What must Jospeh have been thinking?

Two weeks ago our church had a Christmas program.

The WHOLE family went and the program was really nice.

Their was one scene in particular that REALLY spoke to me.

I found myself with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes listening and watching it.

The scene was about what Joseph must have been thinking/feeling and praying while Mary was in labor.

It struck me because I have often times found myself saying (and I have said it on this blog more times than I can count):

"THIS IS NOT WHAT I HAD PLANNED"!!!

I think in ALL of our lives we can look back and see times when we desperately wanted God to come down and explain himself. Many times I would have given my right arm if he could just come down and say "Patricia, this is happening because XYZ". I have learned (and am still learning and MUST remind myself a million times a day) that sometimes we just have to have blind faith and believe that there is a plan. I may not be able to see it, touch it, feel it or even understand it....but that is what having faith is all about.

I was thinking about what to blog on this Christmas Eve and it hit me that I needed to somehow find that "Joseph's Prayer" . I didn't have to look long, I found it almost immediately.

I hope you all are ministered to by it and enjoy it as much as I did.

Joseph's Prayer

What was he thinking while Jesus was being born? What was on his mind while Mary was giving birth? He'd done all he could do-heated the water, prepared a place for Mary to lie. He'd made Mary as comfortable as she could be in a barn and then he stepped out. She'd asked to be alone, and Joseph has never felt more so.

In that eternity between his wife's dismissal and Jesus' arrival, what was he thinking? He walked into the night and looked into the stars. Did he pray?

For some reason, I don't see him silent; I see Joseph animated, pacing. Head shaking one minute, fist shaking the next. This isn't what he had in mind. I wonder what he said . . .

This isn't the way I planned it, God. Not at all. My child being born in a stable? This isn't the way I thought it would be. A cave with sheep and donkeys, hay and straw? My wife giving birth with only the stars to hear her pain?

This isn't at all what I imagined. No, I imagined family. I imagined grandmothers. I imagined neighbors clustered outside the door and friends standing at my side. I imagined the house erupting with the first cry of the infant. Slaps on the back. Loud laughter. Jubilation.

That's how I thought it would be.

The midwife would hand me my child and all the people would applaud. Mary would rest and we would celebrate. All of Nazareth would celebrate.

But now. Now look. Nazareth is five days' journey away. And here we are in a . . . in a sheep pasture. Who will celebrate with us? The sheep?

The shepherds? The stars?

This doesn't seem right. What kind of husband am I? I provide no midwife to aid my wife. No bed to rest her back. Her pillow is a blanket from my donkey. My house for her is a shed of hay and straw.

The smell is bad, the animals are loud. Why, I even smell like a shepherd myself.

Did I miss something? Did I, God?

When you sent the angel and spoke of the son being born - this isn't what I pictured. I envisioned Jerusalem, the temple, the priests, and the people gathered to watch. A pageant perhaps. A parade. A banquet at least. I mean, this is the Messiah!

Or, if not born in Jerusalem, how about Nazareth? Wouldn't Nazareth have been better? At least there I have my house and my business. Out here, what do I have? A weary mule, a stack of firewood, and a pot of warm water. This is not the way I wanted it to be! This is not the way I wanted my son.

Oh my, I did it again. I did it again, didn't I, Father? I don't mean to do that; it's just that I forget. He's not my son . . . he's yours.

The child is yours. The plan is yours. The idea is yours. And forgive me for asking but . . . is this how God enters the world? The coming of the angel, I've accepted. The questions people asked about the pregnancy, I can tolerate. The trip to Bethlehem, fine. But why a birth in a stable, God?

Any minute now Mary will give birth. Not to a child, but to the Messiah.

Not to an infant, but to God. That's what the angel said. That's what Mary believes. And, God, my God, that's what I want to believe. But surely you can understand; it's not easy. It seems so . . . so . . . so . . . bizarre.

I'm unaccustomed to such strangeness, God. I'm a carpenter. I make things fit. I square off the edges. I follow the plumb line. I measure twice before I cut once. Surprises are not the friend of a builder. I like to know the plan. I like to see the plan before I begin.

But this time I'm not the builder, am I? This time I'm a tool. A hammer in your grip. A nail between your fingers. A chisel in your hands.

This project is yours, not mine.

I guess it's foolish of me to question you. Forgive my struggling. Trust doesn't come easy to me, God. But you never said it would be easy, did you?

One final thing, Father. The angel you sent? Any chance you could send another? If not an angel, maybe a person? I don't know anyone around here and some company would be nice. Maybe the innkeeper or a traveler?

Even a shepherd would do.

Copyright (c) 2008 Max Lucado from the book Cast of Characters: Common People in the Hands of an Uncommon God published by Thomas Nelson; September 2008

I also wanted to attach this video of "Mary Did You Know". It's one of MY FAVORITE Christmas songs. It is done to clips from "The Passion of the Christ". I would not let your little ones watch it as some of the clips are rather graphic. I picked this video though because of how much I loved the movie. I was pregnant with Makily when it came out and I remember sobbing through the majority of it.

You know it was a good movie when you come out and your face is red and puffy from crying right?!

Okay so I admit, I'm a smidge warped.

So anyway here it is: