NOTE: Starting last week and for the four subsequent weeks, i am posting a total of five short stories surrounding the incarnational birth of Jesus. These stories are fictional first-person accounts of the prophecies and events surrounding the advent of Jesus. Some of the characters and details are fictional, but you will find the truth they convey to be very REAL! My prayer is that, through the telling, you are reminded of the Good News of Advent this Christmas season. To that end, let’s look at the account through the eyes of five very different individuals:
Mary – the virgin (November 18)
Eli – the father of Mary (This week – November 25)
Miriam – the hostess (December 2)
Sarah – the granddaughter of Miriam (December 9)
Levi – the rabbi in Bethlehem (December 16)
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My name is Eli, and I am the son of Matthat of the line of King David from the tribe of Judah. I am a carpenter in the town of Nazareth. I learned my trade working alongside my father, just as he learned working alongside his father.
As a carpenter, I build the storage buildings and presses needed to process the crops produced in the hills surrounding our home. I exploit the soft limestone of the region to build storage basements for the oil and wine pressed from our olive and grape harvests. I am quite adept in excavating and crafting our structures using the natural limestone available.
My father and I had almost finished excavating a storage basement in the base of a hill on the south side of town. My father was inside the basement doing some of the finishing work when the ceiling collapsed. The basement was immediately filled with falling rock and debris … and my mother instantly became a widow.
I was an only child, so I became the patriarch of our family that day – assuming responsibility for my mother. Then, about one year later, I married a young woman by the name of Abigail. There was no question she stole my heart from the moment I first saw her. Her name means “gives joy” – and joy certainly returned to our home the day she and I wed.
With the death of my father, I needed to find a fellow carpenter with whom I could partner. A carpenter name Joseph had recently arrived in our town. He had moved here from nearby Cana because he had heard work was available. He seemed like an able fellow, so I approached him about working together.
He and his wife, Rebekah, became good friends to Abigail and me. We had similar natures. We shared a passion for God and a desire to serve Him wholeheartedly. When Abigail and I learned that we were expecting a child, they were the first people we told. We knew their hearts rejoiced with us – even though we also knew they longed to have children of their own.
Our little Mary entered into this world about eight months later. From the day she was born, she was a precious gift to her mother and me. I looked forward to the end of each workday so I could be home with my girls – my wife, my mother, and now my daughter. I regretted that my father had never known little Mary – he would have been as besotted with her as I was.
By the time she was four, she would plead with me to bring her along to work. She told me she wanted to be a carpenter just like me. Gratefully, Abigail was there to nurture Mary into becoming a proper little girl. But Abigail would still often lovingly warn me not to spoil Mary. Though she always did so with a smile, I knew there was good counsel in those words.
As Mary grew, she demonstrated a deep-seated and sincere love for Jehovah God. I couldn’t imagine a happier life than we were enjoying.
However, one day that happiness was shattered when my precious Abigail died. Joseph and I were working on the north side of town when Rebekah brought me the news that Abigail had fallen ill, and I was needed at home. Abigail was already dead by the time I arrived. There had been no warning and no indication she was sick. God had suddenly taken her home.
My greatest comfort through those difficult days was my nine-year-old daughter. Though we tried to comfort one another, I knew she did a better job of comforting me than I did of her. In many respects, it caused her to quickly mature beyond her years. Despite my attempts to allow her to still be a child, she became the young “woman” of the house – caring for both me and my mother.
Joseph was also a great strength to me as I walked through those difficult days. Sadly, it wasn’t long after that I was called on to be his strength. Rebekah fell ill with a fever that could not be abated, and one week later she died. Mary and I did the best we could to comfort Joseph, but with our own loss being so recent, we mostly just grieved together.
When Mary was twelve, my mother died. It was another season of sorrow that we walked through together. But just before she died, my mother had challenged me that one day soon I needed to make arrangements for Mary to be wed. She encouraged me to pray and ask Jehovah God to show me what He would have me do. And that is what I did for the next couple of years.
One day, Joseph and I were again working together as we often did. Somehow our conversation steered toward a discussion of whether either one of us would ever marry again. As he spoke, I sensed a longing in his heart.
Later that night after we parted company, I began to wonder if he and Mary would be a good match. There was a great age difference between them. He was just a few years younger than I was! But he was a kind man – gentle, hardworking, and godly. I knew I would never find a man of any age whom I could trust more to care for my daughter, to love her, and to provide for her. And Mary had become far more mature than her years.
I continued to ponder and pray about the possibility for several months. Then late one afternoon, I approached Joseph with the idea. I wanted to talk to him first and see if he was agreeable before I talked to Mary. I would not force any marriage on her. I just wanted God’s best for her.
Joseph was taken by surprise when I approached him. “Surely you can find a much better match for Mary,” he said. “Someone who is closer in age with whom she can live a long and happy life.”
“I believe I know you as well as I know any man,” I responded. “We have walked together through sorrow and joy. We have worked together, and we have played together. Most importantly, we have prayed together. I have seen your heart – and you have the heart of a man I want for my daughter. And you have the heart that my daughter wants in a husband. Don’t give me an answer now. Pray to Jehovah God and consider what He would have you do. And then we will talk again.”
He agreed to do so. Several days later, he came back to me with his answer. He would marry her – but only if Mary was certain she wanted to marry him. He would not enter into any marriage agreement if she had reservations.
