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Marilyn Friesen

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Saturday, November 22, 2014

Mary's Memories of the First Christmas

29 Nissan
April 21

Dear Diary;
With tears in my eyes I must admit this has been a low time for me.
My feeling of dwelling in heavenly places has faded to a rather forlorn
memory, and I am not well! After scattering a few kernels of corn to
our flock of chickens, I crept behind the goat-shed to be sick. It didn't relieve the queasiness much.


Four Shabbats have passed since the Shining One paid me a visit.
Nay, it is already six weeks. I am feeling so ill. I thought I had been able
to conceal my queasiness fairly well, but Imma has noticed me merely
picking at my food for the last several days. 

Knowing my mother the way I do, I am not at all surprised that she was concerned. She shooed
the little ones, Dorcas, and Naomi, off to play, and sent Hana on an
errand. 

Then we had the heart to heart talk I had been longing for. She
is just the kind of mother who takes to heart anything that affects the
lives of her loved ones, and wants to help them.

At first Imma was amazed when I told her I was with Child by
HaShem. Nay, astounded would be more the correct word. As I unfolded
the narrative, and she plied me with questions, her amazement turned
to delight, then holy wonder.

“Oh Mary’am, Mary’am,” she breathed. “How is it that El Shaddai
has considered our family worthy of such a high honor?” I think she
marveled more at the fact I had seen an angel than anything, at first,
and questioned me much about how the Heavenly Being looked. Then
she grew quiet and thoughtful as the reality of my condition began to
sink in.

“The Mother of the Mashiach,” she murmured in a hushed voice.
“Your father and I have sometimes discussed it, and in our longing
hoped it would come in our generation. But to us! How can it be
that Yahweh would choose us, and Nazareth would seem like such an
unworthy town,”—she gestured with her hands, and shrugged; 

“With all that high taxation going on, so many from here have left off making
an honest living, and have taken up banditry in order to put a morsel
of food in their children’s mouths.

Yet you are a virgin even as HaShem commanded!” She fell silent,
and straightened the tassels on the prayer shawl she was embroidering
with the Star of David. When she looked up to meet my gaze, I saw
that her gentle brown eyes were troubled.
“Oh Mary’am, we had never considered the implications,
before . . .”
My heart squeezed, and Imma slipped her hand into mine.

We were both silent. I am grateful that she never once implied that
I might have been unfaithful to Yosef. We have too close and sweet a
bond for such suspicions to arise. Besides, she knew as I do also, that
the Mashiach is supposed to be born of a virgin. 

Yosef is a man too God-conscious to rush things, and has carefully refrained from even
kissing me lest his passions would be unduly aroused. 

I am touched that Imma never once hinted that, that, well, perhaps . . . I don’t want
to even write it. It seems too shameful.

But sadly, others will not look upon it the way we do.

Even dear, kind Abba would have reason to be concerned. He knows
the strength of a man’s desires far more than I, in my innocence, could
ever imagine. He may even think I had been overtaken along some
shadowed lane! 

That is impossible, of course, because my Abba and
Imma have never allowed their daughters to be out alone after dark.

I am confident that Imma will have a tactful way of bringing the
glad tidings to Abba. It may take him awhile to come around, but
he has always been an understanding father, so surely he will believe.
Please, please may it be so.


30 Nissan
April 22nd

Dear Diary;
It’s eventide once again, and the room is growing dim.
The future looks so scary. How will I survive if Yosef puts me aside,
and chooses another? How can I face the stares, and snide remarks of
my associates? Perhaps my own father will forbid me to live at home
if Yosef convinces him I have been unfaithful. 

The law requires that a woman caught in adultery is even chased away, and stones are hurled
at her until she dies! But no, surely Yosef my Chavivi would never go
to that extreme! He loves me! I can tell that he does!

My thoughts are getting carried away. It is Yahweh’s Son that I am
carrying. He will surely take care of His own. Yea, it is Yahweh’s son, but
the mother is so human.

 El’ Elohim, I will try my best to trust in You
no matter what comes. I must fight these anxious thoughts. Oh Holy
God, forgive me for being so worried, and dispirited. Your precious
Son deserves someone more courageous than I to nurture Him in the
coming months and years, but since you deemed me worthy, I promise
to do my best.

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