Lyrics from, Wind Beneath My Wings.
I have a confession to make. I think I enjoy the days after Christmas as much if not more than Christmas Day itself. As I write this I am savoring the peace that surrounds me. The lights from our Christmas tree are gently glowing, and Christmas carols are playing softly in the background. Too often the days leading up to Christmas find me frantically trying to complete the myriad of things that come with this season. And so it was that I found myself outside one cold night, hurrying across my yard as I worked to complete one more task. Suddenly my eyes rested on the nativity set displayed in our yard, and I abandoned any thought of those tasks still undone. I found myself drawn to the statue of Joseph. Ice hung from his face as well as the lantern held in his hand. Quietly he crouched protectively over the baby lying in the manager. Quietly he held the ice covered lantern providing light in the cold dark night. Quietly he shouldered the incredible responsibility of safe guarding this child who Christians believe to be the son of God.
As a child I was taught the lessons and stories of my faith. One was the story of the Holy Family's flight into Egypt. There was always the same kind of illustration that went with this story. The Blessed Mother was pristine as she sat on a donkey with the Baby Jesus cradled in her arms. Joseph walked next to them, placidly leading the donkey through the countryside. All in all it was a tranquil picture. Then a few years ago I visited the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. There was a statue there which gave a much different version of their flight, and I daresay a much more accurate depiction of it. It shows the exhaustion they must have felt as they ran for their lives.
Once again my eyes were drawn to Joseph. He is slumped down as he tries to rest. What you cannot see in this photo is that his eyes are not completely closed. He is on guard even as he attempts to regain some strength in order to push on to Egypt and safety.
As a child I felt sorry for Joseph. It did not seem fair that this man who shouldered so much responsibility got so little attention. As an adult I understood the reasons for it, but it still seemed that he did not receive his just due.
As I reflected on his faith and humility I began to recognize similar people in my life. For every person who returns home from some adventure or service there is another who picks him up at the airport and stands by as the traveler receives attention and accolades. For many gifted photographers who will receive well-earned recognition for the images they capture there are others who follow close behind shouldering a photo bag filled with equipment. In my mind they are "Joseph-ing." They are the foster parents and step-parents who coach the ball games or hug away the tears of a child. They are the teachers who encourage a child struggling to learn and patiently explain the lesson again and again. They are the doctors who sit with a patient going through a difficult treatment quietly supporting them rather than going home to their own families. They are those same doctors' loved ones who greet them with understanding and love as they arrive home very late and emotionally drained. They are the steel workers who work the extra shifts because their child is starting college and the tuition needs to be paid. From the shadows they are stepping up and tirelessly working on a myriad of tasks all so that someone they believe in, have faith in, can shine.
Recently one of the "Josephs" in my life taught me a profound lesson about humility in a very simple way. We were gathering around the table for a holiday meal, each of us randomly selecting the place where we would sit. As this person approached the table there were few seat options left. The closest open chair was at the head of the table. "Joseph" looked at me with a quiet smile and rejected that place. He did not want the added attention it might bring. He quietly chose another less conspicuous place.
We hear much about gift giving this time of year. Christians celebrate the gift of Jesus to the world. Joseph dedicated his life to raising and protecting this child. In doing so his life became a gift to us as well. It was a gift given in the truest sense of the word. It came from his heart, and he expected nothing in return.
The "Josephs" in my life give from their hearts. Their presence is a quiet breath of air. They are the quiet winds beneath their loved ones' wings. The quiet winds that allow others to soar.
Thank you, "Joseph," for lifting me up and encouraging me to fly.
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