This time of the year it is dark most of the day. We are heading toward the longest night of the year in late December. It is dark when I eat dinner, dark when I go to bed, dark when I wake up in the morning.
As I sat in the dark this morning, I could not stop thinking about the wonder of that first Christmas. What it must have been like that dark night before the shepherds arrived with the news of the angel’s message.
What was it like for Joseph? He must have felt a bit helpless, perhaps even like a failure. He’d taken Mary on a long trip during her last trimester of pregnancy, when she was the most uncomfortable. They’d ended up in the lowliest of places. He must have been humiliated. Perhaps he was also a bit angry that those who had more sheltered areas in the “inn” would not relinquish them even to a young girl in labor with her firstborn.
What was it like for Mary? I imagine she was scared. I know I was scared with my firstborn, and I had a lot of help around. Had she seen other women in her family give birth? Did she know what to expect? She knew this was God’s child – if anyone knew that, she did. Did that same faith that she had when the angel first appeared to her to announce that she would be the Messiah’s mother rise again as she faced the travail of labor?
Whatever it was like for them, before that dark night was over Jesus was born. Mary would have been like all mothers, counting his little fingers and toes, kissing his cheek, placing him at her breast.
God’s Son had arrived on earth and for the next 33 years he would share in the limitations of our mortal flesh.
John 1:9: The one who is the true light, who gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. [NLT]
