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NOTE: This is the last of four short stories i am posting this Advent season about the incarnational birth of Jesus. They are fictional first-person accounts of the prophecies and events surrounding the advent of Jesus. Some of the characters and details contained therein are fictional, but you will find the truth they convey to be very REAL! My prayer is that through the stories you are reminded of the Good News of Advent this Christmas season.
The stories include:
Gabriel – the angel (December 1)
Zechariah – the priest (December 8)
Elizabeth – the cousin (December 15)
Anna – the prophetess (This week - December 22)
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I am Anna, considered by some to be a prophetess – which means God has granted me the gift of hearing His voice and speaking His Word. In many respects, it is more of a responsibility than a gift. Long ago, God showed me I was to speak the message He gave me to the person He wanted to receive it – regardless of how that person reacted.
I grew up in the city of Hebron. While I was still very young, my father, Phanuel the Asherite, entered into an agreement with Abdiel the Levite for me to marry his son Menachem. My parents were already old when my mother gave birth to me, so they wanted to be certain that my future was secure.
Menachem was several years older than I was and already a priest of the division of Abijah, just like his father. We married when I was fourteen years old. And from that first day, there was never any doubt that Menachem loved me. But he also showed me that he loved God with all of his heart. And he taught me how to love God with all of my heart, soul, and mind. Those were not just words to him – he lived them out!
My mother gave me a white tunic she had woven in one piece without any seams for a wedding present. It was the most beautiful garment I had ever seen. “Anna,” my mother said, “this robe is for your firstborn son. Wrap him in it as a child, then preserve it and give it to him when he becomes a man.” That precious gift became my most prized possession, and I looked forward to the day I would wrap my son in it.
But in the sovereignty of God, I never bore a child. My only regret in my marriage to Menachem was that I never gave him a son to carry on his name. But Menachem was always gracious. He often reminded me that we would trust God and rest in the peace of His plan for our lives. Our love for Him and for one another filled our hearts and kept them from aching for the child we would never have.
We journeyed to Jerusalem multiple times each year for Menachem to serve in the temple. Each division of priests served in the temple for two one-week periods every year, as well as during our three major annual feasts of Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles. The priests were to offer daily sacrifices and to convey priestly blessings.
Menachem counted it an honor and a privilege to stand before God on behalf of the people. He loved his Lord. He loved his wife. And he loved his work. He was greatly encouraged when his brother Zechariah began to sense God’s calling to also serve as a priest. Though Zechariah was fifteen years younger than Menachem, my husband looked forward to mentoring and training his brother. Our life was filled with joy and purpose. I could not imagine anything better.
Menachem lived each day believing it might be the day of the Messiah’s coming. He not only knew and believed the prophecies, he looked forward to them through eyes of faith. And he taught me to do the same. I came to believe that God would grant me the opportunity to see the arrival of His Son with my own eyes. We didn’t know how or when, but we believed the time was drawing near.
When we had been married about seven years, we went to Jerusalem again for a time of service. This occasion was particularly significant to Menachem. He had been selected to present the offering of incense on the altar in the sanctuary. It was a rare privilege and one he was looking forward to later in the week.
We were staying in one of the small chamber apartments reserved for priests in the outer courts. Menachem usually woke up before I did, so I was surprised to see he was still fast asleep that morning. He did not even stir once I began moving about our small room. When I went over to wake him, he was cold to my touch. I quickly realized he was not breathing.
My husband had peacefully died in his sleep. I called out to the other priests and their wives in the adjoining apartments. They quickly came to comfort me and attend to Menachem’s body. I was so grateful for their care and compassion; they even took care of all of the arrangements.
My husband had not been ill. We had been planning for a day of ministry at the temple. Little had I known when I lay down to sleep the night before that I would bury my husband the next day. Though we had been scheduled to only use the apartment until the end of the week, the High Priest Aristobulus II told me I could stay as long as I needed.
I was a twenty-one-year-old widow, not much more than a child myself. My parents had died soon after Menachem and I were married, so returning to their home was not an option. However, I was blessed by the way so many ministered to me and attended to my needs.
Seven days following my husband’s death, I sensed the angel of the Lord speaking to me in a dream that night. “Anna, thus saith the Lord, ‘I am the God of your fathers, and I am your God. I know the plans I have for you; plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.(1) I have known you since long before your mother gave birth to you. I gave you to your husband, and him to you, that you may know and experience the fullness of My love for you.
‘I have placed within your heart an earnest expectancy for the coming of My Son. You will be a part of His story when He comes, and I will be with you all along the way. I will never leave you nor forsake you. You are not to remarry. Rather, draw close to Me and look to Me. I will be your comfort, your strength, your provision, and your peace. Serve Me here in My temple, ministering to those I bring to you. Worship Me with prayer and fasting. Listen to My voice and speak My words. Admonish each one I bring you to look forward to the day of the arrival of My Son. One day you will see Him. In the meantime, minister to each one I bring to you as if they were My Son.’”
