The room was dark. I rolled over on my mat, but the moaning, the breathing, the smell of humanity packed into this small room was too much for me. Here we were, descendants of a great king and now we had descended to this new low. Herded like cattle to be counted by some ruthless ruler.
“At least I didn’t have to opt for a stable,” I thought as I lay on my back and stared into the darkness. It seemed heartless, yet somehow humane for the innkeeper to send that young couple to his stable. Afterall, she was pregnant and looked like the baby could come at any moment. At least they had a roof over their heads.
I lay there in that packed room, remembering the fatigue, the tired eyes in the faces of that young couple. I was sure they had traveled far, like all of us, to be counted.
“To be counted,” I whispered to my self, letting the words escape my mouth with my breath. I just wanted to matter to someone; we all wanted to matter. I just wanted to be hopeful for something better.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep amidst the groaning humanity that surrounded me. We were all packed into this small inn, brought together by fear of a king we did not believe in. At that moment I heard the faint cry of a baby. “It must be that young couple,” I thought. It bothered me that this child was born in a stable, yet I smiled at the thought of new life. In this, the least of all places, there was hope.
“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” – Micah 5:2
#WednesdayWalk Through the Bible — an exploration of what unknown people might have seen or felt when they witnessed the events in the Bible. This post is from the perspective of someone in the inn near the stable where Jesus was born as told in Luke 2:1-7 (NASB).
© 2019 CGThelen