I was speechless! But at the same time my heart bubbled with joy at her words. Cousin Elizabeth knew what was happening in me! She understood the miracle Jehovah had begun!
“The babe inside me leaped!” she said with moist eyes. “The moment I saw you ...” Then she took my hand and firmly placed it on her rounded belly. “My son leaped for joy! You have been greatly blessed, dear Mary. You have believed what God has told you. And now every word will come true!”
And it was as if Jehovah himself had removed the cork that had been keeping my words within me, and like a psalm, or perhaps a fountain of praise, they came pouring out of me. Elizabeth laughed and clapped her hands when I finished.
Even now I still remember those words. I know them by heart. Sometimes I repeat them to myself. I think they might help me on this dark and hopeless night. And now, perhaps more than ever before, I am encouraged by the powerful truth. I remind myself that this thing—this thing that mighty Jehovah has begun—is not over yet.
Lord God Jehovah has filled my soul to bursting!
And my spirit rejoices in my Savior!
Although I was lowly, he honored me—he chose me for his handmaid.
And forevermore I shall be called blessed!
Jehovah has done great things for me, and his name is Holy!
His mercy is poured out on all who trust him.
He shows his power and strength and tumbles the proud.
He dethrones the mighty and exalts the humble.
He feeds the hungry, but those who think they are rich leave with nothing.
He remembers his chosen Israel, pouring out his mercy!
Just as he has promised—beginning with Abraham and for all eternity!
3
DURING MY VISIT WITH Elizabeth, I was treated like a princess. My cousin was so delighted to have my company during the latter part of her pregnancy. Especially since her husband, Zacharias, was unable to speak. I found this strangely intriguing. How could it be that a priest was unable to speak? Then Elizabeth explained how Zacharias had doubted the angel of the Lord when he told him that God planned to bless them with a child.
“My poor husband could not believe that anyone as ancient as he and I could bear children,” Elizabeth said, sadly shaking her head. “He doubted God.”
I nodded with understanding. After all, that was exactly what my own mother had done.
“And in that moment God struck him mute,” Elizabeth said with an amused smile. “As a result, it has been very quiet around here—that is, until you arrived.”
Elizabeth made sure I ate healthful foods and got plenty of sleep while in her home. She also shared with me all the knowledge she had been gathering about pregnancy and childbirth. She was the kind of woman who had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and a love for God that was unsurpassed. To this day, I think of her as one of my finest examples of womanhood, and I am eternally grateful for the influence she had on my life.
She also took me under her wing in regard to my wardrobe. Without insulting my poor peasant girl attire, she helped me make some lovely garments that I later used for my wedding and married life, as well as some fine pieces for my still unborn son. She had an eye for beauty and quality unlike any I had ever seen before.
Being with Elizabeth for all those weeks was like a priceless gift from God. Her faith and strength and wisdom encouraged me every single day of my visit. And she helped confirm that Jehovah had indeed blessed me with the greatest honor given to women.
“The child in your womb will change the course of history,” she told me. And whenever I felt overwhelmed by such strong prophetic words, worried that I, an inexperienced young girl, would be incapable of mothering such an important child, she gently reminded me that the Lord God would show me how to do these things.
“Lean on him, Mary,” she often said. “The Lord Jehovah will lead you.”
Her genuine love and kind words were like a fortification that strengthened my heart, and after three months passed I felt ready for what lay ahead. I knew it was time to go home.
Elizabeth and I embraced for a long moment when I was about to leave. She was nearly ready to deliver, and her belly was so swollen that I could barely wrap my arms around her. Both of us were crying, tears of joy mixed with tears of sorrow.
“The Lord God Jehovah bless you at your birthing time,” I told her as I wiped my eyes. “Blessings upon you and your son and his father.”
“And on you,” she said, waving a silk scarf as I left her home. “And upon my Lord, your son.”
Asher was waiting for me down by the road. Once again he had been too embarrassed to come inside Elizabeth and Zacharias’s fine house, although I knew he had gladly taken the food the servant had given him. He appeared to have finished his meal, as he rested in the shade of an olive tree. But when he saw me he stood and waved.
“I think I must be traveling with royalty,” he said as he pretended to bow. “Where did you get the new clothes?”
Embarrassed by my finery, I quickly explained that our cousin Elizabeth was very generous.
“I noticed,” he said as he nodded to the large bundle the servant had given him to carry for me. I had a smaller bundle of my own.
“Do you mind?” I asked, feeling guilty for being such a burden.
“Not for you, little sister.” Then he hugged me and told me he had missed me at home. “And I am not the only one,” he said as we began walking north. “Your betrothed is beside himself.”
“Joseph?”
He nodded. “Who else? The poor man has asked me at least a dozen times when you planned to come home. I think he was worried that you had left us for good.”
Joseph. I had barely considered him during my time away. Not that I did not care about him. I certainly did. But I had no idea how he would react to my rather shocking announcement. Instead of fretting, I reminded myself of Elizabeth’s words. “Trust Jehovah. He will see you through.”
