Sharon Dow

I find I can’t quite let Mary go from last week. My new favourite carol is, Mary Did You Know. As I listen to the words of the song, I find shivers running down my back each time the singer reaches the phrase, Mary did you know . . . when you kissed your little baby, you kissed the face of God. In John 14:9, Jesus says, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”

Holding my own new-born babies was a thrill not equaled in any other human experience, but to hold the Son of God? That’s powerful. That’s profound.

But today it’s about Joseph, the man chosen by God to be the earthly father of His son, Jesus. There is not much information about Joseph housed in the pages of Scriptures, but we can make certain assumptions, knowing that God would want to place his son with a man who would be a role model and would offer love and protection for this baby. Let’s visit the stable again where we left Joseph and Mary asleep.

Joseph

Joseph opened his eyes, aware of movement. For a minute he wasn’t sure where he was, then it flooded his mind. The stable, of course. Why couldn’t I find a better place for Mary? She’s so brave. He shook his head in wonder. He reached over to touch her, but his hand found only empty space.

“Mary.” He whispered her name into the darkness, sitting up and rubbing his head.

“I’m right here, Joseph.”

Her voice was close but seemed to float in the stale air. “Where are you?”

“I’m just sitting on the saddle for awhile.” The words came slowly, like tiny puffs of air. “Go back to sleep, Joseph. You had a hard day.”

Joseph struggled from a sitting position and felt his way until he found Mary. “What’s wrong, Mary, I can hear the strain in your voice.” He crouched on his knees beside her. It was so dark in the stable that he was unable to see her outline.

Her hand reached out and caressed his head. “It’s nothing really, I . . . I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

“Mary, tell me what’s wrong.” Joseph felt his heart begin to race.

Instead of an answer, he felt Mary tighten, and heard a tiny gasp escape from her lips.

“Mary, what is it?” He could feel panic grip his body as he reached out to grasp her arm. In response she leaned against him.

“I . . . I think, maybe . . . the baby . . .” Another gasp followed the first one and this time she grasped his hand and squeezed.

“Oh Mary, not here.” He stood and lifted her in his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder as he moved to place her gently on the makeshift bed. “You can’t have the baby here.” He adjusted the pile of hay to make it more comfortable for her.

A little sniggle of laughter came from Mary. “Joseph dear, babies come when babies come.” Her hand found his and gripped tightly. “Just don’t leave me Joseph,” Mary sighed.

“Mary, I promise you, that I will be by your side through everything that this night brings to us and as far into the future as we walk together. Before God, you have my promise.”

“You’re a good man, Joseph. God chose well.” Her hand caressed his face as the two awaited the birth of the Son of God.”

What an amazing night for these two ordinary people, chosen by God to be part of an extraordinary historic event that changed the world forever. May the spirit of Joseph; loving, serving, caring, obeying; be in your hearts this Christmas.

December . . . I turn the calendar to the next page, my monthly ritual. I study the picture, admiring the winter scene; softly falling snow gathering on evergreen branches, a one horse sleigh pulled up beside a small festive train station, a lighted church visible in the distance, its spire touching the snow laden sky.

Just the usual monthly duty . . . but no, not this month. It’s December: Christmas is coming. Coming to Earth, coming to my house, already singing in my heart. Carols have been drifting through the rooms for many days and my thoughts are turning to family events, gifts, decorating, baking; all the things that bring joy to my home. But I paused as I viewed the scene, giving thanks to God for His coming to Earth, for His gift.

Somewhere in my thoughts, I realized that I wanted to revisit the scenes of the first Christmas for a fresh look at the people in the stable that night. Today, I bring you Mary. I want to try to bring her to life for you.

People in the Stable: Mary

A young couple approached the opening to the rough stable, ducking their heads so as not to hit the dark wooden cross pieces. Inside Mary paused, resting her hand on Joseph’s arm.

“I’m so sorry Mary.” His voice was a whisper as he laid his hand over hers.  Her head dropped to his chest feeling the coarse fabric of his robe.

