A while back I got to thinking about what had to be going on in the mind of Joseph at the time Jesus Christ was born. My thoughts led me to a poem. Merry Christmas to all.
The stable was a dirty place,
When the couple came inside,
Though Mary did not notice much,
She was weary from the ride.
Joseph tried to clean up some,
He swept the cold, hard ground,
And spread about some fresher straw,
And laid a blanket down,
And chased away the pesky hens,
And tethered up the mule,
And put the cow into a pen,
And found himself a stool.
I can’t believe, tired Joseph thought,
As he surveyed the scene,
The child of God, Immanuel,
Can’t have someplace that’s clean.
Mary lay upon the ground,
And moaned with every pain,
And also wondered how a king,
Could come from one so plain.
But come he would, this very night,
The labor pains came faster,
Joseph prayed it would go well,
But he expected a disaster.
No bed, no nurse, no medicine,
No midwife or physician,
How could they parent any child,
From so bankrupt a position?
The moment came and Mary pushed,
And Joseph stretched his hand,
And pulled the slippery Son of God,
Into the world of man.
The doubt returned from time to time,
And fear would stab their hearts,
But faith would yield a greater strength
So they could do their parts,
Of nurturing the Way, the Truth
The Life and Light of Men,
Who opened up the door of grace
And freed us from all sin.
That God so loved the world at all
Is mystery unsurpassing,
That He loved enough to die,
Is a gift that’s everlasting.
And that He trusted simple men,
And peasant teenage Mary,
To hear and know and understand
Is most extraordinary.
And He trusts us to hear and know,
And follow Him together,
And do His work and share His love,
And dwell with Him forever.
The stable was a dirty place,
When the couple came inside,
Though Mary did not notice much,
She was weary from the ride.
Joseph tried to clean up some,
He swept the cold, hard ground,
And spread about some fresher straw,
And laid a blanket down,
And chased away the pesky hens,
And tethered up the mule,
And put the cow into a pen,
And found himself a stool.
I can’t believe, tired Joseph thought,
As he surveyed the scene,
The child of God, Immanuel,
Can’t have someplace that’s clean.
Mary lay upon the ground,
And moaned with every pain,
And also wondered how a king,
Could come from one so plain.
But come he would, this very night,
The labor pains came faster,
Joseph prayed it would go well,
But he expected a disaster.
No bed, no nurse, no medicine,
No midwife or physician,
How could they parent any child,
From so bankrupt a position?
The moment came and Mary pushed,
And Joseph stretched his hand,
And pulled the slippery Son of God,
Into the world of man.
The doubt returned from time to time,
And fear would stab their hearts,
But faith would yield a greater strength
So they could do their parts,
Of nurturing the Way, the Truth
The Life and Light of Men,
Who opened up the door of grace
And freed us from all sin.
That God so loved the world at all
Is mystery unsurpassing,
That He loved enough to die,
Is a gift that’s everlasting.
And that He trusted simple men,
And peasant teenage Mary,
To hear and know and understand
Is most extraordinary.
And He trusts us to hear and know,
And follow Him together,
And do His work and share His love,
And dwell with Him forever.
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