I Can’t Think of a Title

It occurred to me in the middle of the night that La Quebrada and Guadalupe both refer to ravines.  What does that mean, cosmically?

It also occurred to me that Joseph was a GREAT husband.  When he had his back up against the wall – his betrothed advised him she was preggers by the Holy Spirit – he planned to quietly (and that is an important word) divorce her.  And then he had a dream which convinced him otherwise.  Obviously, the Holy Spirit sold him on the idea of taking on a pregnant fiancée.  Of taking on a kid that wasn’t his.  Some dreams really do come true.

Joseph fulfilled all his duties, which I am sure cost him personally.  Rather than having Mary give birth in his familial home, they were consigned to the stinky stable.  Then they had to get the heck out of dodge because there was a price on their collective heads.  Before that, he and Mary took the baby to the temple and offered up two doves, which is all they could afford.

You don’t hear much about Joseph after he and Mary left Jerusalem without their twelve year old.  They assumed he was in the parade of people leaving, having fun with friends on their way home.  If you have ever lost track of a child, you can imagine how freaked out they were.  You don’t hear about any fingerpointing – “I thought he was with you?!”

In any event,  let’s give it up for husbands who go along with the program, stand by their women, and are good dads.  Joseph gambled and he hit the jackpot.  I’ll bet his heavenly pay out was HUGE.

Herewith concludes Day 23?  I am losing track of time …






Leave a comment

Filed under Life

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s