The little boy I watched grow from a tiny, helpless infant was now a strong , young man with confidence in His step, determination on His face and love in His heart.  It was difficult to understand how such an ordinary child could change the world – but the words of the angel, which I had tucked away in my heart, now made sense.

“And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.”

He was like any other little boy.  He scuffed His knees, experienced hunger, cried and ached from hard work.  He had a great desire to learn and spent any spare moments studying, but always remained obedient and respectful to us..

We traveled to Jerusalem each year for the Passover Feast.  This was another time for celebration and homecoming along with a reminder of the days when our forefathers were delivered from bondage..  Other family members made the pilgrimage so we were sure everyone would be safe.

Our boy was nowhere to be found.  Of course He was old enough to fend for Himself, but my heart was sick until we discovered Him exactly where I knew He’d be – in the temple.  The teachers were amazed at His wisdom and understanding of God’s Word.

When we confronted Him, He reminded us that He had to be in His Father’s house. I realized that He no longer was the little child I carried.  He was now a young man, following in His true Father’s footsteps.

It was then that the floodgates of memories opened.  Everything that had been foretold about Him was now coming to fruition. Anticipation and fear gripped my heart.