “The city bulges with travelers, while the roads groan beneath them.” He leaned back and let the shepherds rummage for crumbs. His mother’s cakes never lasted long among these lowly men who encamped around the hills...

"Go away! Can't you read?" I knew whoever was outside couldn't hear my ranting, but it made me feel better. I opened the door a crack. "What do you want?"

"We need a room."

"Can't you read? It says 'No vacancies.'" Now, that wasn't exactly the whole truth, I'll admit. I did have a few rooms open, but they were reserved for the elite.

"I'm sorry sir, but we've been all over town, and we thought maybe.... You see, my fiancé is pregnant, and...."

"Pregnant? And you're not married? I'm sorry, but I wouldn't house the likes of you even if I could."

"Please."

As I was shutting the door in the man's face, I saw something in his eyes. I'm not quite sure what it was, but I couldn't ignore it. "Look. I do have a stable out back here. It's not much, but...."

"We'll take it. How much?"

"It's on me," I said, not quite sure what had overcome me.

"Who was that?" my wife asked, as I climbed back into bed.

"Some man with his fiancé. She was very pregnant. I let them use the stable."

...

On the TV, I see people that are called stars I read of their lives, full of parties and bars Yet God sent a star on that Bethlehem night And its light showed us Truth and His infinite light

In the paper I read about violence and war I read about terrorists; strife from afar But I open the Bible, and read of God’s Peace Of the Gift that God gave us that never will cease.

I see pictures of people with riches galore They have all they want; yet they still strive for more. But God gave us riches that money can’t buy From His humble beginning; His Grace is now nigh.

I read stories of people who cheat on their mate I know children who stay on the streets ‘til it’s late I hear people who cry out: “Where is God today? I have piles of bills I can never repay.

“I can’t make my life work, despite how I try I’m hopeless; I’m helpless.  I can’t help but cry. There’s no one to help me and I have no hope I’m friendless; grief’s endless and I cannot cope.”

Yet, here, in their darkness, there shines a great Light...

Who are those people in my spot?

I wipe the sweat off my eyelids.   The woman nestles in my corner.  She whispers to the man who is wiping her forehead.  I pick up my last water run of the day and pivot behind the wall.

Who?

The owl flies past and lands in his usual spot, the beam above the strangers.  A donkey brays, prompting low giggles from the two.  I can’t help it, I want my spot.  I put the jugs against the stone wall and pivot back.

Wiping my now dusty and sweaty face, they don’t see me.  The cow seems to realize our arrangement; that I’m allowed to stay in that corner as long as I feed and water the animals.  The cow snorts in a tattle as he looks my way.  He probably knows I’m empty handed.

Who?

The owl looks down at the man and woman and echoes my thoughts.  The couple continues their whispers until the woman lets out a moan and clutches her stomach.  I want to retreat back to the water, but I step forward.

“Is it time?”

The man holds her hand. ...