As we walked, I prayed that Jehovah would also see Joseph through. For I knew as well as anyone that Joseph, the strong and handsome carpenter, was indeed a proud man. A good man, no doubt, but any man (no matter how good) would have to question how his betrothed had come to be in the family way and yet remained a virgin. It was clear that I had some explaining to do. Trust Jehovah, I told myself. He will see me through.
I remind myself of these same words again tonight. I know that, more than ever, I need to believe this. Trust Jehovah, and he will see me through. Trust Jehovah.
Weary from travel after I got home, I spent a couple of days in solitude and rest—and prayer. But I knew I could not avoid Joseph forever, and on the third day I sent a message through Asher that I wanted to speak to my betrothed. I invited Joseph to meet me in our family’s garden, hoping that would keep our conversation private. I even wore one of the new outer garments Elizabeth had helped me create, along with a very fine linen veil and several bracelets. I could tell by Joseph’s expression that he was truly happy to see me, and I suspect that my improved appearance was pleasing to him. This did not make the task before me any easier.
After a formal greeting, I decided to speak frankly. I had no flowery speech prepared, no persuasive words to convince him of my innocence. All I knew to do was to simply tell him the truth. And so I did.
Joseph’s dark brows drew together, and his face twisted in pain, and perhaps anger, at my words. I knew he did not believe me. Still, he said nothing. He just stared at me in the most accusing way. It reminded me of the look I had received from my mother—only magnified.
“I am sorry that you do not believe me,” I began.
“How can I believe you?” he said in a tightly controlled voice, as if each word caused him agony.
I nodded. “Yes, I knew this would be difficult. But I am praying that Jehovah will show you the truth.”
“The truth?” He exhaled loudly and folded his arms across his chest as he looked down on me. I could tell by his gaze that he considered me as s
omething dirty, something beneath him, something he would not willingly associate himself with any longer than necessary. “I can see the truth, Mary,” he said in a surprisingly calm but sad voice. “You have been away for three long months. You come back wearing fine clothing and gold bracelets, and now you tell me you are with child. The truth is quite obvious.”
“That is not—”
He held up his hand to stop my words. “Silent, woman!”
I just nodded and waited for his wrath to continue.
He stood there for a long time, and I could tell that he was thinking, perhaps deciding how he would deal with me. I am sure he assumed that my fate was in his hands. According to our culture, it was. However, I knew that only Jehovah controlled my future. And so I waited.
“I think it is best to handle this as quietly as possible,” he finally told me. “You will go away . . . perhaps back to your relatives in the hills of Judah or wherever you have been. We will make an excuse, explaining that there has been a misunderstanding, that I have changed my mind in regard to taking you as—” He actually choked. “As my bride.”
Then he turned and walked away.
I tried to remember Elizabeth’s words just then, her admonition to trust Jehovah despite how things might look. But it was not easy.
Perhaps faith is like that—it is not easy. But, in a way, it is very simple. We cannot do it by ourselves, that is obvious. But when we turn to the Lord God Jehovah, he gives us what we are lacking—faith. That is where I am tonight. It is not easy. Nothing about this excruciating day has been easy. But I will not make it through this night without faith. Please, Lord, increase my faith that I might survive until morning.
4
SOME NIGHTS MAKE YOU long for the dawn. And yet when the sun finally starts to rise, you want it to be gentle and kind, perhaps veiled by the clouds, easing you into the day that may devour you before it is even half over.
That is how I felt the morning after my conversation with Joseph. I knew he had been gracious, all things considered, but I also knew that this was just the sort of situation where a man might change his mind. For instance, he still had his family to discuss the dissolution of our engagement with. What if they became enraged by what they would surely suspect as my unfaithfulness to him? What if they refused to accept his “excuses” for ending our agreement? There was potential for all sorts of things to go wrong. Still, I tried to remain faithful to Jehovah’s plan, making an effort not to dwell on the potential pitfalls. I knew the only thing I could really do was wait.
My mother avoided my eyes that morning. I suspect that she also knew that my future was hanging in the balance, and I suppose she thought she could postpone the inevitable by ignoring me altogether. In fact, it seemed that everyone in my family had been treating me differently since my visit with Elizabeth. Except for Asher, although even he seemed somewhat uncomfortable since we had gotten home.
Fortunately for me, the garden had been neglected during my absence and there was much to be done in order to bring it back into the pristine condition I always tried to maintain. It provided a good distraction for me during that long day of waiting. And as I weeded I tried to stifle any visions of my being dragged through the streets of Nazareth by Joseph’s indignant family and then thrown down before the village priests and elders as I was accused of my crime—fornication or possibly adultery, since our engagement was a legally binding commitment—and then given my sentence. But sometimes, when I least expected it, this image would flash through my mind with the speed of a cast stone, and all I could do was take in a deep breath and pray.
I am sure I jumped when I heard Joseph saying my name.
“Mary?”
