“The Inn”
The journey’s end is not what it seems
Follow the light…
Where it leads … is where to begin…again
Joseph and Mary were dusty and worn
As the long day drew to a close. Fatigue from the journey, and Mary’s condition, were taking their toll, the late afternoon shadows were lengthening.
Memories of the angel messengers seemed as distant as the stars making their faint appearance overhead.
Night had nearly fallen when the weary couple arrived in Bethlehem.
Mary, had been experiencing birth pangs
For much of the afternoon. Heavy with child, she had chosen not to alarm Joseph, but the sudden wave of nausea overcame her and a groan escaped unbidden from deep within her frame.
Joseph, concern etching lines on his weathered face, reached for her arm.
Seeking to comfort her, he squeezed it gently. He was a man of few words, but he was kind, and Mary knew his concern was genuine.
He tied the donkey to a hitching post with fumbling hands:
He hurried to inquire if there were room for them.
Bethlehem was swollen with those returning to register.
The expected Jewish hospitality, extended to even distant relatives, had been strained to the breaking point.
Accommodations for travelers in the small village had all been spoken for and approaching birth pangs signaled, room or no room, nature would soon take its course.
Beads of sweat on Mary’s brow
Plastered wisps of hair to the sides of her face, gaunt with pain. Her eyes had a glassy faraway look, as she unconsciously brushed the dampened strands from her face.
Another involuntary spasm racked her body. She withdrew to her world within to face the pain without distraction.
As the contraction subsided, Mary felt the first flush of panic seek residence in her mind.
She resisted the impulse, but it was clear;
