The Wise Man’s Woman
I watch the road, and watch road, and watch the road. Each day I parse the billows of dust from the east. This dust cloud too big to be my Wise Man and his caravan - it’s likely just a herd of animals on their way to greener pastures- and that dust cloud too little -or maybe it is a lone messenger sent on ahead with news ? It’s never him. Not yet.
Each morning I wake with the dawn hoping this day will be the day. Each day I join the organized chaos of my household of children and servants and visitors with one eye on the nearest window. Each evening when the house is quiet, I take my Wise Man’s scrolls up to the rooftop to read by candlelight while watching the moonlit road, and when I can’t sleep at night I sneak up to the terrace to gaze eastward with hope.
Hope that fades a little more every day. Months it’s been since I’ve seen the smiling face of my husband Balthazar. So long that he missed little Zibbi turning from a round baby girl into chattering child, so long that he missed his namesake Zarzar growing into his full name, “can you call me Balthazar, Mama? I’m not a child anymore!” At 8 he still is a child, but he’s growing up too fast, And his father is missing that. Balthazar had been gone so long that he has never met our youngest child, a smiley round faced boy of 3 months, waiting for his father to come meet him and give him a name. Balthazar has missed months of our lives, a whole season. I had to oversee and organize the harvests myself in his absence. And now cold weather is coming on, and I worry about him travelling in this chill; he will become ill as he does at the onset of every winter. And I worry that my wise old father, who taught Balthazar everything he knows about the star signs and prophecies, is failing and will not live long enough to see him return with the news of fulfillment of this most strange mission.
On the days when I start fearing the worst things that might have happened to Balthazar and his colleagues, I go back to the writings he left behind. The ancient religious ones that told him of a King who would come and the scientific ones that track the movements of the stars. I search the night skies for a trace of the new star that I saw so clearly those many months ago. I remember the excitement of that night when Balthazar tumbled into the sleepy midnight house practically bubbling with fear and excitement. I remember how he pulled me from my sleep as I shook in terror, certain the only reason to be woken up in the deepest part of the night was that something horrible must have happened, and then how I calmed in his arms as he pointed to the sky. And I saw it. A star he said it was, “a new star!” he practically shouted, but it looked nothing like those other distant wavering nightlights in the sky. This celestial brightness was alive, warm, vibrant not flickering, sparkling like nothing my eyes had ever seen. Alive. “It must be an omen!” He chattered excitedly and then continued to study it while I shuffled back to bed.
From that night until this one that star has consumed and transformed our lives. Balthazar, my father and their comrades studied that star for days that became weeks that stretched into months. By night they watched the sky, and by day they studied all the writings in all their collections. They argued about its significance and meaning and if they should take some kind of action. Was a god smiling on us or frowning ? Was this a warning ? A curse ? A blessing ? A sign ? No one knew. One day my father, weary from weeks of study spoke to an elder of the Jews in the city nearby. “Have you seen this strange new star?” my father asked. “I haven’t seen it,” the elder responded. “Unlike you scholars, I like to stay inside my home at night.” He laughed a little self righteously. “But if there is a spectacular new star, I can tell you of its meaning. This star is the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy. If this star is in the sky, our Messiah must be born at last !” Now, we aren’t particularly fond of those strange-practicing Jews. We don’t see things the same way. Our ways of star signs and omens are superior and much more trustworthy than their ways of following the whims of a single strict God. But months of study had led our scholars nowhere and they were desperate. They took the elders writings and commenced their studying all over again. This time, something was different. Balthazar came away from each meeting with a new light of excitement in his eyes, the arguments morphed into agreements, and there was restfulness instead of the chaos of the last months. I don’t hold much with those Jewish teachings, but something about this one felt true. Strangely, it felt alive, just like the star. Alive. That feeling of truth and life started a whole journey for our family. Balthazar left to follow a star and I was left to guide the household. I watched the star leave, fading each night, until it was only a little brighter than the other stars, and then one night I couldn’t pick it out amid the thousands of sparks in the sky. That was the night I started losing hope……………
“Madame, madame,” someone interrupts my fearful musings. “A messenger has arrived with news of your husband.”
And so he has. My husband will be home tonight. My head hears the words but my heart is still somewhat afraid. I will not rest until I see his healthy smiling face.
