The Boy Jesus and the Bottle of Myrrh (A Short Story)

What if Jesus did not instantly know who he was? Or what his gifts were? What if it dawned on him only gradually, as it dawns on each of us? Maybe his mother recited stories of the unusual events surrounding his birth. Maybe she set the beautiful boxes the three wise men brought him on a shelf in his room, and at night the young boy would take them down and hold them and wonder. – Jesus, CEO, by Laurie Beth Jones.

This about-to-end-Easter, let me share a story I wrote, in which I imagined Jesus Christ as a little boy and a teenager.

Well, sometimes, God gives us a little imagination for us to draw nearer to Him. And, before a story moves in the heart of its readers, it must first move the heart of the writer.

The reason why I wrote this comes from two Christmases ago, as we watched a lights show that told the story of the birth of Jesus, at a busy Greenhills bazaar in Manila, Philippines. Suddenly, I felt moved by this story of Jesus I’d heard a thousand times over. Recalled to my memory also was the quote mentioned above, and I began to wonder.

Next, I imagined what the boy Jesus, who was just starting to live His life, had felt when He realised what He was really living for on Earth. And, in the midst of that evening crowd, the revelation brought me to tears.

As I put my fingers to the keyboard to write the revelation down, the Holy Spirit then led me to a new realisation of the Gospel and the identity of Jesus, and embraced my heart with a new kind of love.

In sharing this story, I hope you’ll enjoy the same kind of treasure I had in the joy of loving Jesus.

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