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 four days now. We are following the course of the Jordan River, heading toward Jericho. From the camp, I can hear the water rushing past, mingling with the voices of the merchants passing by.

Mary is sleeping. After several sleepless nights, she has finally managed to fall asleep, overcome by exhaustion. I haven't gotten much rest either; I wake up over and over again during the night, just to make sure she’s all right.

Yesterday, as we passed through the city of Beisan, I stopped to watch the quiet lives of the families living there. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what we left behind in Nazareth. I may have been distracted by the novelty of the first few days of the journey, but now I confess that I’m starting to feel a quiet sadness. Everything I’d planned for my life was there in Nazareth: my work, my friends, the Child’s cradle already prepared, Mary’s family…

Have you ever felt alone? Do you know what it is like to miss your family or the city where you grew up? I know that I am never truly alone, that God goes with me, but even so, there is a constant, hammering pain in my chest.

What is hardest now is not knowing whether we will ever return home. I hope we can go back once the census is over, but even then, it will take time to gather the money necessary to travel again.

I do not know whether to speak of this with Mary. I want to, but I worry about making her suffer. She is afraid, too, I know, although her absolute trust in God gives her immense inner strength. It is curious: God has asked me to protect Mary and the Child, but most of the time I feel that they are the ones protecting me. Mary is the bravest person I know, and in her eyes, I find the faith that I still lack.

This morning, while we were breaking camp, Mary spoke with an older woman who was travelling in our caravan with her only son. The woman, interested in our route and the reasons for our journey, was especially moved when she noticed my wife’s pregnancy.

“Being a mother is a thrilling adventure,” she said to her, “but it is also very hard, because your happiness comes to depend on that of your children. When they suffer, you suffer even more.”

Mary did not reply, but her eyes shone with the pure hope of a woman looking forward to motherhood. I’ve seen a similar look in the eyes of other young mothers, back home, and I’ve been thinking about that woman’s words all day. God asked me to care for Mary and the Child, yes, but He did not stop there: He’s chosen me to be the father of his family here on Earth. I already love Jesus and Mary with my whole self, and that love will carry me to the very end of the road, even when it involves suffering.

I believe I’ve found the secret to overcoming my fear of uncertainty: my love for my family makes everything worthwhile. All I can ask for now is for God to make my heart bigger and bigger.