My Hope

Today I have the joy of bringing you another exceptional guest post. This one is written from the perspective of the innkeeper's wife and it touches my heart in a place that is real and raw. I know you will love it as much as I do and will want to read so much more of her heart here.


by Heatherly Sylvia

I hear them whispering.

I don't dare join them- in case they are right- but it is hard not to hear their gossip, their questions, their accusations.

"...only pledged, not married..."

"...angels spoke.... that's likely"

"...should be ashamed..."

"...surprised he stayed..."

When she left town to visit relatives – suddenly and without a word – we all wondered, but it's not unusual to visit one's cousins. Then the whispers traveled back towards town, "Elizabeth is with child." 

We were shocked beyond speech – it was rumored Zechariah was too, if the gossips could be believed.

It seemed unlikely that the story was true. Whispers of Abraham and his Sarah echoed, truth entwined with the obvious fabrication of wives and mothers with nothing better to do than to speak of others'

concerns as if they were a children's tale. And then...

It became apparent rather quickly that Elizabeth's rumored blessing was not going to be the biggest news on market day anymore...

As we have traveled these dusty roads toward David's city, ruled by Caesar and the census call, I've struggled – wanting ask her, wanting to amble beside her, as we used to in our childhood, at our mothers' sides at the market, in the fields; wishing I could share my news without the fear of the gossips that travel the same path, the same pace:

"Mary, I believe you."

"Mary, I'm scared for you."

"Mary, does Joseph really believe you?"

"Mary, I am pregnant, too. I am scared. I feel ill. The way is so long, the travel bothersome, the smells overwhelming, the food unpalatable...

"Mary, how do you look so peaceful?"

I am afraid to ask. Although their contract has been signed and Joseph calls her wife, the gossips continue. They whisper of angel's words and YHWH's blessing.

Why isn't she terrified?

What does she know that we do not?

Where does her hope lie?

Where can I get even a piece of the peace she has?

As she rubs her large belly, when no one is looking, Joseph lays his hand on hers. They share a secret smile and I feel the intruder as a moment passes between them. There is a spark I've never felt, a joy I've never known.

Where does their hope lie?

When news comes days later, shared over the rattle of carts and the braying of donkeys, I learn that her Hope was laid in a feeding trough.

I ignore my fear, and among the shepherds and animals I gain the strength to ask her.

Her tired smile is serene, her eyes sparkle with joy,

"My hope is in YHWH. My Hope is YHWH."

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Heatherly Lane Sylvia is a mom, wife, homeschooler, speaker, aspiring writer, and apprentice grace-giver. Her greatest desire is to live a life following after God with abandon, and she hopes to be a blessing to as many people as she can while she figures out exactly how to do that. Het is passionate, loud, addicted to books, and loves her friends, old and new. She adores the blogosphere and would love to “meet” you there. She’s also pretty sure that blog comments and tweets are her love language. Check out her blog A Pinkdaisy Life or follow her on Twitter @Pinkdaisyjane

Little Eyes are Watching

Today I am so honored to introduce you to my friend, Beck Gambill. Beck's sincere love for Jesus shines through every word she writes. Her blog inspires me and fills me with a sense of purpose and peace whenever I visit there. Today I hope you'll connect with her either on her blog, Facebook or Twitter. You'll be blessed because you did.


Oh and you can find me writing on her blog today so hop over and read my thoughts and stay awhile to be blessed by hers.
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by Beck Gambill

Have you ever thought about the gnarled hands that helped Jesus learn to walk? Or the wise heart that offered comfort and advice to his young mother? This Christmas season I've been pondering a person who's name isn't mentioned in the account of Jesus birth, but of whose existence I'm sure. Jesus' grandmother.

Mary's response to the circumstances of her life must have been a result, at least partially, of her upbringing. She saw faith modeled. Everything she needed to know about raising children, keeping a home, being faithful to Joseph, and trusting God was influenced by her mother. Her response, to an unexpected message brought by an extraordinary messenger, was faith.

Jesus wasn't born just to Mary, he was born into a whole family. What relationship was there between this very special little boy and his grandmother? Even if she doubted the story of her daughter's pregnancy babies have a way of softening hearts. I've learned that in difficult situations precious babies are the great equalizer. I imagine, just like every other generation of women through the ages, her pride and joy in this new addition was profound.

Did she and Jesus share family jokes, did she sing songs to him, did she tell him stories of God's faithfulness from her own life? How do you teach the King of the universe... anything? And yet that was her responsibility. As well as Mary's and Joseph's and Jesus' other family members.

You will not dandle the Messiah on your knee, but certainly the faithfulness of raising godly children will be rewarded in future generations. “Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it,” says Proverbs 22:6. By the fruit of Mary's life it appears that her mother set her feet onto the right path.

This Christmas, “come, let us adore him,” little eyes are watching!

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Beck Gambill writes at Beck Far From Home (beckfarfromhome.blogspot.com) about her homesickness for Jesus. Mentoring and ministering to women's hearts is her passion. You can download her free ebook on mentoring, Sister to Sister, on her website. She is privileged to partner with her husband in full time ministry, as well as being the mommy to Max and Maggie.