At the beginning of December two years ago, my landlord came over and very regretfully told my husband and me that we had to move out because her son had lost his job and he and his family needed move into our picture-perfect guest house. And I was seven months pregnant! We were heartbroken. There were lots of real tears, but we totally understood. That night, through tears, I jokingly told my husband, “It’s December, I am great with child, and there is no room in the inn for us—we are the stinking nativity story!” After that, there was a lot of tears, prayers, house hunting, more tears, miracles, and packing; and we moved into our new place four days before our baby, Ruby, was born.
A month and a half later, Ruby was blessed with the opportunity to play the part of baby Jesus in the Mesa Easter Pageant. During the pageant, I would bring my tiny baby girl to the pageant, go backstage to meet the husband and wife playing Mary and Joseph, have a word of prayer with them, and then watch from the wings of the stage as Mary held my baby close, kissed her cheeks, and placed her gently in a manger. Joseph would then protectively watch over Ruby as Mary sang about the Christ child.
As I watched her care for the baby Jesus, I knew just a small bit of Mary’s anxiety and worry of having her first baby and not knowing where the baby’s first home would be. I am sure she prayed, as I did, of how she desperately wanted a place to go that was safe and warm. I am sure she pleaded to have a smooth delivery and a healthy baby. I am sure she was scared. But for me, and Mary, and you—the Lord always provides.