By KATHLEEN HEPPELL
Writer,
Selah Companion

Sun about to set, Shabbat to begin. I pause. Tears run down my cheeks.

This week’s events are impossible to comprehend:
Jesus entering Jerusalem on a donkey
Messiah!
Joy pouring through my body.

Today, leaving Mary as we stand at the foot of the cross. His last breath…On a cross!

Confusion. Grief. Memories.

* * *

More than thirty-three years ago. Carrying heavy buckets of water. I see my innkeeper husband turn away a young couple. She is pregnant, her time near.

I call out. Sure, I will not be heard in the busy streets. So many visitors for the census. Hurrying carefully to not lose a drop of water, “Caleb! Stop! Wait!”

Relief. He hears me. He says, “Rachel, you know we are full.”

“Yes. And what about the stable?”

Shaking his head at me, his lips turned up, eyes brightening. “Ah, This has possibilities. You always find a way.”

Settling into the stable. Joseph, soon to be a father, cleans the stalls. Spreads fresh hay. Feeds the animals.

“I must find a midwife. It won’t be long now.” Mary takes in a deep breath as pain squeezes anew.

“I am a midwife.”

“It does not look like it will be long before you are ready to deliver your baby,” Mary says. “I am but seven months along. It will not be a problem.”

“It will be some hours yet. Let me prepare.”

Mary had her baby boy after many hours of labor. Joseph, anxious father, relieved when allowed to see both of them. Dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. They named him, Jesus, “The Lord is salvation.”

Now wrapped in swaddling cloths, in his mother’s arms. His parents, smiles on lips, exhaustion in body, their eyes shine as well as their countenances as they gaze upon their son.

We are ready to sleep, the night still young. Only a few hours later, it felt like minutes, we are awakened by voices. Looking out the window, I see shepherds at the stable door.

“This is the place. Messiah inside,” I hear.

Leaving my bed, I hurry to see…Entering quietly. Lowly, smelly, shepherds kneeling at the manger.

Jesus is sleeping. In a hushed voice, the eldest speaks of angels, filling the sky, telling them this is God’s Messiah. They have come to worship. To see their Redeemer.

I stop breathing until I gasp for air. Jesus! The Messiah?

Mary and Joseph move into a nearby home. Mary and I friends. As my time nears, I speak of my own anxieties about birth. Yes. Pregnant midwives have fears too.

I stop breathing until I gasp for air. Jesus! The Messiah?

Mary and Joseph move into a nearby home. Mary and I friends. As my time nears, I speak of my own anxieties about birth. Yes. Pregnant midwives have fears too.

Mary knows I was barren the first ten years of marriage. This is my first child. He arrives safe. Named Caleb, after his father, faithful in name and action. Our son give us great joy.

One day, early in the morning, I hear different noises. Loud whispering voices. Clatter of hooves. As I look out my window I see a group of men, three clearly leaders, carrying packages as they enter Mary and Joseph’s home. Soon I discover they are learned men from the East having traveled months to see Jesus.

Messiah?

Mary smiles. Says nothing. That night King Herod’s soldiers come. House to house. No warning.

Screams. They enter our home. Grab my baby roughly from my arms. In moments he is lifeless.

Thrown at my feet. Paralyzed. Horrified.

THIS CANNOT BE!

Picking him up gently. I rock him in my arms. Run outside. Tears stream down my cheeks. Other mothers doing the same. Jesus comes to mind. I run. Throw open their door. Scream Mary’s name.

They are gone!

Returning home, we are swallowed by grief. Completing only required motions. “YAWEH, I do not understand!” I cry, sometimes shout.

Somehow, we go on. Other sons and daughters come, bring joy. Empty remains part of my heart even with bittersweet memories of baby Caleb.

* * *

Thirty years go by. I hear of a Rabbi. Question: Could he be Messiah? No. From Nazareth. Not Bethlehem.

I go to see for myself when he speaks nearby. Such wisdom. Truth. My heart unlocks. He is! Is he?

One day I see Mary, older, still Mary. We wrap our arms around each other in love and greeting.

Later, He wraps his arms around me. “I know your suffering. You are precious to me.”

This is Jesus. He is Messiah!

While we cannot travel with him, we are believers. Still missing Caleb, My husband and I experience healing.

Today, I stood with Mary and the other women. Before a cross. How is it he did not escape death again?

* * *

Now. Shabbat begins:
“Blessed are You, Infinite One,
Who makes us holy through our actions
And honors us with the light of Shabbat…”

My eyes remain upon Yahweh. I belong to Him. I don’t understand, and I know Messiah will rescue His people. He is faithful.