My little boy stretches his spindly arms above his head and yawns. I love to watch him make funny faces, especially when he turns them into a grin. Joe says itís only gas but I believe with all my heart that Jesse smiles at me. I know this little being, my first-born, is extraordinary. A mother understands these things.
Not only is he special to me, but will be to our whole Jewish nation. An angel told me, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.Ē (1)
Every girl thought she would be the one to carry the Messiah, but I never once entertained the thought. I was in love with my Joseph and cared little for the politics of our time. You can imagine my astonishment at the news.
Because Jesse is the Son of God, our way has been dangerous. We must pick up and move when Joseph dreams of things to come. It seems ages since the angel spoke to Joe. So much life and death have happened since then. My heart breaks over and over again when I think of all the babies killed in Bethlehem. Death came to innocent little boys so that my boy could live. How the mothersí hearts must hurt.
My husband works and worries to keep us safe. I am secure in his decisions so I am able to relax and rest in his arms. My only job is to care for our tiny infant, our little one I nicknamed Jesse, but will be Jesus to the entire world; not only for this generation, but for ages and lifetimes to come. Indeed, this child is extraordinary.
Jesse gurgles as he roots at my breast. These are my favorite times of day. Just him and me together in this most tender of mother-baby moments. While I sit quietly, my mind wanders to the wonders that have happened to us. Words spoken over Jesse are amazing, yet at the same time I feel darkness cloud my heart. I fear for this child of ours.
The elderly man, Simeon, took Jesse in his arms and prayed. Our hearts swelled with pride at what he said but our joy was short-lived. People will not love him as I do. I canít think ahead so far, though. I will not. I want to remember my boy the way he is now; attached to my body; nourished and nurtured by me alone.
But alas, I canít stop the tears. They fall onto Jesseís face. He pulls away and looks up at me. I feel as if he is the adult and I the child. I am strangely comforted. He nestles back in to finish his dinner as if content that I will be fine. To think that I hold the key to salvation for all in my arms is a very strange concept, very strange indeed.
I lay my son against me and pat his back. He lets out a manly burp and I giggle. He reminds me of his daddy. I hold Jesse up in front of me and remember that Joe is not his father. My body begins to shake. So much I donít understand, and today I choose not to even try. I will be the best Mommy I can be and I will let his earthly Daddy teach him what a man should know. We will let His Heavenly Father take care of the rest.
I hold Jesse in my arms and rock him to sleep. For now, my extraordinary baby boy, my little Jesus, rests safely in my arms, and for that I am so very grateful.
1. Luke 1:30,32 (NIV)
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