More than a week earlier my betrothed and I left our hometown of Nazareth, in the northern highlands of Galilee. We travelled 90 miles to the town of his ancestors: south along the flatlands of the Jordan River, then west over the hills surrounding Jerusalem, and into Bethlehem.
I lost count of all the ups and downs on our journey. Hills and more hills. The temperature was in the 30s during the day and it rained like heck. Nasty. Miserable. And we had to snuggle tight at night to keep from freezing. The dawn awoke us more than once to snow. Our trip took almost nine days, twice the usual time because of my pregnancy. Heavy, woolen cloaks were all that protected our bodies from the rain and snow. Tube-like socks given to us by our neighbour and the enclosed shoes kept our feet dry.
One of the most terrifying dangers we faced was the heavily forested valley of the Jordan River. The threat of bandits and ambush haunted us every day. We were aware of the lions, wild boars, and bears native to those woods. Fortunately, we didn’t see any, or they didn’t see us.
We appreciated our daily bread. Breakfast was dried bread; lunch was oil with bread; dinner was herbs with oil and… bread. The diet gave me the giggles as it made me think of manna in the wilderness.
Finally, we arrived in Bethlehem and none too soon. We had just settled into our makeshift accommodations – a cave housing livestock - when my water broke. Poor Joseph. He rushed out looking for a midwife. I was so grateful for other pilgrims who were aware of my plight and stayed with me until he returned. When the contractions came, I forgot all about the noise and dirt surrounding me. I wished the woman at my side was my mother.
I felt life being ripped from me. But this little one had to live. Even if I died, he must live. Oh, Jehovah, let it be. The contractions kept coming in waves and there was less and less time between them to try and relax. And then it was over. Or was it just beginning?
“…and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.” Luke 2:7 (NIV)
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Well done, Bob, capturing the voice of a young lady enduring something no woman should have to go through. Childbirth is challenging enough under ideal circumstances. You brought her journey to life.
ReplyDeleteBlessings ~ Wendy Mac
Too kind. It is quite an undertaking for man to write about an intensely personal moment in a young woman's life.
DeleteThanks, Bob, for showing us the other side of Mary's story. Her vulnerability along the dangerous, difficult route while being at full term, and being alone in the birth of her first child, especially without her mother beside her, is something I'd never thought of before.
ReplyDeleteThat means a lot to receive feedback from a woman on a man's post about a woman. I tackled this subject thinking I knew a few things based on my wife's experience. I still know nothing about what that experience is all about.
DeleteWow! This is amazing Bob! I loved the perspective.
ReplyDeleteThank you Tracy.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your story of our Holy Mother, Bob. She is highly respected and loved in Eastern Orthodoxy. We celebrate her in prayer especially when the Church gathers together. I appreciate how you highlight her here.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing some of Mary's story, Bob. I had intended to write from her point of view as well, but then I did nothing. Well done!
ReplyDelete