O, Come, O, Come, O, Come On, Willya?

   "Have a child," the angel told her. "Call His name Jesus. He will save His people from their sins."

   Pause.

  "That’s it?"

   Women get fired up, you know, even with angels, when children are involved.

   "I’ll show you some more of the story later," the angel said.

   Pause.

   "How much later?"

   Pause.

   "I’m not really sure. I haven’t heard."

   "Let me see if I have this straight. I have a betrothed but not a husband. You tell me to have a baby, even tell me His name and life work. Then, you tell me you’ll get back to me later with more details."

   "I do hear you are going to take a trip or two or three just before and just after the baby comes," he added, helpfully.

   "Good," she told him. "No husband, a baby and now travel around Palestine on a donkey."

  "I can only tell you," he finished, while fading from sight, "my Boss says it will all be worth it."

   "Well, we have that going for us," she thought out loud.

   "Oh, and don’t worry about Joseph," the angel said, suddenly flashing back into sight. "I’ll square all this with him."

   "Wait…" she cried.

   "Gotta run," he answered.

   She was going to need a mega-Quiet Time for this one.

   "I don’t know about all this," she prayed and something moved in her womb. At least, she thought something moved there, for she was inexperienced and could not be sure.

   "Why me?" came one question.

   "Why now?" she asked. "I have all this wedding planning to do."

   "Why this way?" she worried. "No one is going to believe me…or us…or you…"

   She thought and prayed and fretted and worried in the manner of women through the ages.

   "This is going to ruin me locally," she said, to no one in particular.

   "Maybe the trips will be a good thing," she told the air. "At least I won’t get stoned."

   She kept all she heard in her woman’s heart, deep and complex, with the usual pain and hope a woman knows and a man can only guess at.

   "Oh, I think we can make something good out of this whole dilemma," she determined.

   "For sure, He will have work," she thought, looking at the other sinners around her.

   "Lord in Heaven, God on earth, look at your handmaiden," she surrendered.

   Mary, did you know?

   And the whole Creation was blessed and Heaven filled with joy and Hell trembled at a little girl’s willingness to serve.

"Thanks, Mary.

Thanks, Joseph.

Before your Son could put His life on the line,

you two had to believe the incredible,

do the impossible

and put your lives in danger

from people who can count months

and a King who could figure odds in his head.

Thanks Mary,

Thanks Joseph.

Thanks, God."

   

One Response to O, Come, O, Come, O, Come On, Willya?

  1. Kenneth J. says:

    It is quite extraordinary when you step back and put a fresh set of eyes on the story the amount of insurmountable odds God had to overcome again and again and again. How blessed we are to have a Savior who loved us so much that all of the odds were overcome!

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