Tower of the Flock, Part 2 – Joseph’s Story

Joseph’s story

Luke 2:1-6

My heart squeezed when I saw Mary sitting on a boulder on the outskirts of town. Her eyes were closed, pinched shut in pain. Her jaw clenched, stifling a moan.

My first memory of her flashed through my mind. Giggles filtered through the sycamore leaves overhead.  I looked up to see her legs dangling from a branch as she and my little sister gobbled ripe, juicy figs straight from the tree. My sister jostled her reaching for another fig, and Mary lost her balance. She fell into my arms. I had no idea then that it was only the first time I would hold her. But when the girl with the broad smile, bright eyes, and sticky fingers that smelled like figs and sunshine grew into a woman, I sought to make her mine.

The journey from Nazareth had been long and hard, but disappointment settled in only after our arrival in Bethlehem. After our first few failed attempts to find a place to stay, I’d left her to rest while I continued the hunt. I was returning a failure. And I was running out of time. The sun hung low in the western sky.

Since she hadn’t seen me yet, she wasn’t trying to hide her distress. She rubbed her swollen belly and then covered her head with her prayer shawl.

I would not fail my wife. She had met every challenge of our journey with courage and a smile. She trusted me. Why hadn’t I insisted we start our journey sooner? We both knew the Messiah needed to be born in Bethlehem. But I never dreamed it would be so hard to find a safe place for her to bring him into the world. For the thousandth time since we left Nazareth, I blasted the Romans for calling for a census. This normally sleepy town was bursting at the seams with people coming to register.

I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and prepared to apologize for not finding us a place to stay—yet.

“Oh, my love, I’m so sorry.” She had taken the words from my mouth. Her deep brown eyes swam with tears. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be welcomed into your family’s home with open arms.”

I kneeled before her and cupped her face in my hands.  “Mary, what are you saying? How is this your fault?”

Mary’s gaze slid away from me. Stifling a sob, she said quietly, “I saw how they looked at me. Bethlehem is certainly crowded, but if your family had confidence in me, they would find a place for us.”

I wanted to deny it. I wanted to comfort her, but lying wouldn’t help. Even I doubted her virtue until an angel set me straight. So I took her hands in mine and tried to pull another idea out of thin air.

She leaned her forehead against mine. “I was terrified and excited when the angel appeared to me, and of course I accepted his message with joy. Giving birth to the Messiah is what every girl dreams of.  But I grieve for the way your family has treated you. The way your cousin eyed me and then gave you a look of disgust, well, I wanted to give him a piece of my mind.”

I pulled back to look at her face. Her eyes flashed fire. I’d never known someone so loyal. Whatever we faced, we would face it together.

“But I held my tongue because I knew that’s what you would want. I can’t blame him for thinking I’ve played you for a fool.”

The angel’s words rang in my head. “Joseph, Son of David, don’t fear taking Mary as your wife.”

Joseph, Son of David. I’d been called that many times—as a taunt and an insult. I might be the legal heir to David’s throne, but the Jews were a conquered people. The respect in the angel’s tone changed my perspective. In the eyes of my fellow Jews, I was nothing but a bad joke. But in God’s eyes, I was the Son of David. And that gave me hope.

Mary’s gasp jolted me back to our current crisis. A wave of panic shot through me. “Is it time?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. But soon. My pains started this afternoon. And they’re getting stronger. And closer together.”

“Oh, Mary, we need to pray.” I bowed my head. “O Lord, Creator and King of All Creation, thank you for entrusting your Son to us. I know You’re going to provide the right place for Him to be born. Please lead us to it. Soon. And may it not be too far. If that’s not too much to ask.” Not an eloquent prayer, but sincere.

That’s it!

As soon as I opened my eyes, the answer was right in front of me. Literally. Migdal Eder, the ancient watchtower, gleamed like a beacon. It was perfect. I’d spent many hours playing there as a child.  That’s it.

The startled looks of several people on the road made me realize I’d spoken aloud. Embarrassed, I nodded at them and then turned back to my wife. “I know where we need to go.” I pointed to the tower. “It’s not the most comfortable accommodation, but it will be clean, warm, and dry. And the sheep are out in the fields, so it will be empty. It’s not lambing season.”

Mary’s lips twitched. “You’re taking me to a stable?” That was my girl. Resilient as the day was long.

Excitement coursed through me. “Yes, I am. It’s perfect. This isn’t any old stable. You know how pampered those sheep are. The Passover lambs are coddled like royalty. It will be cleaner, cozier, and quieter than any home in Bethlehem, you’ll see. And it’s not far.”

To be continued . . .