Read: Luke 2:1-7
Dear Journal,
Just returned from the stable out back. I tried to make it as warm as I could. I didn’t tell my wife who the extra blankets were for.
About an hour or two ago, a young couple appeared at my door asking for a room. “You’re too late,” I said, “We’re all full tonight. Census time, you know.” The girl looked like she was going to cry. When she silently stroked her belly, hidden up to that point by a large woolen cloak, that’s when I knew. What could I possibly do? My wife and sons were already asleep, so they couldn’t share our room. Especially not if the girl was that far along. Besides, everyone will know tomorrow what happened, anyway. It’s hard to hide that turning away a seriously pregnant woman.
My wife was about her age when she gave birth to our firstborn. “All I have is a stable.” The girl’s eyes met mine. “Follow me,” I said.
I don’t know what I’ll say to my wife and sons when they hear the girl’s cries if she gives birth tonight. What kind of a person is born in a stable?
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