How Far to Bethlehem?

by Norah Lofts

Balthazar dimly realised that though this god of the Jews offered no remedy for the contracting fingers, he might offer some remedy for the apprehension with which he himself regarded the future and also, almost equally important, something to fill the emptiness within him. When Eliezer said, ‘In my heart’, Balthazar had understood, because his need was the need of all men, all the temple-frequenters, the sacrifice-offerers, the need to feel that somebody, somewhere saw you as an individual and cared.

‘Don’t you think perhaps, that that is how God wanted it to be? We’re the human part; the ordinariness is our contribution; all we have to contribute, really. I fix my mind on that, Joseph. He’s to be born an ordinary human child and how could that be if all the time his parents were walking about thinking that their child was the Son of God?’

It seemed to Joseph that he was always falling out of the hand of God, falling, falling, only to be caught again in the hand of God. So, standing there, he uttered a brief prayer, ex tempore—Lord God of my fathers, I do believe, help me when next I doubt.