Hey friends, sorry about not posting the past couple days. I know you’re following me closely and have been wondering. Well, maybe not. Perhaps I’m just a minor blip on your radar. A diversion. Whatever I am, know that I’m still here and still alive.
I’ve been sick! Acute sinusitus and acute bronchitus. Getting treated with Amoxicillin, Prednezone, and Codeine. I’m off the anti-histamines, since they weren’t doing me any good anyway. How I managed all this without getting the flu is amazing. Especially since I don’t get flu shots.
That aside, I’m back to work today. Back to posting. Brenda’s poem (#90) is already posted. Today’s entry for me is probably my favorite of all my Christmas poems that I wrote. Wings tells the story from the perspective of the angel sent to protect Mary and Joseph during this difficult time. She’s totally not aware that she’s an integral part of a much greater plan.
One thing I do in this telling is cast a different light on the innkeeper. So many stories portray him as a greedy, evil man who forces the couple into horrible accommodations. The Bible doesn’t put it that way, only with the single line, “Because there was no room in the inn.” Putting things in context, we realize the innkeeper is a compassionate person who, like the angel, plays a very important role.
© W. Scott Grant
“Protect these children,” I was told. I was new to the order.
This man and his young wife, who was soon to be a mother.
He had to travel a long way, he had planned to go alone.
“Go to Bethlehem and be counted,” said the king in far-off Rome.
“No, this cannot be,” I whispered in her ear.
“Your time is soon to come. Your husband must be near.”
She pleaded with her man, “Don’t leave me behind.
I’ll ride your brother’s mule. I know that he won’t mind.”
With my urging he relented. “I shall lead and you can ride.
By taking the shortest route, that star will be our guide.”
The couple traveled night and day, I watched the road ahead.
But when they got to Bethlehem, I could not find a bed.
The inn was crowded full, there was no room to spare.
“But if you don’t mind the animals, there’s a stable over there.”
The inn-keeper’s words seemed harsh, but he could offer nothing better.
If they need anything at all, he’ll gladly send his daughter.
My heart sunk in despair, as nodding, they turned away.
How could they find much comfort among the stray and hay?
The animals parted as they entered, they would not complain.
But the time was soon to come, as Mary felt the pain.
I knew that I had failed. Not now! This wasn’t right!
She could not have this child. Not this stable! Not this night!
Tears flowed from my eyes as this young mother gave birth.
No bed, no midwife – the worst place on earth.
I did what I could: I told Joseph what to do.
Even though he couldn’t hear me, it seemed as if he knew.
Soon he held the crying babe, he smiled to his wife.
“You have done a wondrous thing. You have brought forth new life.”
She took the babe in her arms, he suckled on her breast.
When he was finally full, she laid him down to rest.
I knelt beside the manger, unseen by all – even him.
“I apologize for this dreadful place. I’m sorry,” I said again.
Then, opening his eyes, he looked straight at me.
I heard his thoughts in my mind. I knew that he could see.
“My guardian,” He said. “Rise! For me an angel choir sings!
But now I say to you, you have earned your angel wings!”