He has His Father's eyes

   She doubled over in pain, her hand pushed into her lower back.
   'Please, Mary. Ride on the donkey. If you keep walking you'll have the baby beside the road.'
   'The donkey's back is so hard.'
   Joseph rummaged in his bag and pulled out another coat. Folding it, he placed it on the donkey's back and lifted his wife. 'I'll walk beside you. Lean on me, but lets keep moving.'
   Can you imagine trying to sit on a donkey when in the early stages of labour? I guess the discomfort took her mind off the baby. She must have had so many questions.
   Her baby was a boy, she was sure of that. But what would the son of God look like? Would he look like her or like his Father? And what did his Father look like? She had never seen God. Yes, the angel said God would overshadow her and she would become pregnant, but my guess is she didn't even know when that had happened, much less get a glimpse of the baby's Father.
   So when the Son of God emerged from her womb into the smelly stable, like any mother, she must have grabbed him and studied him carefully. Not to count fingers and toes, but to see...to see God. Mary was the first person to come face to face with God. I can imagine her gazing with awe and wonder. 
   And then he opened His eyes. She connected with the King of Kings, not body to body but soul to soul, spirit to Spirit. It took her breathe away.
   'He has His Father's eyes.' 
   Joseph looked over her shoulder at the baby. 'What do you mean?'
   'His eyes. They are so deep, pure, clear. It's like he looked into my very heart and I could see into His heart. Never before have I seen such love. Oh, He is the Son of God!'
   Her baby squirmed and she lifted him to her breast. He latched onto her nipple and sucked. 'He loves me, Joseph. I saw it in His eyes. He loves me.'
   'The angel told me that he would save the people from their sins.' Joseph stroked the cheek of the feeding infant. 'I guess He loves everyone, Mary, everyone.'
   The moment was broken by a slight tap on the wall of the stable. 'There He is. Just as the angels said.' The shepherds were panting hard. 'Sorry Ma'am, we ran all the way. Did you know your baby is the Messiah?'
   Baby Jesus stirred and opened His eyes.
   Mary pulled back the cloths so the shepherds could see. 'I know. Look. He has His Father's eye's - eyes of love.'

Christmas is coming, ready or not!

   I did it. I have pulled my head out of the sand and faced the fact. Christmas is nearly here.
It's not that I don't like Christmas. I'm not ready. They must be scheduling it twice a year now. It was only the other day that I pulled the tree down and stored it in the shed. Now there are voices everywhere demanding its return to my living room.
   Santa arrived at our local Westfield store about two weeks ago. I know that because my granddaughters were two of the elves that escorted him, along with a strange mix of animals, into the centre. I can understand Santa wanting to escape from his exile at the North Pole, but his timing is affecting all of us.
   My gift cupboard isn't ready for Christmas. Nor is my pantry. My daughter-in-law has been asking where we are gathering for the celebrations. I have been  plugging my fingers in my ears and singing, 'lalal alala,' very loudly.

   However, yesterday I was briefly inspired. I pulled down my book display and replaced it with Christmas decorations. I even added three pieces of tinsel to the house. The plan is to add a little bit more each day so that I ease into the season gently.
   Today I placed my little nativity figurines in front of my fireplace. Even though baby Jesus is already in the feeding trough, but I began thinking about Mary walking to Bethlehem carrying her unborn baby. And as a grandmother, I've been thinking about Mary's Mum and Joseph's Mum. I wonder how those grandmas were feeling as they waited for the pending birth. I sympathise with them. My guess is the community of Nazareth didn't buy the angel story. I can hear the women outside the synagogue whispering now. 
   'That's the worst excuse I've ever heard for turning up at your wedding, large with child! I hear she says its God's son. Blasphemy! She should have been stoned! I don't know what Joseph is thinking! He should have demanded her punishment  Oh! Don't give me that story about an angel in a dream. God stopped speaking four hundred years ago. Disgusting it is...'

    Being a grandma is a wonderful experience, unless the baby is out of timing, or something goes wrong. This whole episode must have seemed like a nightmare to these Grandmothers who were part of the earthly family chosen as to raise the Son of God. I wonder did they understand, or were they so consumed by the sorrow surrounding the illegitimate child they couldn't hear the story their children were telling?
   There would have been many who judged Mary and Joseph, not knowing, or being willing to accept the truth. I'm sure our Lord's family suffered gossip and rejection for years.
    Today, as I place my little Mary and Joseph beside the crib, I'm challenged again. How often do I judge others without understanding their full story?What if I poured contempt on someone when, in truth, it was God doing something unusual in an unexpected way? 
    Pausing, I realise I'm closer to the Christmas spirit than I thought. Maybe I'll go and play, 'Joy to the World.'