Page 11 of Prince Tennyson


  This magnificent being told me not to be frightened by his greeting. As if that were even possible! And then he announced that I, Mary of Nazareth, would carry in my womb and give birth to God’s own Son—the very Son of the Lord God Jehovah. It was good that I was not a fainter.

  “He will be great,” the angel continued. “He will be called the Son of the highest, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David, and his kingdom will reign forever and ever.

  Naturally, I was still trying to figure out how I could possibly carry God’s baby in my womb. I may have been young and inexperienced, but I knew enough about the ways of life to realize that a woman must be intimate with a man to bear a child. And so I boldly asked the angel how this could possibly be so.

  “God’s Holy Spirit will come to you this night,” the angel said. “And God’s own Son will be planted within you.” And then he told me about my relative Elizabeth and how she too was going to have a baby. This was incredible news to me, since Elizabeth was already quite old and previously unable to have children.

  “Nothing is impossible with God!” the angel said.

  And so, right there in the garden, I bowed my head and said, “I am pleased to be God’s servant! Let it happen as you say.” Then the angel vanished quickly as he had come. I stayed there on my knees, eyes closed and head bowed, for a few moments as I pondered over all I had heard. Finally I opened my eyes, and there on the packed ground of the garden path I noticed a small flower seed. Now, most people would overlook such a tiny insignificant thing as a seed. But out of habit I immediately picked it up, tucked it into the little pocket I had sewn into my tunic specifically for that purpose, and then, remembering what had just transpired, I stood and looked around.

  At first I thought perhaps I had simply daydreamed this entire happening. But something inside my heart told me it was real. That very night it all occurred just as the angel had promised, and the next morning I knew that miraculously, just as a seed is planted in the mysterious darkness of the fertile earth, I now carried the seed of God’s own child within the secret depths of my body.

  Imagine my joy and bewilderment as I considered this phenomenon—so unbelievable, so amazing, so totally unheard of. I wondered what I should do next. Who should I tell? Or was I to keep this secret hidden within me for the time being.

  But from that moment on, I knew that my life would never be the same. I had no idea how all the things the angel had told me would come to pass, but I knew my journey had begun. And somehow I knew it would be up to God to get me to the final destination.

  Of course, I had no idea that the final destination would be this fearful and hopeless place where many of us huddle together in gloom and in doubt. I had no clue that in the end, my son would be publicly scourged like a common criminal, spat upon, and beaten almost beyond recognition. And as if that were not punishment enough—and punishment for what? I have asked myself again and again—he was brutally nailed on a cross where he was tortured for hours before he finally gave up his precious and sinless life. And for what? These are the silent questions that beat their fists upon my soul during this darkest of nights. But I must not heed their cries. For my son’s sake, I must not give in to despair.

  Melody Carlson ©Copyright 2012

  For more StoneHouse Ink titles go to http://www.stonehouseink.net

  Jenni James ©Copyright 2012

  All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  StoneHouse Ink 2012

  StoneHouse Ink

  Boise ID 83713

  http://www.stonehouseink.net

  First eBook Edition: 2012

  First Paperback Edition: 2012

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means for example, electronic, photocopy, recording without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Cover design by Fuji Aamabreorn

  Published in the United States of America

  StoneHouse Ink

 


 

  Jenni James, Prince Tennyson

 


 

 
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