MY JOURNEY TO BETHLEHEM

Bethlehem - You are a small town on a hillside in Israel. Although you are the least among the princes of praise, you have become the birthplace of a King – not just any king, mind you, but the King of Kings.

In my heart of hearts, I longed for a Bethlehem journey. I searched the heavens for that star to shine upon the cradle of rebirth in my soul – to guide me like the shepherds of old – to lead me to a stall as it were – a feeding place – to a Table in the wilderness of my devastated dreams and hapless hopes; to relief and release from failures and fears – to restoration.

Like Naomi, I had heard the Voice within – coaxing, enticing me to leave my impoverished, perilous state – my lost-ness. I would wrap my heart, bruised and broken though it be; and carry it to a cave if I must. It was an enigma to me – how had I been so deceived? How could I have believed to find fulfillment in this, my restless estate? How could I have hoped to carve for myself a pathway to peace?

Now, like David, I thirsted for water from the wells of Bethlehem. I would go; I would follow the nudging that was His Voice – that I might break my alabaster box and pour out my longing upon the only One who could stitch the severed places in my soul.

I would journey afar with my gift. I would bear its weight upon my shoulders, and then place it there at journey’s end, though with halting hesitation, to be sure. The gift-wrap that once glittered with pride, and enshrouded my soul, now sparkled with salt-laced tears. I would place my gift there, at my journey's end – my journey to Bethlehem, to Bread, to a full-blown, breakfast buffet!

But wait! What of the journey itself? Is it not a dangerous course? Are there not heartaches along the way? From whence will come the persistence and endurance to make it to the end – in this, my journey to Bethlehem?

I know! I will look to the wise men for answers. They showed up mysteriously – and disappeared just as mysteriously. These “wise men” made a journey of faith … traveling from their homeland, wherever it was, to Bethlehem, to find the most precious gift that God ever gave humankind – the gift of His only begotten Son.

In light of that, of what value could the gift of my ravished soul possibly be? My journey, too, has been long and tedious. Like the journey of the saints of old, I wish to taste for myself – to come to this Loaf of Bread and partake of His nature – to experience the reality of who Jesus is. Our pilgrimage, we find to our amazement, is not one that ends at Bethlehem – but rather, one that begins there. As we partake of Him – the Christ-child, God-Man, the crucified Jesus, the now resurrected Lord – we too will become broken bread to feed the hungry in a house of bread.

Will you ride with me? My camel is bowed to the ground waiting for our ascent. The journey is risky, yes – but such excitement and anticipation – such exuberant joy and intrigue awaits those who climb the Christmas camel and take the journey to Bethlehem!

 -  Penny Smith