The morning feels mysterious--wrapped in darkness, fog, quietly illuminated by the gleaming candles. Snug and warm, I ponder the wonder that comes tonight. I think of Mary & Joseph who will be this night in Bethlehem....They awaken to begin the last day of travel... weary, dirty, cold. Does Mary feel any signs of the impending birth? Or is she so exhausted that she doesn't feel anything at all? In my mind, they begin their trek walking alongside the donkey who carries their supplies for the journey--blankets, a skin of water, some bread. By day's end, Mary's labor has begun, and she can no longer walk. Riding their donkey now, each contraction causes her to grab his mane tightly; her water breaks as they enter Bethlehem in the dark. Wet,cold, trembling with exhaustion and fear, she's uncomplaining, but Joseph knows he must find her a place to lie down for surely his child will be born before dawn. He knocks on door after door. As each opens he catches a glimpse of the warmth and conviviality of the families gathered inside; he watches as other travelers relax, laugh and eat. For him and Mary, though, there is no room--except in the stable. Will that suit? It doesn't, but there are no other options, and Mary's time is very near. I'd like to imagine that the innkeeper took a moment to help them get settled, that he knew Mary was about to give birth, so he tried to make their meager lodging a bit more comfortable. Perhaps he left a lantern, a jar of wine, an extra blanket? Perhaps he told Joseph, "Come to the inn whenever the Babe is born, and I'll send a jar of warm water to bathe the Babe and for Mary to cleanse herself. My servant girl, Iscah, will help." I can see Mary slowly slide off the faithful donkey and sink to her knees on the stiff, prickly straw covering the stable floor. "Oh Joseph," she softly cries, "has God given me a burden too big to bear?" Then she remembers the words of the angel Gabriel, and her heart fills with God's warmth, her 'soul magnifies and her heart rejoices' because tonight--very soon--her Babe will be born, blessed by God. Joseph cares for the donkey while Mary spreads the blankets. As the darkest hour of the night wraps them in quiet, the only sounds are Mary's muffled cries and the soft breathing of their stablemates--the cow, the sheep, the innkeeper's dog who has come to stand guard. A tiny black cat peers down at the scene from her perch on a rafter and purrs; the chickens ruffle their feathers and settle again on their roosts along the wall where the cow eats her hay. As Mary's moans become more frequent, all awake to watch and wait....
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