“Don’t be, Joseph.” Her face lifted to his and soft lips stretched to reveal the smile lurking there. “God is already here.” She moved away from him, lifted her arms to the roof and slowly turned in a circle. “I can feel him. Can’t you, Joseph?”

“Mary, oh Mary. You deserve better than this.” Deep lines dug into his forehead and between his eyes. He pulled on the rope in his hand, allowing the donkey to enter beside him.

“Joseph, dear Joseph, you’ve done such a great job of looking after me, but don’t you see? You’ve done what God told you to do. And He’s here, ahead of us.” With her head tipped to one side, she smiled up at him, playfully pushing her hands on his chest. “Everything will turn out just fine, Joseph, I can feel it.”

His arms stretched around her and he pulled her close. “Mary, you’re so strong. I . . . I just wanted better for you.”

“Don’t be silly. If God is here, what could be better than that?”  Her hand reached out and stroked the donkey’s nose as he nuzzled against her shoulder. “And you’ve been such a good donkey. You’ve walked that whole long distance with me on your back.”  A soft whicker was his response.

“Come, Joseph, let’s get our things unpacked. I just feel it’s going to be a long night.” A suppressed giggle escaped her curved lips.

“Let’s do it. It’s impossible to not be cheerful when you’re around, Mary.”

The two worked side and side in silence until the donkey was relieved of his burden and Joseph had found hay and patted it into a rough bed. Mary lovingly spread a blanket over the hay.

She stood up, one hand on her back, and surveyed their work. “There now, Joseph, it looks just like home.” A sparkle lit her eyes as she gazed at her husband.

                Night deepened as Joseph and Mary slept, unaware of the stable noises around them.

We’ll leave them there, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the events falling into place in Heaven and on Earth that would soon end their rest. The universe held its collective breath as the moments piled up that would unfold the ultimate drama in history; God and man combined in an incomprehensible union.

Join me next week for part two of People in the Stable.

My Tribute

During the last 5 days, I have lost two special people; one a very close friend, the other a dear cousin. The next two blogs will be my tribute to each of them. This blog will be dedicated to Chris Baker, a friend for more than 40 years.

A Personal Tribute to my Special Friend

Over forty years ago, Chris and I met in a random and serendipitous way. Our families clicked right away, and so began a 40 year friendship that has stood the test of time and now of eternity.

In the beginning, Wilse and I enjoyed a meeting of the minds, having so much in common through our teaching, our strong political views (different parties), competitive at games, a love for debate on almost any issue. Chris was in the background, just being her usual accommodating self.

Over the years, our friendship began to grow and deepen. The city girl and the country girl began to seek out what was in each other’s hearts. We grew together until our relationship was special and solid. We cried together, we shared joys and sorrows; we shared secrets that only we could share. We celebrated our differences and developed our points of similarities.

As I remember Chris today, the outstanding characteristic I see is loyalty. Her family came first in her earthly life and her loyalty to them never failed. She sustained hurts and joys, always remaining constant in her acceptance of them. It was the same with her friendships. I could always count on her to be there when I needed her.

Love loomed large in her personality. So many people benefited from her outpouring of love. It came from her heart and was unconditional, free, without strings, and abundant. My own sons have often remarked on how she made them feel they were a part of her family. That she loved them was evident in all she said and did and was felt and understood by them.

She lived her life for her Saviour. There is no question in my mind that she in now in Heaven. I believe that Christ came for her last Thursday, and said, “Chris, it’s time.” I can visualize him with his hand outstretched to her, beckoning her to come. The world faded for her and she left her final words for us, “I’m gone.” Gone to be with Jesus; gone to her final resting place; gone to receive her eternal reward.

The Bible says, “Absent from the body; present with the Lord.” That’s Chris. She shed her earthly body, and is now present with her Lord.

How could I wish her back? Her pain is gone, her heart is whole again, her balance has been restored, she has no more tears.

But for us who are left behind, she leaves a hole in our lives that can never be filled by anyone else. She was unassuming, never putting herself first; but she carved out places in our hearts that go deep.

