Lost

"You want a story? I'll tell you a story! I'll tell you a good story! A story I've never told anyone before!"

Luke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Mary had suddenly taken on a more lively tone than before. When she was talking about the birth of her son, she had been rather quiet, reflective, but then he asked about what Jesus was like growing up. Did she have any stories about those days? That's when she suddenly started to perk up.

"He was twelve. Just twelve, and we were headed to Jerusalem for the festival. It was to be Jesus' first time, his 'coming-of-age,' if you will. He would be an 'adult' after this. So we headed out in the caravan from Nazareth toward Jerusalem. Lots of relatives, friends. Lots of singing, celebration. We were really looking forward to it.

"I kept telling Joseph to keep an eye on Jesus, because he had a tendency to run off. Jesus, I mean. Not Joseph. So I told Joseph to watch him, make sure he stayed with the group. 'He's fine, Mary,' Joseph told me. 'He's an active boy. Let him run.' All right, I told him, but if he gets lost, it's your responsibility! Joseph just smiled. He had such a great smile, but it sure could be aggravating sometimes."

Mary stopped and took a breath. Luke started to say something, but Mary wasn't done. She started in again before he could say anything. "So we arrived at Jerusalem, and we had a great festival. It was wonderful, and really left us feeling energized. But, like with any trip, when it was time to go home, we were ready. 'Make sure everything's packed up,' Joseph said. 'We leave early in the morning.'

"And so we did. We headed out just before the sun rose, all of us. We walked and talked and shared memories of the festival—we were having a great time. That evening, when we got to our stopping place for the night, I started to fix dinner and asked Joseph, 'Where's Jesus?'

"He smiled that smile of his. 'Oh, I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Where did you see him last?' Well, the truth is, I hadn't seem him at all that day. Neither had Joseph. That's when the panic started to settle in. We asked around, but no one had seen him. Then I realized: Joseph had lost the Son of God!"

Luke looked at her quizzically. "Joseph had lost...?"

Mary laughed. "It's my story. I can tell it any way I want to!" Luke nodded, and Mary went on. "So we started back right away, headed back to the city. Traveling at night is both dangerous and tiring—especially after we'd already walked all day—but adrenaline spurred us on. We had lost Jesus. We had left him in the city! When we got back to the city, we didn't stop. Even though we were exhausted, we kept looking. Every place we had been, every place we had celebrated, we looked. No Jesus, anywhere.

"The last place we went was, of course, the first place we should have stopped. There he was, in the Temple, sitting in the circle surrounded by the teachers of the law. And you know what was most amazing? THEY were asking HIM questions. Not the other way around. He was the one answering questions. We just stood there with our mouths open until he saw us. When he did, he got up and came over to us. I told him he had worried us sick, but he just looked up at us with those big round eyes. 'Didn't you know I would be in my Father's house?' And then he took Joseph's hand and we walked out together."

Mary paused, and seemed to look off in the distance. "His Father's house. That place was always important to him, and he always called it that. His Father's house. He often disagreed with what was happening there, but it was still important to him. He wanted to make sure everyone was welcome, that everyone had a place to pray. His Father's house..." Her voice trailed off, then she smiled. "Anyway, that's the story of how Joseph lost Jesus."


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