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When Joseph first laid eyes on Mary's firstborn, it was...wonderful and...terrifying. He had been worried about Mary during the whole birth, and then he heard the child, THE child, and then he saw him. The angel had told him about this boy, told Mary, and he'd felt him moving in Mary's womb, but actually seeing him...nothing could have prepared him for that moment.
Here, here was this little, defenseless babe, crying and squinting, and...ugly. The thought briefly hit him that the son of God was still just as ugly as any other infant. Then all he could think about was how precious this child was. And he didn't seem ugly, just beautiful.
Because this boy had just come from the woman Joseph loved. This boy was alive, and not just alive but he practically seemed to glow-moving, crying, full of life! He was miracle in the flesh. He was a prophecy fulfilled, prophec-IES fulfilled, to be more accurate. He was THE son of GOD, here with them, the One Who Will Save His People From Their Sins. And he was Joseph's responsibility.
He could barely remember the first hours afterwards, even if he would never forget them at the same time. Everything seemed to happen in an emotional daze. He cried almost as much as the new child. He cried when he saw him. He cried when he heard Mary was okay. He cried as those present congratulated him on a son. He cried as he thought about that dream, again and again. He and Mary both cried as they looked down at the little one, laid in a manger for lack of any other option.
He had been too distracted to really think about that part at first. Then Mary let out an absurd laugh and commented on the infant's accomodations. Suddenly they were each giving, short, hiccuping laughs at how surreal this all was, each one mingling with even more tears that they could do no better.
Joseph had been ashamed and horrified he didn't have a better option for welcoming the son of their LORD, the One True God. He had wished with all his heart that they could have better prepared, that he could have been born in Nazareth, that the Romans hadn't demanded a census, that they had had more time in Bethlehem before Mary's time came. It felt like an eternity before their tears slowed.
And then the shepherds came and Joseph was ashamed for a different reason. Because God had sent them specifically to a child in a manger. Why had he doubted God's plan? The God Who Provides had known how this would happen, had planned it all out, how could Joseph have hoped to make things better for God's son?
Then Mary called his name, and looked at the child, and he didn't think about anything but the three of them. Joseph and Mary fell asleep thanking God for His goodness, His faithful, loving kindness, for His plan, and for choosing them to play a part in it.
Then they woke up to the sound of the child crying. The next several days went by in another blur. Joseph felt exhausted, and happy, less aware of time passing than ever before, and simultaneously more conscious of each day ticking off. One of his few clear memories from that first week was the first time he held the child.
He had been terrified to do so. Of course, he was worried he wouldn't do it right, or drop the infant. But more than that, he was worried he would drop the son of GOD. He had only given in and held him when he realized how exhausted Mary was. And, indeed, the first several minutes were spent desperately praying to God that he wouldn't find a way to mess it up. Then, his eyes drifted to the infant's face. Looking down into those shining, small eyes as they looked back was indescribable.
That night, when all was quiet, he would wonder what was going through the boy's mind as he looked at him. Did he approve of his Father's choice in which man would raise him? Did he consider how pleasing (or amusing) Joseph's face was to look at? Perhaps he was sensing every emotion going through the man in whose arms he laid. Or maybe the child just tried to make sense of what this tan blob with dark, pointy stuff sticking out beneath it was and why it wasn't Mary.
Then came the big day. The day the boy was circumcised. And the newly named Jesus cried again. Jesus cried, and cried, and cried, and Mary and Joseph cried. At first they cried because the child was in such pain. Then they cried because he was still crying. Then Mary wore out, and Joseph took Jesus. And as Mary fell into a deep sleep, despite the noise, Joseph rocked the young Jesus, and it wasn't wonderful, and it wasn't terrifying. He wasn't worried about dropping God's son, he only had one prayer. Great and Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth, God of Peace, please give Your Son some of that peace so we can both sleep!!