style="font-size:15px;"> Yeshua shakes his head, “I do not believe she knows of this. Besides, Ima does not venture far from the house without Abba. She is not like you, my little nature priestess!”
I smile at teasing. “So much has happened since our marriage. I have always been aware of things that perhaps others have not, but the angels and the animals…it is as if I am remembering something that I have forgotten.”
With a tender kiss he gazes into my eyes, “I know, Beloved. Since our first night together my own awareness has increased dramatically.” Our mouths linger, tasting the sweetness of one another before he continues, “At first I thought this intense enlightenment was sexual. But there is something more, for I experience openings sometimes when I but think about you.”
“Yeshua, I believe that it is love which is the spark for our awakening.”
“Yes, falling in love with you, I am becoming my true self.”
Teoma’s delicious supper of roasted quail braised with olive oil, basilica, oregano, and crushed pepper berries, we are sated. Studying with the Essenes, I have learned much about herbs for ailments, but little about cooking.
“Teoma, that was delicious! Will you teach me how to cook? I can teach you about the healing herbs.”
“Whatever you wish, Mary.” He looks over at Yeshua, who laughs. What’s so funny?
“Nothing, love, you look tired, Go ahead, I’ll be right in.”
Once in the tent, I realize how soiled I am. Before a doused fire, the men speak in hushed tones, but I cannot escape Teoma’s sharp eyes. “Be careful, Mary. You may not have the same way with snakes as you do with donkeys and cats.”
I hurry down to the creek to be greeted by my steed from the far bank. Praying to release the barrier that has protected me these past six months, I wash the dust from our journey before returning to the tent. I sit cross-legged on a pile of blankets and close my eyes. Hmm…what next?
Conscious of my breath, I am mesmerized by the familiar purple teardrop slowly oozing throughout my being, until I am sitting in a violet egg of hayye. After unraveling the gossamer light setting my womb, the flowers, and the eggs free, I am guided to wait for Yeshua. Soon my husband stands in the doorway, his tunic sticking to his damp body.
Stripping, he joins me, “Is this part of the preparation?”
“Yeshua, let’s invite the spirit of our child to come to us.” When a golden hayye emerges to hover around us, my husband takes me in his arms.
Never have I felt so comfortable in Yeshua’s embrace, as if destiny is being fulfilled. Beginning with tender kisses that grow more intense in longing, his insistent hands take all of me into his awareness. The elestial quartz within my navel glows intensely.
His love for me seems more than I can bear, until he meets me beyond my core. At the final release, I begin to cry. Yeshua is alarmed until he realizes the tears are of joy, not pain. Our energies merge, his silvery white aura into my deep violet hue until the golden hayye of our child nestles within my pelvis.
Winter sweeps across the plains of Esdraelon to chill Nazareth ridge. Lighting my silver menorah each night in the small window of our chambers feels strange, for Chanuka is not recognized in this house. Perhaps if we had a home of our own, we might merge our traditions. I have not seen my family since the wedding so Yeshua invites them for the winter solstice. To my delight, Martha is due within half a moon cycle of me. While Abba congratulates our husbands, Ima draws me aside.
“You look thin, Mary. Don’t they feed you?”
“Of course, Ima.”
“Their Essene diet is too sparse for your royal Hasmonaean blood. I will send fresh beef and lamb.” Ima clucks her tongue. “They do have a separate table to prepare meat?”
“Yes, Ima.”
“Very well. Now tell me how you are feeling?”
Smiling, I reassure her. “Wonderful—especially since the new moon of Cheshvan when I first felt her move.”
“So early? Are you sure it is not twins? You are too petite to carry twins.” Bristling, she takes charge. “There is a fine midwife experienced with delicate pregnancies in Capernaeum, I shall have her come to attend to you.”
“Thank you, Ima, but Yeshua desires to deliver our child.”
“What!” Fanning herself, she takes a hasty seat. “Men know nothing of childbirth. This is unheard of…”
“But he said that his father delivered all of Miriam’s children.”
Drained of color, Ima motions for a servant to bring some wine. “I must talk to Miriam. Syrus!”
While Abba tends to Ima, I take comfort from my sister. “Mary, how do you know the baby is a girl? I have yet to feel movement.”
I lay my hand over her womb, to be greeted vigorously. My sweet daughter responds with her flitting golden light to his healthy turquoise hayye. Martha places her hand over mine, “What is it, Mary? Is my child well?”
I kiss her mouth, “He is wonderfully vital. Eleazer has very strong seed.”
Giggling, my sister hugs me to her, our bellies touching. The babies leap toward one another, dancing about our wombs in delighted salutations. Pressing our foreheads together, we glance down. Martha gasps, “Mary, I can feel him.”
Eleazer rushes over and hugs us both. Kissing first Martha and then me, he cries, “Miracles occur in this house. Yeshua, we are truly blessed to have such wonderful wives.”
Yeshua raises his cup of wine, “May we share many more moments like this as our wives and children delight in each other’s company.” Even Ima joins the rest of the family in a cup of wine to seal the blessing.
***
Working with his hands, tilling the earth, tending the plants, harvesting the grain, and finally creating a meal usually brings much pleasure, but Teoma’s enthusiasm is effectively tempered by Saada, who stands with arms crossed over her ample bosom as he teaches Mary to bake. She greeted him with such fervor when he came home to the lush hills of Galilee last month that he almost wished he had stayed in the company of the rebels.
For five months, the zealot commanders used his Roman appearance to gather information from the legionaires. Rome’s weakness lay in the Emperor’s sickbed. Chronically ill since boyhood, Augustus took a turn for the worse after Tiberius returned from securing the territories north of the Black Sea. His tribunal powers officially reinstated, Tiberius rules the empire while his stepfather wastes away.
Hands slick with oil, Mary fashions dough into a variety of shapes—crescent moons, braided loaves, even tiny animals. Knowing how sensitive she is to her mother’s strict observance of the halacha, he teases, “What is this, a pig?”
“Of course not!” With a look of consternation wrinkling her fine brow, she sprinkles the little dough creature with herbs. “Can’t you see it’s a lamb?”
Repressing
