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"Joseph, come here!" Worried at the sudden call, the man in question quickly moved to Mary's side. His wife grabbed his hand and set it on her abdomen. If it weren't for his shock at what she had done, he would have immediately jerked it back. Instead, it was still there when a breathless Mary cried out, "There! Did you feel it?"
He had been too distracted to pay any attention to what he felt. (and it was not yet for him to enjoy what it felt like to touch his wife anyway, by the angel's command) So he pulled his hand free and moved to return to the wood he had been working. "No," he said. "I didn't feel anything."
He could sense her hurt at what he said, but he forced himself not to comfort her. She was not for him, not yet. And so he would not treat her as such, not in that way. And because that was so hard, he would be careful how close he let himself be to her. His eyes closed. As hard as that was.
Mary gave a slight cry, full of wonder, and then his hand was again held by hers, pulling him back to her side. Her voice was just as full of wonder as her cry, no sign of anything else in it. "Joseph, here. Feel him! Feel him kick!" Joseph felt his heart catch in his throat and he froze. So when the child moved within her womb, he felt it. At first he shared her wonder-he had never experienced that contact with a child before. Then he was overwhelmed by a wave of emotions.
Awe came first. This was him. The Anointed One of God. The Son of His Holy Spirit, carried in his wife's womb. Now shock. This is the first child that would be born of his wife's womb. So much she would have to go through yet before he was born. So much Joseph would have to help her through. This is when the shock began to switch into dread.
The days were running out of her time. The child would come soon, and her time bearing this burden, this honor would be done. And Joseph's would begin. He was to be the boy's father. Wonder swelled for a moment. Joseph was to be a father. His first child, a son, by the words delivered by an angel. Then a shiver of doubt. Because, while he was to raise the child, this was not Joseph's son.
This is what has weighed on him since the dream. He never doubted Mary's faithfulness since, and he never doubted her ability to fulfill the task given to her by the God Who Is Salvation. Nor had he doubted the LORD in choosing her to do so. No, Joseph doubted whether he was worthy of the task he has been given. To guard them both, to help raise this child, the child of God. Surely the LORD could have found a better man.
Joseph knows, God in Heaven he knows that he is not perfect. True, none are but God alone, yet there must be one who is better! The Son of God deserved such to raise him! Joseph would say a priest, if it had not been prophesied that he would be from the line of David, blessed be the Name of the God who has chosen to bless His faithful servant. But, if not a priest, then a Pharisee, or a rabbi! Not a young man who has never taught a line of Torah! Or perhaps a great house, a mighty clan, wealthy and powerful. Those strong and mighty. Not...not a laborer who feels he can barely provide for the woman he loves.
Why? Why has the LORD asked something so great of him? Joseph took a shuddering breath, his eyes closing and his body sinking to the ground. His head fell to rest on the hand Mary still held, only two palms and her womb separating him from the Hope of Israel. Squeezing his eyes tighter, he felt tears beginning to gather. What does he know of caring for an infant? Has he tended to a woman with child before? Does he remember how he was taught the things of God to pass it on from his heart to the next? What does he know of being a father?
More shuddering breaths come, and, yes, perhaps a few tears, then he feels Mary's other hand rest on his head. She runs her fingers through his hair in calming motions as his breaths become sobs. She is comforting him, and is he to be the strength of their household? Oh, Lord, God on High, help him. And the child moves again.
A laugh chokes out of his throat. Another comes, and a smile begins to form on his face. Not even born and already this king is offering comfort to his people. Even his own father. Laughing deeper now, he pulls his head back and looks up through eyes fogged with tears of worry and joy both. He looks at her. His beautiful wife. The mother of the son of God. She smiles back, and he knows she understands. Not all his worries perhaps, but his joy yes. His hope. His faith, not in his own abilities, but in the delicate life she now carries.
Jesus, the angel said to name him. Yes, Joseph thinks. Yes, they are not enough for such a blessed boy. But, by the faithful, loving kindness of the LORD Almighty, God of Heaven and Earth, that will be okay. And he thinks, perhaps for the first time, that the name, Jesus-the LORD Saves-is not just for those whom he will lead once he has grown. Together, just the three of them in the small room they have to call their own, he realizes that the name is for them as well. For a faithful virgin named Mary. And a fool who loves God with all his heart named Joseph.