A glimpse...

The Impossible Dream

Zacharias finished up the last few days of his week of priestly duties and then set out southward from Jerusalem to travel the 19 miles home to Hebronas quickly as he could. The entire temple had been in a complete stir over his inability to speak, and he was eager to leave and not have to attempt any more explanations. Besides, he could hardly wait to tell Elizabeth what had transpired with Gabriel. He was anxious to see her face when she read the letter he had written for her. How he wished he could speak. It would be so much easier to explain everything that way. "Why did I ask Gabriel for a sign?" he mentally flogged himself. "Wasn't the appearance of an angel sign enough? But then again, this is the part of the proof. My not being able to speak means that it is happening just like Gabriel said it would."

Elizabeth rose from her bed earlier than usual on this morning. She had much to do. Zacharias was coming back, and she wanted their home to have the fragrance of a fresh cleaning, newly baked bread, and Zacharias' favorite stew. As she chopped with her knife vigorously up and down on the vegetables she had purchased the day before at the marketplace, she thought of how good it would be to have her husband home again. She missed him more than ever this time.
Zacharias was her life. Without children to occupy her time, she devoted most of it taking care of her husband and their home. Of course, she also served God in whatever capacity she could. She, too, was a descendant of Aaron, and it was considered commendable for priests to marry within their own family line so that the priesthood would remain pure. But being a woman, Elizabeth had always tried to walk in a righteous and holy manner, diligently keeping the commandments of the Lord. As a result, they both knew that her barren condition was not the result of sin. And so they did not allow this great disappointment to cloud their joy. Certainly they had shed many tears over it, and they continued to feel their loss, but they were not bitter. They put their energy into serving God and caring for others. As a result, they were loved by everyone who knew them.
As a woman, however, Elizabeth knew that being childless was looked upon by many as a curse. Some people even believed that barrenness meant God had withdrawn His favor. This reproach was difficult for Elizabeth to endure. But even more than that, not being able to raise her own child, and never having a son to carry on the family name or be a comfort to her and Zacharias in their old age, was always a hard reality. When Elizabeth finally let go of that burning desire for a child, it was as if she had experienced a death. Laid to rest years ago, it was an impossible dream now.
Elizabeth placed the hot bread on the cooling board and stirred the lentil stew. Zacharias was not due to arrive until sundown, which was at least another hour away. So she had her back to the door when it burst open and flooded the main room of their small house with light. She turned quickly to see who was there.
"Zacharias, you're home already?" she beamed happily as she laid down her wooden spoon and walked quickly to him with her arms outstretched. She hugged him and took the cloak from his shoulders, hanging it on a hook next to the door. Immediately she sensed that something was different.
"What's the matter, Zacharias? What is this strange new look in your eyes?" she questioned. "Why don't you speak?"
Zacharias pulled from his pocket the rolled-up piece of papyrus upon which he had written his letter and handed it to Elizabeth.
"A letter for me?" she exclaimed as she unrolled the top of it. "From you?" She looked up at him incredulously. " What does all of this mean?"
He gestured for her to sit down, which she did, and he took a seat next to her. She read silently for a moment and then looked up at him suddenly.
"A son? For us? she exclaimed. "But we are... well...we're old."
Zacharias motioned for her to continue on. She read more quickly over his words and when she looked up again, tears spilled from her eyes and watered her cheeks in limitless measure.
"I've dreamed of giving you a son, Zacharias," she said softly. "And I thought I saw the death of that dream. But I do trust that all you've heard and seen are from God."
Zacharias put his hand on her arm and smiled. He thought of being with Elizabeth again in that same closeness they had known for years, but now with the hope and anticipation they had shared when they were young. It was almost too much happiness for him to endure.
Even if I could speak, I don't think I would at this moment, thought Zacharias. He struggled to control his own tears, but they came streaming down his face. He began to have thoughts he had not allowed himself to have for many years.
"Deep in my heart there was this ember of longing," said Elizabeth, drying her tears with her apron. "I guess it was kept warm by the flame of my own desire. It was a dream I held in secret, even though I yearned to hold it openly. It was fanned by my hope into a fire that burned to such heat I could no longer touch it. So I extinguished all that would keep it alive. I never told you, Zacharias, but that dream never died."
Zacharias caressed her hand and smiled.
"Oh, Zacharias, isn't it just like the Lord to invite us to put our dreams into His hands? Asking us to release our grip on them, to forever surrender our plans? And then, when He's certain it's not born of men, He calls for that fire to rekindle again. And He asks us to know with our hearts what we can't see with our eyes. It must be God when our dream never dies."
Zacharias nodded with full understanding. He took Elizabeth in his arms and embraced her tightly. She was as beautiful to him then as she had been as a young bride.
Within a few weeks, Elizabeth was certain she had conceived. She and Zacharias determined they would not say anything about this to anyone until it could no longer be hidden. They found, however, that although her condition could be concealed, their joy could not. They couldn't stop thanking God for bringing this new life where there had been no possibility of it before.
"The Lord has done this for me," Elizabeth marveled time and again. "He has looked on me kindly and heard all my prayers. He has taken away my shame, and I will no longer be looked upon as an object of pity. I thought my life was nearly over, and now I have a future I didn't think possible. And this child is a sign that the Messiah is coming. God has kept His promise."

Unable to disguise her emotions, Elizabeth's happiness overflowed noticeably in public.
"What has gotten into you, Elizabeth?" people often said when they saw her.
If only you knew, she thought and smiled broadly at them.