Chris, I already miss you. I can’t believe I can never talk to you again until the final call comes for me. But that call will come and I will see her again. Until that time, her memory will remain alive in my heart and I will cherish every memory of her.

Good-bye my friend, I love you.

Give thanks with a grateful heart

Give thanks to the Holy One

Give thanks because He’s given Jesus Christ His son . . .

Thanksgiving Day is fast approaching and our hearts and minds turn inward to reflect on our blessings as we share special times with family and friends. I’m thankful for all the ‘usual’ things we’re expected to mention; family, friends, neighbours . . . but in this blog, I want to go to a deeper level, to the very core of my being and explore the things that tug at my heart.

As I look back over my life, there have been many times that I’ve felt the ‘soft tug on the heartstrings’ that bring soft, gentle tears to my eyes. This is where I want to focus today; on what brings those moments of pain and pleasure for me.

One of the greatest tugs was holding each of my children immediately after birth, gazing at this new creation, and knowing that this gift was mine to pour all of myself into the life of this precious little one. Tears of joy welled up inside me with each birth. Now, years later, I still hold that wonder as I see what they have each become and I treasure them and the adulthood they have embraced.

Birth always brings the tug on my heart. When I saw my oldest son holding his newborn son for the first time, I saw the little blue hat as I entered the room and my heart swelled with gratefulness as I saw that he had survived a difficult birth. When I saw my second grandson he was so ‘new’ that he still had not been dressed and was lying on the scale so peacefully. He was so beautiful and perfect that the ‘tug’ came and tears of joy followed. Then my granddaughter was born, the very first girl in the family. My first gaze at her is seared in my mind forever, her dear little face, so innocent and lovely. Next, another boy; I saw him first in my second son’s arms and watched as the wonder played over his face. Another special moment; another tug. Now another girl; but this time the tug was doubled as this little family had just come through a major life crisis; what a cry of victory for this birth, and so aptly named Victoria. Such a tiny being brought so much joy into my life and into the lives of her mom and dad. And last of all, our lovely third granddaughter was born, making the total three of each. Another tug as I held her, a precious child, for the first time.

The heart tugs are not always happy: sitting with my youngest son as he was hooked up to an IV machine and chemicals were poured into his body as he battled cancer. Watching him bravely face each moment, each daily session, each bout of nausea tugged at my heart. I sat with him the day it finally hit him that he was a cancer patient. The heart strings were tugged fiercely that day. Getting the word that all was well after the treatments were over was a big day. My heart is still tugged each time he goes for a regular check-up every few of months.

Standing in a funeral parlor or a church and looking lovingly into the face of a friend or relative who has just departed our world tugs at my heart. Part of the tug is sadness, but a part is gratefulness that I was allowed the love and friendship for the time allotted. Pain and pleasure are so intertwined in our lives that it is sometimes hard to separate them in our minds.

Parades can tug at my heart as I hold a child’s hand and see the wonder on his face as the parade rolls by. This one took me by surprise the first time it happened. My children were very young and we took them to a Santa Claus parade. The day was perfect; crisp and cool. The parade was the usual; I had been to lots of them over the years. But then I looked into the faces of my children and saw the wonder in their eyes, and the heart strings tugged and the tears gathered.

I recently had an adverse reaction to an anti-biotic and was very sick. I watched my husband of many years so faithfully waiting on me and expressing his love and concern in so many small ways. What a blessing. Before he left for work each morning, he made breakfast for me and encouraged me to eat; he made sure I had fresh water to drink; he helped me from bed if I needed to get up. He exhibited a true servant’s heart. Again, that mixing of pain and pleasure.

I’m thankful that God in His great wisdom has given us the ability to feel things with our hearts. This means we’ll feel pain as well as pleasure, defeat as well as victory; but these are a part of life, a part of the eternal design for living.

What tugs at your heart? As we celebrate another Thanksgiving, look into your heart and see what brings those moments and be thankful for them; for the intricate mix of pain and pleasure. May you and your family be blessed, not just on Thanksgiving Day, but every day of your lives.