Balthazar is home !
He arrived 10 days ago on the coldest night of the year, in the shiny blessing of the full moon. Now come and I will repeat the stories he brought with him. There’s so much to tell.
They travelled for weeks, did my Balthazar and his comrades. They were well stocked with provisions and gold coins but the journey was difficult. A vicious sandstorm delayed them for many days. They lost a camel when it fell into a deep hole and broke its leg.
They followed the star. The star came up every day sometime after midday and whenever they could they kept riding toward it. Balthazar said he couldn’t see it through the sandstorm and he was afraid once the storm cleared that it was gone. But it was right where they’d last seen it, blazing a beacon to them and anyone else who cared to follow. They met many people along their journey and told everyone about their mission. Many folks told them they would set things in order and take the journey themselves as soon as possible.
They took a detour through the city of Jerusalem that proved to be unnecessary and ultimately dangerous. There they spoke to the reigning king to inquire of him where the Baby King was born. The reigning king had not heard of a new King. Our Wise Men hurried away from that place with a feeling of discomfort, fearing they had stirred up jealousy in the Kings heart. And, indeed, they had. The fear of this wicked King haunts Balthazar. Soon after the Wise Men left the area they got news that the king had gone on a killing spree to try eradicate his new competitor. Balthazar and I are holding our little ones a little tighter at this thought.
We haven’t gotten to the best part of the story yet ! There’s two really good parts, actually.
The first was finding the Messiah. One day the star stopped moving, so our Wise Men did too. They stopped near the edge of a small town, Bethlehem. They stayed for hours. When the star did not move further they pitched their tents. Some went to find lodging within the town. The next day the star was still still. “But hasn’t it moved lower?” They said to one another ? “Doesn’t it see to halo that row of broken houses, the little crooked house in particular on the hill yonder?” And indeed it did. But to what end? Surely the Messiah wasn’t living in this squalor. And so they spend a restless sleepless night in discussions about where to go next. Some of the group decided to reverse back to Jerusalem to see if perhaps they had missed the Messiah there. Balthazar, Gaspar and Malchior decided to scour Bethlehem for the Hold Child. They spent all that day walking the streets searching. At sunset they returned to their tents, eyeing the star still casting its glow on the homeliest house on the hill. They decided to visit the house.
And that is where they found the Messiah. The King of the Jews. A wee child with an aura of peace. They were welcomed into the house by young nervous parents and showed to the room (the only room in the house really) where the Child played. “He was no ordinary baby, mind.” They told us. “Of course he appeared as one, but His eyes held the wisdom of ages, the Hope of us all. There was something about Him that exuded comfort and peace and demanded reverence. As He turned to face us, we all fell on the floor to worship without intending to do so . He was that powerful.” Their voices were full of wonder, their eyes full of Hope.
And the second of the two good parts I mentioned is about a dream and the angry King Herod of Jerusalem. He had asked our Wise Men to return to him with news of the Mew King. Not wanting to anger him, they fully planned to do so. They were afraid to do as he asked but they were more afraid not to do as he asked. One morning as they camped just outside Jerusalem on their way to tell their story to King Herod, our Wise Men each awoke with a similar story.
“ I had a dream last night,” said Malchior.
“Eh, me too,” interrupted Balthazar, “and I’m certain it was a sign from the Baby himself.”
“My dream was clear: we are to return home without speaking to King Herod,” added Gaspar.
They all had the same story of the same dream. They were to return home as quickly as possible without stopping in Jerusalem. Their lives but mostly importantly the life of the Baby Messiah were at risk. They had to listen. Now, many a murky dream has been dreamed by these Wise Men and they have assayed to attribut deep various and random meanings to each shadowy vision that changes with each retelling. But never have they all had identical visions with a crystal clear meaning. This only solidified in their minds that they had met the Most Powerful of all Gods. Only a Sovereign God can send messages this clearly.
Balthazar is changed somehow since his journey. He’s softer and more present than he was before he left us. His beliefs no longer change with the star signs. He has no doubt that he saw the God of all Gods as a child in a tumble down house in Bethlehem. And I, seeing his unwavering faith, am compelled to relegate my beliefs of star signs and omens to a Lower prominence in my life. I have no doubt that our lives have been changed by a Child in a tumble down house in Bethlehem.
