The Room and The Birth

A full week had passed, but I still couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I heard the screams, saw the blood on my hands, and felt the hot tears rolling down my own cheeks. I would wake up sweating, wondering if the little family staying with us was alright.

When they arrived in town, they looked exhausted. They had completed their long journey from Nazareth to our home, traveling nearly 10,000 kilometers by foot and on donkeys. And now the time had come for her to have her baby. She wasn’t much older than me. She was a gentle and humble girl, so I was glad when my father told them they could stay with us wherever they could find space.

Joseph had knocked abruptly on our door soon after they had settled in. “I think the baby is coming.” He told my mother.

“Adah!” My mother called me to her side. “We will need warm water, cloth, and…” My mother kept listing items, but I had stopped listening. A baby was going to be born, how exciting! I thought to myself.

Mother and I spent that day coming in and out of the space where our guests were staying. Normally, our animals would have been in the cave, but my father said the couple could stay there since there was no other room for them. Many people were coming to our town to register themselves under the Roman Government for taxes as had been decreed.

“I will come and check on you soon, you are having contractions, but it is not time to push.” My mother was telling Mary as I entered the cave-like room with the supplies.

“Good Adah, good girl bringing these things. We will need them soon, but not yet. Come help your sisters make our meal.” Mother spoke to me and I nodded. I tried to catch a glimpse of Mary’s face. She seemed calm, but was breathing heavily. I wanted to stay and talk with her, but my mother snapped again for me to follow her into the house.

My mother continued to check on Mary throughout the day. Finally, the time came for the baby to be born. My mother called for me to assist her in the delivery. The room was already dark, having to be lit by candles. I avoided the animal excrement and walked to my mother’s side. I could tell Mary was crying, but she was gritting her teeth, trying to be strong.

“Push!” My mother commanded her and guided my hands to help hold Mary, but there was so much blood. “Breathe!” My mother said to the girl and I tried to look away. “Adah, pay attention!” My mother urged me. I looked back to see a baby emerging. I wanted to throw up, but I didn’t dare think of moving. Mary’s screams were awful. She must’ve been in such pain. It seemed like such a sacrifice to give life to this world.

One of my older sisters had heard the screaming and rushed in to take my place at Mary’s feet beside our mother. Mary then reached out for my arm. She grabbed it. Still screaming and crying. She was so obedient to my mother’s commands, even though it caused her such pain. As I watched her, I cried with her. Then I heard a different cry. The cry of a baby. My mother was no longer yelling commands, Mary was no longer screaming, instead my mother was handing her her firstborn. A son, he was finally with us!

Emmanuel

My mother sent me away later that night to collect more cloths and food for our guests. I stumbled into my friend Isaac on the street as I was on my way and I took him to see the baby. This was the most exciting thing to ever happen to me. I wanted everyone to know about it; however, many of them had already heard about the angels appearing to the shepherds.

Another night, unable to sleep, I got up and tiptoed out to where the little family was staying. I could hear the mother’s voice soothing the crying baby. I turned to leave, but she stopped me.

“Adah, if you can’t sleep, come sit with me.” She motioned me over to the bale of hay she was sitting on. Her husband slept snoring in the corner. I wanted to ask about the baby. I wanted to know if she knew what people were saying about him, I wanted to know what she believed, did she think that she was really the Mother of God? But how could I ask a sleep deprived teenager I had only met a week ago about all of these things? So I sat quietly, playing with hay.

She hummed a song that I had loved as a child. We sang it in the temple. It was a song that Hannah had sung to God when she was told that she would give birth to Samuel. It came after years and years of desperation begging God to see her, but the Lord had always been with her. It talked of rejoicing in God’s love and His might. It spoke of Lord’s love for those who are humble before Him and it talked of His faithfulness through all generations.

“I like that one.” I told her.

“Me too.” She looked deep in thought. “This is a song I will always treasure.” She told me.

“What do you mean by that? How can you treasure it?”

She considered my question and then spoke, “I will think of it often, and every time I think of it, my thoughts will be good and my heart will be glad.”

“What else do you treasure?” I asked her. She looked down at her baby now sleeping and she smiled.

“I treasure what the Lord’s messenger told me.”

“An angel came to you too?” I asked her.

“Yes, to tell me I was pregnant. I wouldn’t have known otherwise.”

“Because you have never been with a man?” She nodded, blushing.

“Were you scared?”

“I was terrified. I’ve never seen anything so terrible, so incredible, so…” She trailed off trying to think of the right words, Joseph’s snoring filled the silence. “The first thing he said to me was that God was with me. God was with me! A little girl from Nazarath. God was present with me! By His grace, He chose me.”

“But you were still afraid?”

“Yes, but he assured me that God was showing me grace, otherwise I imagine I would’ve died right then and there in the presence of the angel Gabriel.”

I tried to imagine Izzy out in the field when he saw the army of angels. I knew he must’ve been terrified, but when I saw him he had just seemed excited.

“So Gabriel told you you were going to be pregnant.”

“He told me much more than that.” She brushed the dark cheek of the baby who was starting to stir. “He told me that I would have a son.”

“And you did!”

She nodded. “He told me we were to call him ‘God Saves’.”

I got chills as she said his name.

“And you did!”

“He told me that the baby would grow to be great and would be called the Son of the Most High. That God would give him old King David’s throne and that His Kingdom and rule will have no end.”

“Oh…” I exclaimed, and asked: “Well, will he, do you think?” Perhaps it was too bold a question, but Mary did not seem to mind it.

“I’ve experienced Emmanuel, God with me, so much in the last 9 months that I can’t begin to doubt Him now.” The baby started crying. Mary started to sing the song again, only this time the words weren’t Hannah’s, they were her own.

“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is his name.” She continued her song of praise to God saying as Hannah did that God is faithful to all generations, that He remembers His people. He feeds them, protects them, and cares for them like a great shepherd.

When she finished the song she looked tired, so I said goodnight and went back to my bed. Now, when I closed my eyes I thought of what kind of King this Jesus would be. Would there be more tears, sacrifices, or blood? I didn’t know. But I had heard the stories passed down from older women like Anna and Abigail, I had heard Izzy and the other shepherds’ stories, and tonight I had heard Mary’s story. All of the stories seemed to point to one thing: our Great God had come down to earth to be with us.

Emmanuel