The Holy Family is travelling from Nazareth to Bethlehem, and we want to travel with them. We hope these letters, narrating the trip from St. Joseph’s perspective, helps all of us get ready for the journey, face the challenges that come our way, and, above all, prepare our hearts to welcome God, who makes Himself a Child for us.

 Download all six letters as an ebook: Joseph’s Journal (epub)

We have been walking for two days now. Today we passed through the Valley of Jezreel, the most fertile plain in northern Israel, under heavy winter rain. For the first time in several weeks, I’ve had time to reflect more carefully on my current situation.

I know that God does not make mistakes. He knows why He thought of me to care for Mary and the Child. But even so, I feel uneasy. Did I do right in bringing them to Bethlehem? Have I put them in danger?

I try not to dwell too much on my doubts. I remember that when I was a child, my father explained to me that we often get distracted by problems whose solutions do not depend on us and stop paying attention to those we could actually solve. That’s why, on the first day, I focused on finding a donkey or a mule for Mary among the merchants travelling with us. One of them, a man from Ein Karem named Eleazar, agreed to lend me one of his pack animals when he learned that Mary was related to Zechariah.

“This donkey has never carried a person, but I don’t think there will be a problem. I don’t understand, Joseph… What are you thinking, travelling with your wife in this condition?”

Frankly, I don’t understand it either. I have a knot in my stomach and hardly any appetite. Mary insisted that I eat several times today, and I did it only to please her. She is very good, and her trust in God means that she is still calm, but she was quieter than usual this afternoon.

I also asked several merchants whether they knew of any inn in Bethlehem where we might stay for the first few nights. The general answer was that there are several places, but the flow of travellers has increased because of the census, so no one knows which ones will have space for more guests. Another problem that I can’t resolve yet. I’m trying to leave it in God’s hands.

Tonight we are camping on the outskirts of Shunem. The name of the town brings to mind the story of the prophet Elisha. According to the Scriptures, a married couple welcomed him here, building a room in their own house so that he could spend the night. I mentioned it to Mary, who replied thoughtfully, “You’ll see, Joseph: God will find a place for us, too, when we arrive in Bethlehem.”

The night is cold, and the dampness of the valley makes it hard to stay warm. I helped Mary lie down near the fire we lit and gave her my cloak. I hope she can rest better. Although she hasn’t said so, I suspect she has not slept well in the last two nights. The donkey I got from Eleazar lay down near Mary, like it wanted to keep her company.

I am not quite sure what I am doing. Why would God have asked this of me? Could He not have found someone with more experience, greater financial resources, more connections?

I already know what Mary’s answer would be: she would tell me that God looks at the hearts of men and at their capacity to love, beyond their abilities or their successes. I only wish I could trust as she does, to have a little of her faith. That is what I ask of God today.

In the sky, the stars shine brightly. That star which appeared a couple of days ago seems to be following us, as if it were God’s gaze. On earth, the Mother of God sleeps beside a pack animal, guarding the greatest secret in the history of humanity, with a smile upon her lips.