By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
The young Jewish woman we think of each Christmas must have been an equestrian of the highest order, riding full-term over rough ground on a donkey. Twenty miles a day for more than seventy miles she and her fiancé traveled so they could be counted in his home town by Roman record keepers.
But that wasn’t the hard part.
The hard part was being with child by someone other than him.
People no doubt looked down on her, sneering behind her back, whispering behind their hands.
“Unheard of,” they may have hissed. Or maybe they didn’t know about the angel’s appearance. Maybe she and her fiancé kept the sacred to themselves, choosing to bear the scorn. After all, every Jew in the neighborhood knew the prophets’ promise that Messiah would come. Surely He wouldn’t come through such a poor and disreputable couple.
And yet He did.
He came as Hope Interrupting and most people didn’t recognize Him.
How inconvenient He was.
“Excuse me, God,” the young woman could have said. “You’re interrupting my plans.”
What of her expectations for the future, similar to those of her friends?
Find an honorable Jewish man
who also had plans and the
means to carry them out.
Someone who could provide for
her and their future family.
Promises were made. Vows kept. A baby wasn’t supposed to come first.
But God interrupted.
It wasn’t what the young woman expected. Not what the guy wanted.
God does that. He interrupts our plans, our expectations.
Just like He interrupted the darkness and called it Light.
Interrupted death and called it Life.
Apparently, that historic couple trusted Him enough to take Him at his word.
What might happen if we let God interrupt our lives with His plan?
The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of
deep darkness a light has dawned.
… For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on
his shoulders. And he will be
called Wonderful Counselor,
Mighty God, Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.
~
*Today is the first Sunday of Advent. Worshippers around the world will honor the day by lighting a candle of Hope.
Hope Interrupting Share on X
Anticipation hung in Ara’s heart like diamond icicles, sparkling and pure. Cradled as the family was on the breast of the mountain, glitter and glamour didn’t fill the house. Instead, the special care given to selected recipes and homemade gifts graced this home. The scent of cider, cinnamon and cloves curtained the kitchen, and star-shaped cookies winked from red yarn on the popcorn-and cranberry-laced spruce.
She shrugged into the sheepskin coat and tucked the denims into her boot tops before making her way to the barn with the scrap can. Another snowfall had chased her out of the calico and into the borrowed britches.
Just inside the barn’s wide door, she paused by a new wooden manger filled with fresh hay as if awaiting a heavenly guest. Bending to breathe in the grassy perfume, she closed her eyes and marveled at the simple pleasure. A scuffling step said Buck was near.
“It’s an offering.” He stopped beside her and fluffed the hay with his large, rough hands. “He came to stockmen, you know. Like us. And His ma made His bed in a barn.”
Ara’s heart warmed at Buck’s uncharacteristic tenderness. “It’s a wonderful gift. Exactly what the Christ child would need.”
His thick brows rose with hope. “You really think so?”
“Of course. Warmth and shelter and love. The same things we all need. I’m sure He would have been most comfortable in this crib you’ve made.”
A smile puffed out Buck’s whiskers, and Ara swallowed a laugh. Such pleasure in a modest gift made from what one had at hand. ~The Snowbound Bride
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
#lovingthecowboy
(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
#WesternRomance #ChristianFiction #FreeBook #HistoricalRomance #CowboyRomance