I awoke the next morning with confidence. Mine was not to be a life of sorrow or regret but rather a life of devotion and unshakeable hope! I sought out the High Priest and told him what the angel of the Lord had told me. The High Priest said I could remain as a caretaker in the temple as the Lord had instructed me. In the six decades since, eight high priests have followed, and by the grace of God, each one has affirmed his support and my calling from the Lord.
In the years that followed, the temple was reconstructed and restored. The city of Jerusalem was conquered by the Romans and placed under their control. The city grew in size and splendor, and the number of people coming to the temple increased every year.
When some hear my story, they ask me why I did not remarry. I tell them because God told me not to. But I also share what else He told me – including to expect the arrival of the Messiah. I encourage them to watch faithfully and hopefully!
I have seen many widows neglected and exploited. Most, particularly those without children, have lived a life of poverty. But God kept His promise. He provided for me and cared for me – and has given me an unending joy. I still miss Menachem, but my Lord has been my close companion.
Menachem’s brother Zechariah did become a priest. He later married a young woman by the name of Elizabeth who, as it turns out, was born on the very day my husband died. Over the years, I have watched God’s faithfulness to them. And then, just a little over seven months ago – despite their advanced age – God blessed Elizabeth’s barren womb by giving them a son.
Elizabeth confided to me that their son John is the one God has chosen to prepare the way for the coming Messiah. I saw them and their newborn son when they came to the temple to present their offering of redemption. My heart leapt, knowing that I will soon see the Son of God!
A friend of mine by the name of Simeon comes to the temple every day to wait expectantly for the Messiah. He watches every male child who is presented. He is now one hundred thirteen years old and has been waiting and watching for most of his life. I am eighty-four years old – but compared to him I am a youngster!
Then, this morning it happened! As I was walking through the temple, I noticed a young couple enter with their boy child. For some reason, my eye was drawn to them. The young woman, not much more than a child herself, was beautiful. Her husband walked beside her, paying close attention to her and their son. I was struck by his tenderness and humility. He reminded me of Menachem. I had seen many such tender arrivals at the temple over the years – but this one stood out.
I watched from a distance as they presented their offering to the priest. Then I heard the priest speak his words of blessing over the child. I continued watching as the man and woman lingered in the temple before turning to exit. Just then I saw Simeon approach them.
But today, he didn’t just look at the child and walk away. Tears were streaming down his face as he spoke with the man and the young mother. Then he placed his hand on the baby’s head and spoke a blessing over Him. The mother and father watched and listened intently. As I looked at Simeon – and then at the child – I knew the Messiah had come!
God’s timing is perfect! He had ordered my every step throughout my lifetime. He had allowed me to watch as He ordered the steps of those around me. Even the way He had ordered Menachem’s steps – and his days. Now, He had ordered my steps this very day to witness the arrival of this family. I walked over and joined them in worship and praise of the one true God – the One who had ordered all of our steps from before the beginning of time.
The young mother graciously permitted me to hold the child. I spoke words of praise and blessing over Him. In my heart, I was that twenty-one-year-old, single woman who had been excitedly awaiting the arrival of the Messiah. And now, I was holding Him in my arms.
The young mother told me her story about the angel and what he had said. She told me about the shepherds and the magi. Her husband told me about the vision he had received in a dream that this child was the Son of God. But he also told me of a dream he had just the night before.
An angel of the Lord had appeared to him in that dream and said, “Rise, take the Child and His mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the Child to destroy Him.”(2)
The child’s father told me they were departing that very hour as God had instructed. He did not know where they would go in Egypt, but they would walk by faith. Jehovah God had ordered their every step in the advent of His Son – and He would continue to do so.
As I stood there with the child and His parents, I realized there was something I needed to do. I asked them to wait while I returned to my chamber and retrieved my most prized possession. As I handed the gift to the young mother, I said, “Wrap Him in this tunic and use it to keep Him warm. Then one day when He becomes a Man, give it to Him and tell Him about this day.” His mother smiled at me sweetly and promised that she would.
I watched them leave the temple, and I knew I would never see them again – at least not in this life. But I looked to heaven and thanked God for His faithfulness and for this precious little One – the One who would save His people.
Little did I know how that salvation would come about, or how that seamless tunic would one day be a part of the story of my Savior’s sacrificial love for us all.
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This story is taken from Little Did We Know, a collection of twenty-five stories for the Advent season. The book is 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.
You can listen to the audiobook version of this story by tuning into this week’s episode of my podcast by CLICKING HERE.
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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)Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
(2)Matthew 2:13 (ESV)
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