I dropped the piece of twine that I had been about to use to tie up the grape vine that was hanging down in the dirt. Still stooped down like an animal caught in a trap, I glanced over my shoulder. Part of me expected to see his angry brothers clustered behind him, ready to dish out my fate. But Joseph appeared to be alone.
“Joseph,” I said calmly as I stood straight, wiping my dusty hands on the sides of one of my older tunics, not nearly so fine as what I had worn the night before. Then I pushed a fallen strand of hair back beneath my veil and held my shoulders back and waited.
“Mary,” he said again, but the tone of his voice was gentle. And then, to my utter astonishment, he fell down on both knees before me, taking my right hand in his. “I am so sorry.”
“For what?” I asked, longing for him to get back to his feet.
“For not believing you.”
I felt my eyes growing large. “But you do believe me now?”
He nodded. “An angel of the Lord appeared to me last night. It was incredible, Mary. He told me that all that you said is true. He told me many things. He even told me what we are to name our son.”
“Our son?” I felt tears filling my eyes. I went down on my knees in front of Joseph.
“Yes, Mary, our son. We will soon be married, and you will give birth to the Son of God, just as you told me, and I will take care of both of you.”
“Oh, Joseph!”
Now, in all honesty, I can say that this is the very moment when I really began to love this man. And this was a love that grew and grew over the years. I know now it was no mistake that God chose sweet Joseph to be my husband and to help me raise and care for our son.
“I am so sorry,” he said again, and I saw that tears were filling his eyes. “I will never doubt you again.”
We both slowly rose to our feet, and then we embraced. I still remember the feeling of his strong arms around me. I knew that this good man was able to protect me. I remember the deep sigh of relief that escaped my lips just then.
And then we stepped apart. I think we were both slightly embarrassed by our first open display of affection for one another. But I knew that something miraculous had happened in that moment. I knew that God had knit our hearts together as one. And just as I felt encouraged when my cousin Elizabeth had believed in me, I felt even more so now with my betrothed.
“We will marry as soon as possible,” Joseph told me as I wiped my tears.
“Joseph?” I said suddenly.
“Yes, dear one?”
“What is his name?”
“Jesus,” Joseph said with authority. “His name is to be called Jesus.” Then he looked down upon me with the most tender expression I had ever seen, and I knew without doubt that my future would be safe in the hands of this man—and in the hands of Jehovah.
Tonight, as much as I longed for that unwavering strength of my good and gentle husband, I am thankful that Joseph did not have to witness the events of this awful day. I fear it would have broken his heart completely. For Joseph always loved Jesus just as dearly as if he had been his own flesh and blood. In fact, there were times when our other children accused their father of favoritism. But then I suppose all children fret about this sort of nonsense.
But I know that if Joseph had been alive to see what happened in Jerusalem today, he would have thrown himself at the Roman guards who were mercilessly beating Jesus. He would have attempted to stop them, and I am sure he would have even tried to take Jesus’s torture upon himself. That is how much he loved our son. And it would have killed him. I wonder if my Joseph watched these atrocities from paradise today. And, if he could see, I wonder if he, like me, still weeps.
5
THEY SAY THAT TEARS last for the night but joy comes in the morning. I fear that is not true today. For even as the sky changes from slate to pale gray, I feel no joy. Only a vast, sad emptiness that fills every corner of my soul. No one is stirring as I slip out to the terrace to view the breaking of the dawn. I am slightly surprised that the sun has even risen today. I am disturbed that it has the nerve to show its face around here after the Son of God was put to death only yesterday. There is some satisfaction in seeing a thick layer of clouds obscuring much of the light. Perhaps those clouds might even bring rain. I do not think I can abide a cheerful blue
sky today.
I sit down on a bench and force my mind to remember another day that I can dwell in for a while. I recall another time when I rose early like this to greet the dawn. Indeed, that was a happy day. It brimmed with hope and expectation, and I could not wait for it to begin. Now, you might think my wedding day was a somber and anticlimactic affair, especially after all that Joseph and I had been through. But that is not how I saw it. Not at all! I welcomed that day with an open heart—I could not wait for the festivities to begin.
I am certain my parents were greatly relieved that Joseph and I were going ahead with our wedding. And when Joseph asked to push the day forward, he received no resistance from my parents. In some ways it was as if the entire town was relieved. My sister Sarah said there had been rumors circulating at the well, but, being a loyal sister, she did all she could to stifle them. And, apparently, her efforts paid off, for everyone seemed thoroughly glad that Joseph and I were celebrating our nuptials.
It was not a large wedding, but it was a joyous one. I wore my finest clothes and even the gold bracelets and earrings Elizabeth had given me for this special day. We had plenty of good food and music and wine, and our guests remained happy and stayed long into the night. Indeed, our wedding was remembered as one of Nazareth’s happiest affairs. It was even on this occasion when Sarah’s future husband first noticed her. He was a merchant from Cana, and Sarah still claims it was because he was so impressed with my wedding that he pursued her. But at the time I reminded her that she was becoming a beautiful young woman.
She laughed. “If only I could grow to be half as beautiful as you.”
Three Days: A Mother's Story Page 2
