Each year at Levy’s Christmas Communion Service, Theresa sings, “Breath of Heaven” by Amy Grant. Some of the words are, “I have traveled many moonless nights, cold and weary with a  baby inside, And I wonder what I’ve done..”

Think about Joseph and Mary’s journey. It was difficult, no mistaking it. Before it was over they would experience frigid weather, rugged terrain, aching bodies and bone weary exhaustion. They faced fear of the unknown—maybe even fear of being robbed by thieves-- and, upon arriving in Bethlehem, were jostled and crushed by the crowd of others registering for the census. Door after door they knocked on, but found no room, no hospitable gesture. Hearty though she was, Mary’s near- to- term pregnancy, her blessed weight, must have caused her serious discomfort. Then to take refuge in a cave used for animals, to feel the contractions start, to labor through the night until finally the child she had been carrying cried out clear and strong.

In the midst of the romanticized images of Christmas and the nativity story, we forget the difficulty on the journey to Bethlehem, the difficulty of this birth. It has been important for me to remember that again, as this Advent has been anything but holly jolly or filled with holy light for many I know. Loss, partings, work stress, conflict, fearful diagnoses, illness and imminent surgery are troublesome houseguests in many lives.
How then can this ancient pair help us to bear our own difficult journey?

There must have been times when they looked at the stars and held their breaths at the wonder of God’s creation. They must have talked together of their hopes for this child, this longed for one—must have shared their dreams to lift their hearts. From time to time, they likely exchanged stories with other fellow travelers, taking their minds off the rocky road which bruised their feet. Perhaps, after a long day’s walk, Joseph tenderly massaged Mary’s swollen feet and tried to make her as comfortable as possible, easing her burden. Privately, when sleep wouldn’t come, they each pondered their own encounters with the divine messengers, encounters which changed their lives forever. And in the darkness, waiting for Emmanuel to come, they prayed.

Breath of heaven, hold me together, be forever near me, Breath of Heaven. Breath of heaven, lighten my darkness, pour over me your holiness, for you are holy. Breath of heaven.