“What? What's wrong?” I open my eyes but I’m afraid to move. My heart is thumping.

He pulls the warm wool blanket off me. A rush of cold air sends shivers down my spine. The small oil lamp in the corner of the room flicks wild shadows dancing across the walls.

Joe is already dressed. “C’mon. We need to get outta here. Grab the baby and let’s go.”

“But it's the middle of the night.”

“I know what time it is. The longer we stay, the more danger we’re in.”

Now I’m really scared. The baby. My baby is in danger?

I stand up stiffly and rush toward the child. “How do you know?”

“Um . . . I'll explain on the way.”

Wrapped in thick blankets, sleeping in the cradle Joe made for him, he looks so peaceful. So innocent. I pick him up gently. Even though Joe isn’t the father, he has always looked out for him. Protected him.

As I glance around in the faint light, I notice Joe has grabbed only one small bag.

“Where are we going?”

“Far away. Egypt,” he says.

Egypt? I clutch the baby to my chest as Joe snatches a few of his tools and the gifts we’d been given earlier and tosses them into the sack. Sure, the presents are valuable, but they’ll hardly cover a trip to Egypt and back.

Or maybe we wouldn’t be coming back.

“Egypt? Why Egypt? We don’t know anyone in Egypt. We’ll be all alone.”

“We'll be safe. Hurry!”

Safe from what? I think, as he grabs my hand and we stumble out into the chilly night. All I can think of is how this all started.

The Big News
I never suspected I was pregnant.

The day I got the news, I was totally surprised. Shocked! This pregnancy was about as unplanned as they come.

Not only was I surprised, I was scared. I had so many questions. What do I do now? Who could I talk to? Who could I trust? I kept thinking, I’m gonna have a baby, and I’m only 14 years old!I could just hear people talking, “Another pregnant teen. Another unwed mother. Just what we need. What is this country coming to?”

But I was married! Well, sort of. Joe and I had been engaged for a while — since I was about 12. Yeah, I’ll admit it’s a little young, but he was a good guy with a steady job working construction. And he loved me.

I knew how my friends would react to the news. Whispers. Rumors. Getting quiet when I walked by. Stepping aside to let me pass. Talking about me when I wasn’t around. I knew the names they’d use, the things they’d say. Who could blame them?

Where could I turn? I’d never felt so alone.

For starters, unmarried pregnant teens aren’t exactly what I’d call welcome in my town. Usually, they’d do their best to keep it quiet for as long as possible and then, when word leaked out there would be trouble. Big trouble.

When I was just a kid, there was this girl who was caught in bed with her boyfriend. Her parents didn’t waste any time with lawyers or lawsuits. They just gathered some neighbors, formed a little mob, dragged her into the street and killed her. Adultery isn’t taken lightly here.

I wondered how soon it would be until the neighbors found out about me.

No one was gonna believe my story. Everyone would think Joe and I had slept together, and that he got me pregnant. And since he’s 31, we’d both be in trouble. Everyone would blame him for taking advantage of me, say he should have known better, that it was his fault. Then the law would get involved, and who knows what would happen?

But the thing is . . . Joe and I had never had sex. Honest! Our relationship wasn’t physical at all. Oh, I know what you’re thinking: She was engaged to one guy and sleeping with someone else!

But I didn’t! It’s all so confusing. I wish there were an easy way out. Someone to talk to.

I guess I could’ve told Joe. “Hi. How was your day? Things have been a little slow here. By the way, Gabe stopped by. Yeah, the angel who appeared to Daniel about 600 years ago. He told me I’m gonna have God’s baby while I’m still a virgin. My son is gonna be King of the Universe. Other than that, it’s been a pretty boring afternoon.”

What’ll he think? What would you think? That I’d been eating rotten figs again?

All he’d have to do is say the word, and I’d be killed.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Joe is a really strong believer. I didn’t think he'd turn me in, but honestly I couldn’t expect him to stick with me, either. After all, it’s not his baby. He’d be ridiculed, mocked. Maybe worse. And the angel hadn’t even mentioned him. So, I assumed I’d be a single parent going it alone.

