It had been a long and difficult journey. But Our Lord, being Our Lord, was never one to focus on lengths of time. Amounts of pain. Degrees of boredom. Our Lord, although being born with the same capacity as any human to have such feelings, had just taken it, just as we all wish we might be able. To.

And that very human emotion of pride in his achievement tried to rise from his stomach through his throat and into his head, but our Lord was ready for that too. He brushed it away as easily as we might brush some apples from a card table.

Our Lord knocked on the door, heavy, studded with shining bolts. A servant, typical in appearance of one from this Dark and Distant Continent, opened the door. The man, immediately sensing Greatness from this Visitor, dispensed with the usual screening procedures and ushered Our Lord through many corridors and rooms, each one more adorned than the next. Finally they reached the throne room.

The King stood and bowed. He knew straight away who it was, even if the last time he had beheld Our Lord, Our Lord had been but a new babe.

“Our Lord,” the King said. “Is it Our Lord or My Lord?”

Our Lord said nothing.

“Because when you’re not around we refer to you as Our Lord. But when you’re here Í want to call you My Lord. But I’m scared that sounds like I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Our Lord finally spoke.

“You may call me My Lord.”

The King looked at the package Our Lord was holding.

“And now ,My Lord, I must say, I am far too humbled that you should bear gifts. For when I brought you a gift many years ago, it was never my expectation that you should one day bring me a gift in return. Your very existence, My Lord, is all the gift I shall ever need.”

Our Lord, for the first time, looked uncomfortable.

“Yes, on this.” He opened the package just enough for the king to see its contents.

The King’s eyes widened.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just…I don’t think it suits me. Like it’s beautiful myrrh, and obviously cost a great deal.

The King said nothing.

“I’m so sorry. I’m only doing this because I think you’re great, and if it was from almost anyone else, I’d just keep it and not say anything.”

“No, I’m sorry, I just thought you’d like it.”

“I do like it, I really do. It’s just, I can’t imagine myself using this myrrh. Oh, I feel awful. You obviously went to so much trouble.”

“No, I mean yes, I did. Like if I’m honest, I really was so sure you’d like it.”

“I know, I know. Oh I feel really bad now.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just get you the myrrh you want. You want a different one. I’ll get you that. So what kind do you want?”

“Well I don’t want to be too specific, I’d still like you to pick it out. It’s from you, it should reflect you, you know?

“I’ve already given you the one that reflects me. This is the one I thought was perfect. You’re gonna have to help me here.”

“Well I can’t really be any more specific. Umm…Just not…”

-“This one. Yeah, great, so you basically want any myrrh that isn’t this one. You don’t care, as long as it’s not the one I picked.”

“You’re not making this easier at all. Like can you imagine how hard it is coming back to you thirty years later to return a gift? I thought you’d appreciate my honesty.”

“Well I don’t. You couldn’t just accept the gesture and re-gift it to someone else? I wouldn’t know and I’d feel good, and you’d know I’d made an effort. I wasn’t gonna see you again and ask you ‘How’s the myrrh going?’ and put you on the spot cos you’d given it to someone else. As if we were gonna see each other again. Like, what kind of mind comes all the way back thirty years later, My Lord, and gives bloody myrrh back. It’s just…I don’t get it.”

“This was such a bad idea coming here….Look I could have easily given it to some poor people or whatever but I just thought you’d see it as a gesture of friendship me coming all this way to level with you about this gift I want a different one of. And, hey look, you were in the ballpark. You got me myrhh! It’s just not quite right.”

“Not quite right? In your own words it’s exactly wrong. ‘Any myrrh but the myrrh you picked out,’ is what you said.”

“You bloody forced me to say that! Making me be all specific and everything. Couldn’t you just leave it at ‘I had something different in mind.’?”

The King thought for a moment.

“So did you take back the gold and frankincense?”

“No,” our Lord sighed

“So they were just right.”

“I spose so.”

“Perfect?”

“Alright, perfect, you made me say it.”

“Great, so I was the only one who was way off, the other two kings got it just right.”

“It was probably a fluke.”

“Two flukes. Probably two flukes. Well this is what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna come to the shop and tell the guy who still works there that you want a different myrrh to the one I picked out for you.

Our Lord’s head dropped. He  knelt and prayed:

“Father in Heaven, if there is any way you can take this ordeal away from me, you know, maybe just turn this myrrh into one you know I’d like….”

-“Just make it different to this one!” yelled the King, looking upwards.

Our Lord and the King stared at the package. Nothing happened. Our Lord stood up, speaking heavenward.

“It’s always the hard way with you, isn’t it, Father? Everything’s a lesson. Or it’s got some big point. I can’t keep doing this. Being the bigger man all the time. Sucking it up. Just, like, taking it, constantly. All these things you say hammering me in the head: ‘The time to do everything is now. Pretend you’re in a hurry. If you’re bored then you’re boring.’ I just can’t do it any more! It’s finished!”

He dropped to the ground, weeping.

“I’ll tell you what.” said the King. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll send someone out, we’ll get a few different myrrhs, you can pick the one you like. In the meantime, join me for dinner.”

Our Lord looked up.

“I…Thank you so much. It’s just…I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Forget about it,” said the King. He clapped his hands. “We dine.”

Our Lord spoke.

“It’s not fish is it?”