If you hadn't noticed, it's Christmas. There isn't snow on the ground, but the wrapping of too many gifts and the baking of too many goodies and the hustle of shopping for last minute forgotten items tells me the season is really here. Busyness is trying to war with my worship today. I need to remember what this is all about. I need to focus on the entire reason this season is so special. The BEST gift.
Without this gift, I'd be nothing, have nothing, possess no hope for the future. I'd be swallowed up and eaten alive by anxiety. I'd be no good at all to my family and friends. I'd have nothing to write about.
In Jesus, I have everything. I have peace, anticipation of future promises, strength for today, joy in the simplicity of everything this life can be.
I'm sharing a scene from my latest biblical fiction novel. I hope it gives you a moment to pause and consider in a new way the age-old message of Christmas.
EXCERPT FROM MY BROTHER THE KING...
***
“Daughters, come near,” Yosef said weakly from his pallet on the floor. He had been thrashing back and forth all evening. The girls had been huddled in the corner together, watching his face grow white and his desperate breathing become a tell-tale rattle in his chest. They knew death, and they knew their father was close to it.
They came to him and kneeled beside him. Talia buried her head in Yosef’s tunic, crying.
“Save your tears for mourning, little Talia. I want to go to Sheol with the memories of your beautiful smiles.”
“Please don’t go, Abba,” Talia begged as she tried to stop her tears. Her sobs only grew deeper.
“Be silent so I can speak,” Abba said tenderly, lifting a trembling hand to Talia’s cheek. When she quieted, he spoke again. “When I am gone, little lambs, you must do something for me.”
“Anything, Abba,” Hannah leaned over him and squeezed his arm. “Just say the words.”
Yosef smiled at her and reached a hand to smooth back the hair from her face. “Little Hannah. Only eight years on this earth and you wish to be a grown woman. Don’t be in such a hurry. Womanhood will come all too soon.”
“Amen,” Hannah said without thinking. She took his other hand. “May you be there to see me as a woman.”
“I will not be there,” Yosef said decidedly. “I want my daughters to be strong. Help your Ama in her grief.”
They hesitated, exchanging glances, then nodded.
“Whatever happens, you must both follow Yeshue. Not only in matters relating to the family, for he will be the head of this house, but in all things. He is the M’sheekha, and you must follow him.”
Yosef’s voice became urgent, almost as a plea, as the spirit ebbed away behind his warm brown eyes. “I have told your brothers the same.”
“Yes, Abba,” they both said in unison.
“If only I had the time to tell you…” Yosef’s voice faded and Hannah thought he had died. A cold chill spread over her.
“I must speak to Yeshue,” he said suddenly, squeezing their hands with his little remaining strength. “Send in the one they call my son.”
They sprang up from his pallet, crying as they descended the ladder and ran to find Yeshue. Hannah found him in the courtyard, sitting against the wall, his head in his hands. She was not sure if he was praying, or crying, or both.
“Abba asks for you,” she said. He jumped at the sound of her voice, as if he’d been surprised by her voice. Very rarely did anyone surprise Yeshue. He must have been deep in thought.
He stood and motioned for her to come to him. He kissed her head. “Go to your sister, Hannah. She will need you to hold her while she grieves.”
Hannah nodded, a lump in her throat.
“You are a strong one. A brave girl.” He squeezed her shoulders before he went to Yosef.
Instead of going to Talia, Hannah followed Yeshue back into the house. She sat in the doorway and listened to their words. She had to strain her ears to hear Abba’s words over Ama’s sniffling.
“Son, my time has come,” Yosef said.
Yeshue said nothing. After a moment, he nodded.
“I know we haven’t spoken of it in a long time, but I want to remind you of your birth. Make sure you understand.”
Hannah would have laughed if it had been any other circumstance. Yosef and Maryam had talked often of Yeshue’s birth. Sometimes Hannah wondered if they could speak of anything else.
“I understand, Abba.” Hannah heard Yeshue’s soft answer.
“Ah, let an old man speak his memories,” Yosef chuckled, which made him cough.
“If he must,” Yeshue sat down on the stool made by Yosef’s own hands. “I will be glad to listen.”
“You indulge me,” Yosef said, and Yeshue chuckled in response.
“Your mother was the most beautiful girl in town. Have I told you that? Long dark hair, shiny brown eyes full of innocence…”
“You describe every young woman I can think of, Abba,” Yeshue teased him mildly.
