Based on: Luke chapter 1
Summary: Sometimes, as a child, she had thought there would never be an end to waiting.
Sometimes, as a child, she had thought there would never be an end to waiting.
She waited to be strong enough to carry the water jar, to have arms long enough to use the loom, to be old enough to remove coals from the fire to light the lamp.
Waiting became exciting, meant that something new and bright was just around the corner. Womanhood, a husband of her own, a house of her own, children of her own to teach and watch over. She'd prepared for it all, learning to cook and weave and mend and clean and heal and comfort and love.
The man who had been chosen for her had even exceeded her daydreams. Handsome, well-off, and kind, with a smile he brought out only for her.
Waiting came to mean the same as hope.
Then came that strange man in her father's house, who spoke to her as if she were royalty. Told her that the Lord (and he had not said "Adonai," but used the never-spoken Name) had chosen her to bear His holy son, brushing aside the fact of her virginity.
Her answer wasthe only one she could have made: “Be it to me as you have said.” With the secret whispered caveat, if indeed your words are His.
And now she waits again. Waits for her father to calm himself. Waits for her mother to stop railing at her with questions that she refuses to hear the answers to. Waits for Joseph to return his decision about their betrothal.
Waits for the babe, now moving in her belly, to be born into a world where he was not conceived, and that surely will welcome him as warmly as it now cherishes his Law-breaking, unmarried mother.
It seems that waiting is all she can do.