Life Happens…

The angel proclaims,
Jesus will be his name.

Astonishment, a gentle heart,
accepting the will of her God.

Obedience, honouring faith,
loving kindness, his legacy.

From Nazareth to Bethlehem,
taxation journey, birth foretold.

Husband and wife, womb-cradled babe
seeking shelter to rest, no room.

Holding her belly, she winces,
painful contractions, pressure.

In a straw-laden stall, she lies,
breathing and pushing, labouring.

The time prophesied approaches,
a soft cry rends the air, His birth.

With bowed head, she lovingly cuddles the swaddled infant to her breast as a tear dribbles, wetting her cheek. Squatting down in front of mother and child, he reaches over, placing his wood-worn fingertips under her chin. Gently lifting her face, he slowly leans over the nursing baby. Then with a kiss, tasting the saltiness on her delicate skin, a tear escapes his eye. She smiles, moisture filling her soft brown eyes, gazes into his sparkling eyes, then slowly bows her head again.

He takes his place beside her, sitting upon a bed of straw. In tenderness, one comforting arm wraps around her slender shoulders. There they sit, awestruck, filled with humble adoration. The silence of unspoken solemnity envelopes them like a halo in the evening air. Admiring and cradling their suckling infant, held with interlocked hands upon his back, they form a circle of love. Three pairs of eyes glisten like stars, invisibly binding them like a constellation twinkling a magical story.

The miracle of birth: unbelievably exquisite, emotionally exhausting, yet upliftingly enriching, creating an unexplainable spiritual connection and feeling of smallness in the universe, gratitude. (Who am I that God would be mindful of me, granting me this incredible gift of being the vessel of a life?)

In the solitude of her spirit, she ponders her faith, this life-changing experience, and motherhood. Remembering the words spoken, she feels an outpouring of love. A young handmaiden of a lowly estate, chosen, prays in her heart, relinquishing her fears to hope and trust. He, too, reflects upon a night of instruction and enlightenment. An unimaginable visitation wherein distilling peace filled his soul, teaching and comforting him in preparation for faithfully fulfilling his duty in love and humility of spirit. He now prays in his heart, ever more fervently, for guidance and wisdom.

He feels her snuggling closer under his armpit. A sudden, slight chill of after-birth shivers ripples through her body, drawing his heart to manifest itself in a kiss upon her forehead. Strengthened by the comfort in his arms, her eyes momentarily close. Peacefully her head rests upon his chest.

The sound of satisfied cooing, like angelic music, harmonizes hearts as a wiggling snuggle reveals tiny fingers touching bare skin. Looking into each other’s eyes, their souls knowingly meet in the culminating oneness of overwhelming intimacy. The Prince of Peace fills their young hearts with the unutterable: sacred moments.

Shepherds and Lambs

Shepherds and lambs
Bethlehem, near.
A night of light,
angels calm fear. 

Shepherds and lambs
witness and hear.
Joyous refrains
heralds, so clear.

Shepherds and lambs
watchful and meek.
Wondering awe
the manger, seek.

Shepherds and lambs,
guardians and flock.
Following the light,
solemnly walk.

Shepherds fear not
lambs safely rest.
Light of the world
swaddled abreast.

Shepherds pause when approaching the resting place. Reverently, they gingerly slip into the intimacy of a humble scene wherein a protective carpenter and teary-eyed mother sit lovingly next to the manger-lain infant, bathing in the pervading light of divine acknowledgment.

Welcoming thankful smiles greet the shepherds with an invitation to see, feel (one-on-one), and visit.
How did their conversation progress?
What questions would they ask?
How would they remember this night?
Would they become disciples one day?

Shepherds and lambs
symbols for One,
loyal and kind,
tender heart, Son.

Shepherd called Good,
Lamb, Son of God.

Religious and spiritual experiences providing roots and balances for me are continually evolving. I thoroughly enjoy reading scriptures and reflecting on the experiences of those whose partial stories found print, even an infant. There is so much more than the last three years of his mortal life.

I ask questions as I read, trying to understand commonalities. I can see my actions, weaknesses, strengths, and desires while trying to visualize their concerns, issues, and joys. I especially like to read about the one-on-one interactions people have with Jesus. I pay particular attention to the effect of those relationships and moments upon both he and the individual, the questions he poses, and the answers he gives.

This life is one comprising life-altering relationships. My relationships with my Father in Heaven, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit are inspirational. This Christmas, totally alone, my thoughts turned to the first story of the reason for the gift-giving and celebrations.

Mary, Joseph, dreams, angels, shepherds, and Jesus appeals to the romantic in me. As a mother of eight children, I think about Mary and Joseph, their faith, traditions, relationship, her first pregnancy, his stewardship, and their circumstances, hence this post.

Lives forever change after an encounter with Him.
Many have been my encounters with Him.
He knows who will cross my path.
They are instruments in His hands, always for a purpose.

I play, live, laugh, cry, write, travel, and love wholeheartedly in the mountains, on or in the water, and everywhere I see, smell, and hear nature. For me, this is spiritual, an encounter with Him. I feel deeply, treasuring those things I consider sacred. Keeping most things to myself allows me to hide where I feel safe and secure. I continually seek guidance and follow my heart. I believe in the efficacy of prayers, though sometimes I wonder about my perspectives when interpreting my dreams, hopes, and prayers.

Introspectively thoughtful, I ponder what and how I learn. It is slowly, accompanied figuratively, by several smacks on the back of the head. I accept my life as it happens. I believe all things happen for a reason. Some reasons I know for they are my choices, others I may never know. My life, as yours, plays out in many ways, by/through various means, with influences and choices evidenced. The Prince of Peace fills my heart to overflowing.

© Vicki Nicholls December 2022

Life Happens . . . so do Christmas Ponderings

What about you and your life?