So, I set off to speak with Mary. I was surprised by her reaction. The concerns she expressed were mostly her apprehension about leaving me alone. The idea of marriage to Joseph was not displeasing to her. I told her that Joseph wanted to be certain that she didn’t have any reservations. As I expected, she told me she would pray and seek direction from Jehovah God.
Within a matter of days, she gave me her answer and in early December I proudly announced the betrothal of my daughter to Joseph the carpenter. We had agreed the marriage feast would take place on the same day the following December. Our neighbors all extended their well-wishes and Mary, Joseph, and I were joyful that God was ordering our steps.
About a month later, Mary told me that a messenger had delivered the news that our cousin Elizabeth was expecting a child. Elizabeth is quite a bit older than I am. She and her husband, Zechariah, were both in their old age – and they had no children. So, this was quite a miracle! Mary told me she needed to go to Hebron to be of help to her. I knew the companionship would be a blessing to Elizabeth – and I also knew it would be good for Mary.
Earlier that day, I had encountered a group of merchants who were departing for Hebron the next day. It appeared that Jehovah God had already made the arrangements for Mary to make the trip! She departed the next morning.
I will confess that my home was very empty for the next three months. I missed Mary. Her absence left a great void in our home. But I also knew it was good preparation for me for the future.
The Passover Feast was approaching, so Joseph and I made plans to go to Jerusalem together. Passover is always a good opportunity to catch up with family members we don’t regularly see. It is a great occasion for thankfulness to Jehovah God and celebration with family.
When we arrived at the temple, I sought out my cousin Zechariah to find out how Elizabeth and Mary were doing. I knew he would be pressed by his priestly responsibilities, but I was confident we could find a moment to speak. However, when I did catch up with him, I was alarmed to discover that he was mute.
He communicated with me through gestures and a few words written quickly on a tablet he carried for that purpose. He conveyed that he and Elizabeth were overjoyed to be expecting a son. I rejoiced with him over the news. He expressed their gratitude for Mary’s visit, and the great help and companionship she was providing to Elizabeth.
It seemed his muteness had something to do with his time in the sanctuary – but I couldn’t fully understand what he was trying to tell me. I was confident Mary would fill me in on the details when she returned home. He indicated that he needed to proceed to the sacrificial altar, so we hastily said our farewells.
Later that day, Joseph introduced me to his cousin Achim, and his wife, Miriam. They lived nearby in Bethlehem. Joseph delightedly told them about his engagement to my daughter and that he looked forward to introducing her to them next Passover. Good wishes were expressed all around before we went our separate ways. Our time in Jerusalem went by quickly and we soon returned to Nazareth – and to my empty home.
A few weeks later, Mary returned! Joseph was there with me in our home and we were both overjoyed! My home lit up when she arrived!
Immediately she told us the news from Hebron, including Zechariah’s encounter with an angel. We could not contain our excitement over the news about the coming Messiah or the role Zechariah and Elizabeth’s son would play in preparing the way. God had truly blessed them! And with the announcement about the Messiah, He had truly blessed all of us!
But then, Mary’s story took a surprising turn. Apparently, she, too, had been visited by an angel – here in Nazareth – the day before she left for Hebron. She had waited three months to tell me what He said. And she was now bearing a child – the Son of the Most High God. The Holy Spirit had “come upon her.” What exactly did that mean? The Messiah, whose arrival we were all anticipating, was inside the womb of my daughter! And she hadn’t told me!
It was a lot to take in. I looked at Joseph and he looked at me. We both looked at Mary. I didn’t know how to respond. I needed to compose my thoughts and pray. I decided the best thing I could do was get alone with God. I was flooded with emotion. And I did not want emotion to control what I said. So, I did the only thing I knew to do – I walked out of the house. I noticed Joseph was right behind me, but I didn’t want to talk to Joseph. I wanted to talk to God.
I know I hurt Mary by abruptly walking out, but I didn’t know what else to do. I made my way to the vineyard to walk and talk with God.
In the vineyard, a peace came over me. First, I knew Mary. And I knew everything she ever told me was true. I knew that if she told me, then an angel had come to her. If she was pregnant, then the Spirit of God had come upon her! As I thought about how a virgin could conceive a child, I was immediately reminded of the words of the prophet Isaiah:
“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son,
and shall call His name Immanuel.”(1)
Nothing was too difficult for God. And by His grace, He had selected my daughter – Abigail’s daughter – to be the mother of His Son!
Why had she waited to tell me? I could only imagine how this news had overwhelmed her. This was a lot for a fifteen-year-old to take in! And she had done so with grace. Then wisely, she had gone to see Elizabeth to seek confirmation.
The momentary hurt I felt because she had kept this news from me faded away and was replaced with great pride. Pride in who my daughter had become, and pride that God thought even more highly of my daughter than I did.
With that, I ran back home and embraced Mary.
I knew the road ahead would be difficult for her – but for now I just wanted to rejoice with her! And I wanted her to know that I loved her!
Little did I know how Joseph would respond. Little did I know how our friends and neighbors would respond. Little did I know what it would mean to be the mother of the Son of the Most High God! But I knew that the One who had so ordered her steps would continue to do so.
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This story is excerpted from Little Did We Know. The complete book of twenty-five stories is now available through Amazon in standard print, large print, for your e-reader, and as an audiobook. Click HERE for more information on how you can obtain your copy.
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In multiple instances the dialogue in this story comes directly from Scripture. Whenever i am quoting Scripture, it has been italicized. The Scripture references are as follows:
(1) Isaiah 7:14 (ESV)
Copyright © 2020 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.
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