Susan LaffertyChasing memories.
In a season crowded with reminders.
Decor. Music. Stories. Photographs. Taking us back.
We’re looking for a simpler time. Before complex issues came to our attention. And weighty matters entered the picture.
Before we knew.
Christmas prophecies. Read and proclaimed. Every Advent. Christmas Eve. Christmas Day.
Among them, Isaiah’s words.
“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.”
Isaiah 9:6
One Christmas in Karachi. Mary’s travel to Bethlehem in her pregnancy catches my attention. And imagination.
I’m expecting our second child at the time. Struggling with all-day sickness. I put myself in her shoes. On the rough road from Nazareth.
Arriving. Travel weary. And finding no place to stay.
Making do in temporary quarters. Where animals are kept.
Giving birth.
Away from home and the familiar.
Placing a newborn in the feeding trough.
Yet, treasure. In the midst of it all. She holds the Savior of the world in her arms.
