Slipping off her sandals, Mary stepped into the washpan. The water was dirty. She cared not. A quick dry on the first cloth she could reach, and she laid down on her bedding.
Anxiety exhausts your body and wears down your mind. Lord, could it be that You meant someone else? There is an ache in my bones I cannot name. It’s just so heavy …
Through no effort of her own, Mary slid into slumber. At the darkest hour of the night, Holy Spirit entered her body, disseminating His peace. God the Father said good-bye to His Son, for His Spirit would become flesh. Heaven’s hands wove the baby Messiah, ensuring safety in Mary’s womb. Before leaving, Holy Spirit spoke healing in Mary’s body, that she will recover quickly and supernaturally from childbirth, barring the risks she will endure.
The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating Mary’s face.
“Child, what kind of soap did you use? Did you put any of that incense on your face?”
Mary heard her mother’s voice, as if in the distance. Her whole body was warm, from the inside out. She felt safe. Without interruption she may have stayed there all day! And the calmness …
Almost leaping out of bed, Mary wanted to tell her mother about Gabriel. Something stopped her. It was not the right time.
“Good morning, dear mother of mine. Isn’t that sun beautiful?” Mary stared out the window as she spoke.
“Mary, you can stargaze all you want after chores are done. Are you coming to help me fix breakfast? Your father is already off to work, but the boys haven’t eaten.”
“Oh, if I must,” she dramatized as she threw her hair back and rolled her eyes.
“Oh … just a little fun, Mother. I am coming. I must have slept extra well last night. I don’t feel so, feel so … heavy.”
“You want heavy? Go fetch the water for the first dishes. I will cook the eggs.”
With that, her mother was gone.
Oddly enough, in severe contrast to a few moments ago, Mary found herself crying. She began to rush around and wipe her tears.
Lord, my mama does not have time for my tears. Will you help her understand the baby you are sending is not my … not my … ahem … choice, Father, not my own choosing but Yours.
The Holy Spirit surrounded Mary. She accepted the comfort, His presence.
Oh, Lord, there is such warmth in my belly. Surely, it’s not the baby … yet … I mean nobody knows and …
Mary felt the presence of a hand on her stomach, a large hand. She looked around for an angel, but there was none to be found. Mary knew the baby was inside of her. She did not need to see to believe.
Our Father is extremely near to us, nearer yet when we keep our relationship with Him.
Mary went about her day, fetching water, cooking, cleaning. Mary wondered about Joseph. Mary had to tell him first, before anyone …
Thank you so much for joining me in this Christmas fiction series. I sense 2 or 3 more posts to be complete. Keep watch, stay alert. Not for my blog, but for Jesus Himself.
All photos are from Pixabay.com.
If you are following this story but are confused about what is true, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. This is fiction based upon the truth of the Holy Bible. My intention is not to cause any confusion for anyone.
If you are enjoying this story, feel free to leave a comment here.
If you are seeking hope, join me at 3pm Eastern time at https://Facebook.com/jdibble4Him. I will share a poem, a lesson I learned from grief, and read Psalm 16. If you miss the 3pm, you can catch the recorded video at that same Facebook address.
May God bless you this given day with peace, the true peace whose only source is Jesus.
In His love and for His glory,