Yosef reached a hand to lightly slap Yeshue’s arm. “You are employed here only as a listener.”
Yeshue nodded and bowed his head in deference.
“I was taken with her from the moment I arrived in town. You know I came from Bethlehem, but our family had come to Nazareth for the wedding of my cousin. We ended up staying for several weeks, and I wanted her for my wife, if her father could be convinced to let her marry an old bachelor.”
“An old bachelor at twenty-four. You wound me. I hadn’t realized at twenty-five I was useless and elderly.”
Yosef wheezed a short laugh. “Well, I seemed an old bachelor to Maryam. She was barely thirteen. But there was something about her. Wisdom beyond her years. She wasn’t flighty or silly as the other young women. She had a peace about her I found very attractive.”
“As you should have.” Yeshue looked at his mother across Yosef’s pallet and nodded.
“I decided not to ask for her, though. Surely she deserved better than a poor carpenter.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“In the end I didn’t need to. Her father’s olive crop was destroyed by flies and they had no money to pay the tax. He would have had to sell her to save the little ones, so I paid the bride price. He asked me to wait a year before I took her to my home because she was so young, and I agreed.
“Not two months after this, Maryam was visited by the angel.”
“Gabriel,” Yeshue said with a nod. Almost like he spoke of an old friend.
“Imagine my shock when she came to me with wild stories of angels and heavenly messages. I pulled her aside to hear what nonsense she had dreamed up. When she told me she was going to have a baby, my blood ran cold.”
Hannah sneaked into the animal shelter underneath the floor. She watched them through a small hole in the floor of the upper story. She knew her parents would make her leave if they knew she was listening to such a conversation. But she was intensely curious about the part of the story no one would speak about when she was around. Her brother Y’hud played nearby, banging on a pot with all his strength. She glared at him, and he gave her a toothy smile.
“You did well to hear her out,” Yeshue said.
“I was like one possessed,” Yosef continued, his voice softer and weaker. “I wanted to rage and find the man who had defiled her. I would give him justice. But she went on about how the baby would be born of the Spirit of Alaha. He would be the M’sheekha.”
“Did you believe her?”
“Yeshue, surely you know every woman who has come to be with child in the last four hundred years has claimed to be carrying the M’sheekha.”
Yeshue smiled. “Ah, but it is true.”
“Well, I marched her right back to her father’s home and left her there, too angry to say a word. Then I paced the rest of the day, trying to decide what to do.”
“You did well not to have her publicly shamed.”
“I did not want to run ahead of Adonai.” Yosef closed his eyes, his words slurring as he tried to gather strength to finish the tale. Yeshue put his hand on the older man’s arm, and the gesture gave Yosef strength to continue.
“I was going to put her away from me without anyone knowing. I wanted her life to be spared, at least. I thought maybe the father was a Roman soldier that had cornered her and taken advantage of her innocence. Maybe she’d come up with the angel story to cover the horror of what had happened.”
“You were a man of integrity, thinking the best of her.”
Yosef shook his head. “A good man would have stood by her and believed her story. Alaha had to send an angel to me before I would accept it.”
“You did, though. You didn’t question after that.”
“No, I didn’t. How could I question the word of Adonai?”
Yosef was quiet for a long time. When Hannah thought maybe he had died, he suddenly spoke again. “I am going to die.”
Hannah expected Yeshue to disagree—to urge Yosef to fight the illness and stay with them. After all, he had eight children and other relatives to care for. What would their family be without him?
“I know.” Hannah heard the catch in Yeshue’s voice and imagined the tears swimming in his eyes.
“You will be head of this house.”
“I understand.”
“Do you have any questions? Do you know what to do for the girls when they come of age? Do you understand how to balance family and the business, and still have time for your studies?”
“I think so,” Yeshue said simply.
Yosef nodded, visibly relaxing in the quiet confidence of his eldest son. “Don’t misunderstand me. I know you are here for a higher purpose than looking after the poor family of a tekton. You must be about your Father’s business, as you have reminded me.”
The words didn’t make sense to Hannah.
“I will do what I have come to do,” Yeshue promised.
“No man has ever left his family in better care. That I should be so blessed…”
Her father’s voice trailed off, and moments later, she heard the wails of her mother begin. Yeshue gathered his mother in his arms and wept with her.
***
This has been an excerpt from my novel "My Brother the King." I pray it allows your heart space to think and worship this Christmas on the wonder of everything our Savior was - even a simple son and a brother.
