Memories can surface when we least expect them to.  Sometimes we tuck them away knowing they have value, but just aren’t sure what that is until we need them the most. My mind was swimming of thoughts of my boy.

Those early days after his birth were filled with happenings that simply didn’t make any sense.  Like the visit of the Magi and their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  I couldn’t have comprehended their meaning then.  The gold a gift intended for royalty – the frankincense was the sweet smelling fragrance offered to God – the myrrh was used as an embalming spice for death.

There was the visit to the temple to present my son to God.  This dear, sweet, elderly gentleman was there to greet us.  He was so happy to see my child.  It was as if he had waited his whole life for him.  When he spoke these words to me, they seemed strange, but I stored them away, because I knew  they held great significance.

He said, “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against,  so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

I remembered my cousin, Elizabeth’s greeting, when I went to visit her.  ““Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And why is it granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?  For lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy.”

I thought about the little boy, helping his step dad craft something from a piece of wood.  The curls of planed wood and saw dust clinging to the curls on his head – the blistered hands – the bloodied fingers.

Now, as things were starting to unfold, I was beginning to realize why those memories were tugging at my heart strings.  They were preparing me for the difficult road ahead.