Even if he believed me, who else would? I mean, it doesn’t take that much effort to count the months and everyone would be thinking we were sleeping together before we got married, or there would always be questions about who the father really was. If our engagement did survive, it would ruin Joe’s career. We’d be outcasts forever. Despised. Alone.

So, I just stood there pinching myself thinking, OK, Mary, chill out. That was a real angel. You’re not imagining things. You’re not crazy. You are NOT crazy!

A True Friend
But who would believe me? I just wished I had someone I could talk to. Someone who could understand how a girl feels when —

Beth!

The angel had said something about my cousin Beth being pregnant as well. She and her husband had been trying for years to have kids. I kept wondering why God hadn’t answered their prayers and given them a child. But now! What had the angel said? “Nothing is impossible with God!”

I had to be sure. And I had to talk to someone who would be able to understand. So I grabbed a few things and headed to Beth’s place in the country. The trip took me about a week.

I knocked on her door.

“Hello? Anyone home?” The door was unlocked, so I walked in. “Beth, you are not gonna believe what happened to me last week!”

“Mary? Is that you?” You should have seen her face when I walked into the room.

The second she saw me, she started calling me the Messiah’s mama and stuff like that — really honoring me. It blew me away.

That was it. That moment I knew for sure everything was for real. I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I just burst out singing!

After Beth had her baby, I knew I needed to return to Nazareth. I had to tell Joe. Regardless of what he did, he had to know. And I wanted to be the one to tell him.

Uh, Joe . . .
I mean, think about it. One day I’m there, and the next I’m gone. No word. Nothing. Then, three months later I return home three months pregnant. I wanted to make sure I caught up with him before the rumors did.

I went straight to the construction site.

When he saw me, he threw down the saw and came jogging over to me calling out, “Mary, where have you been? I heard . . .” Then his smile suddenly faded. Maybe it was the look on my face. Or the way I stood. Or the stories he’d heard. He knew.

“Joe, let me explain.”

“Are you?”

I told him. And as I did, he lowered his eyes. I rambled on about God and angels and miracle babies, kings and thrones and impossible promises.

And then he looked at me. It wasn’t sadness in his eyes or even disappointment like I expected. He didn’t seem angry, just confused. I knew he was trying to believe me, to piece it all together. He wanted me to be telling the truth, but a storm of emotions passed over his face.

“It's true, Joe. It’s a miracle!”

“Mary, I need to think.” Then he turned and walked away. I couldn’t blame him. I’d needed three months myself to let the news sink in. I couldn’t expect him to be jumping off the walls the moment I arrived back home. But watching him walk back to work that day was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Would he come back? Or would I be facing the future alone?

That night I begged God to show him the truth, to make it clear to him.

He’s Really Here
That's when I started thinking about the name the angel told me to give my son. You’d spell it “J-E-S-U-S” or Joshua. But of course we spelled it “Y-E-S-H-U-A.” Like the warrior who replaced Moses as the leader of our people, and like the high priest during the time when they rebuilt our temple. The angel said he’d be a king! My son, the Warrior-Priest-King!

His name means, “Yahweh saves.” Yahweh! God’s name, the one He told to Moses, “I AM.” Or as my father told me as I was growing up, “The One who is always present.” I was carrying Yeshua — The God who is always present. Hadn’t Isaiah the prophet written that when the Messiah came He would be called, “Immanuel,” that is, “God with us”? It was true!

God with us.

The angel had said I’d be with child. How strange, when it’s really the other way around. The child would be withme.

***

As we grab the donkey to saddle her for our journey, Joe turns to me.

“Don’t be afraid, Mary. Our God will be with us.”

Our God will be with us — just as He was with Moses and Joshua and Daniel and Isaiah. Our God will be with us — the promise whispered through the centuries ever since the days of the prophets. Most people don’t believe in that stuff anymore.

But I do. As I look down into little Yeshua’s eyes, I realize God is already with us. To go anywhere we go, to face any troubles we face, to calm any fears we have. So that we never have to be alone again. Not ever.

And as I get onto the donkey and prepare for the trip, the child reaches out His hand for me and smiles.