Three Days: A Mother's Story Read Free Page A

beauty and quality unlike any I had ever seen before.
    Being with Elizabeth for all those weeks was like a priceless gift from God. Her faith and strength and wisdom encouraged me every single day of my visit. And she helped confirm that Jehovah had indeed blessed me with the greatest honor given to women.
    “The child in your womb will change the course of history,” she told me. And whenever I felt overwhelmed by such strong prophetic words, worried that I, an inexperienced young girl, would be incapable of mothering such an important child, she gently reminded me that the Lord God would show me how to do these things.
    “Lean on him, Mary,” she often said. “The Lord Jehovah will lead you.”
    Her genuine love and kind words were like a fortification that strengthened my heart, and after three months passed I felt ready for what lay ahead. I knew it was time to go home.
    Elizabeth and I embraced for a long moment when I was about to leave. She was nearly ready to deliver, and her belly was so swollen that I could barely wrap my arms around her. Both of us were crying, tears of joy mixed with tears of sorrow.
    “The Lord God Jehovah bless you at your birthing time,” I told her as I wiped my eyes. “Blessings upon you and your son and his father.”
    “And on you,” she said, waving a silk scarf as I left her home. “And upon my Lord, your son.”
    Asher was waiting for me down by the road. Once again he had been too embarrassed to come inside Elizabeth and Zacharias’s fine house, although I knew he had gladly taken the food the servant had given him. He appeared to have finished his meal, as he rested in the shade of an olive tree. But when he saw me he stood and waved.
    “I think I must be traveling with royalty,” he said as he pretended to bow. “Where did you get the new clothes?”
    Embarrassed by my finery, I quickly explained that our cousin Elizabeth was very generous.
    “I noticed,” he said as he nodded to the large bundle the servant had given him to carry for me. I had a smaller bundle of my own.
    “Do you mind?” I asked, feeling guilty for being such a burden.
    “Not for you, little sister.” Then he hugged me and told me he had missed me at home. “And I am not the only one,” he said as we began walking north. “Your betrothed is beside himself.”
    “Joseph?”
    He nodded. “Who else? The poor man has asked me at least a dozen times when you planned to come home. I think he was worried that you had left us for good.”
    Joseph. I had barely considered him during my time away. Not that I did not care about him. I certainly did. But I had no idea how he would react to my rather shocking announcement. Instead of fretting, I reminded myself of Elizabeth’s words. “Trust Jehovah. He will see you through.”
    As we walked, I prayed that Jehovah would also see Joseph through. For I knew as well as anyone that Joseph, the strong and handsome carpenter, was indeed a proud man. A good man, no doubt, but any man (no matter how good) would have to question how his betrothed had come to be in the family way and yet remained a virgin. It was clear that I had some explaining to do. Trust Jehovah , I told myself. He will see me through .
    I remind myself of these same words again tonight. I know that, more than ever, I need to believe this. Trust Jehovah, and he will see me through. Trust Jehovah.
    Weary from travel after I got home, I spent a couple of days in solitude and rest—and prayer. But I knew I could not avoid Joseph forever, and on the third day I sent a message through Asher that I wanted to speak to my betrothed. I invited Joseph to meet me in our family’s garden, hoping that would keep our conversation private. I even wore one of the new outer garments Elizabeth had helped me create, along with a very fine linen veil and several bracelets. I could tell by Joseph’s expression that he was truly happy to see me, and I suspect that my improved appearance was pleasing to him.