Unafraid Read Online Free PDF

yarn, and strips of cloth. They’re in the pack.” He found them for her. “I’ll need water, Joseph.”
    “There’s fresh water in the cask. I’ll fill the skin.”
    “Place it beside me and then go outside.”
    “But, Mary . . .” She was only fourteen, a mere child herself. How could she manage on her own?
    She spoke with authority. “Go, Joseph! I know what to do. Mother gave me instructions before we left Nazareth. And surely the Lord will guide me in this as he has guided us in everything thus far. Go now.” She clenched her teeth, her shoulders rising from the ground. “Go!”
    Joseph went outside. Too tense to sit, he paced, praying under his breath. He heard Mary moan and paused, listening intently in case she changed her mind and cried out for him. He heard the hay rustling and paced again, staring up at the points of light in the dark sky. He sensed forces gathering around him as though invisible beings had come to witness this event. Angelic or demonic, he didn’t know. Heart pounding, Joseph beseeched God for help and stepped back so that he was standing in the entrance of the cave. The wind came up and for an instant he thought he heard laughter and a dark voice speaking: Do you really believe you can protect them from me?
    Joseph fell to his knees and raised his hands to the heavens, where God was upon his throne, and he prayed fervently. “You are the Lord our God, the maker of the heavens and the earth. Protect Mary and your Son from the one who is trying to destroy them both.”
    And he stretched out his arms as though to take the full force of whatever would come against them.
    The cold wind stopped and the air around him grew warm again. His heart slowed as he heard the sound of wings. Scriptures flooded his mind. Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. I am with you.

          
    Squatting, Mary uttered a last fierce cry as the Son of God, bathed in water and blood, slid from her body. Sagging to her knees, Mary lifted him and held him against her breast, welcoming him into the world with soft joyous tears. He cried in the cold night air, and Mary worked quickly, using the yarn to tie off the cord before cutting it. She gazed at her son in adoration as she washed his slick, squiggling body with water and rubbed the salt over his skin to prevent infection.
    She was surprised that he looked like any other baby. There was no hint of Shekinah glory, or of the majesty of his Almighty Father. Ten fingers, ten toes, a thatch of black hair, skinny little legs and arms and the wizened face of a newborn who had dwelt in water for nine long months.
    She laughed as she wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and held him again, kissing his face and cradling him tenderly in her arms. “Jesus,” she whispered, “my precious Jesus.” She was filled with emotion. She held in her arms the hope of Israel, the Anointed One of God, Son of Man, God the Son, the Son of God. Closing her eyes, she breathed a prayer. “Help me be his mother, Lord. Oh, help me.”
    When all was accomplished as her mother had said, Mary rose on trembling legs. “Joseph,” she called softly, “come and see him.”
    Joseph entered the cave immediately, his face pale and sweating as though he had been the one in travail and not her. She laughed softly in joy and looked down at Jesus sleeping in her arms. “Isn’t he beautiful?” Never had she felt such love for any human being. She felt she would burst with it.
    Joseph came close and peered down at the baby, a look of surprise on his face. Mary’s knees were trembling with exhaustion, and she looked around for a warm, safe bed for her son. There was only the manger. “Add more straw, Joseph, and he’ll be warm.” As Joseph prepared the manger, Mary kissed her baby’s face, knowing that one day this baby would grow up and hold the destiny of Israel in his hands.
    “It’s ready,” Joseph said, and Mary stepped over and placed Jesus in the manger filled with straw.