Imagine Joe at the end of that first week of the Nativity. Standing alone and looking out over Bethlehem.
Joe: Boy! It’s been quite a week Lord. Seven days that felt like forever. What a time! Thank you that we made it through, that we’ve made it this far. That Mary and the baby are okay. I’ll admit I was scared. Would never tell that lot back in Nazareth, you know the guys I hang out with on the street, wouldn’t ever let on to them but… Yea… I was terrified. Still am really. I have no idea where this is heading. No idea if I’m up to the job. I want to appear sorted, of course I do. Want to look like I have strength and courage and a ton of faith… But in reality… It’ll be one step at a time. One hour at a time even. I wake most nights with sweat on my palms and a restlessness in my spirit. You know that. Twist and turn in the small hours wondering. I wish I had more trust in me. More faithfulness. Seems like I can barely muster anything the size of a mustard seed at times. I do get some kind of sense that you know what’s happening here, but there are plenty of moments when I fear it’ll all go wrong, all fall apart. (He sighs) So where next? Back to Nazareth? Or on somewhere else? And why do I keep thinking about Egypt? What’s that about? Why would we ever go there? Into the unknown? Is that from you? I could do with that angel dropping by again to give me a clue here. I’m lost Lord. I really am. Never imagined life would lead me here. I have my own ideas, plenty of them, you know that. But don’t let me trip over my own schemes if you have something better. Please…