At around the fifth month of my pregnancy, I was feeling great and nesting with vigor and I was completely terrified of the idea of childbirth. The little person I was growing seemed awfully comfortable and I decided this arrangement was one which I was willing to continue indefinitely. The childbirth classes had been honest (read: graphic) and I was pretty certain that if I'd known everything they taught me, we may never have gotten so excited in the first place. Alas - this was a process that culminated in the birth of a baby - it's how it works. However, on that Christmas Eve night, standing in front of a packed sanctuary, belly swollen, I thought about Mary. At that particular moment, the thought of riding anywhere far away from home, particularly on a donkey, sounded like an extreme form of torture. The notion of birthing a baby amid animals in a barn sounded horrendous. Knowingly becoming mother to the Saviour of the World - unthinkable!
This Christmas, in the year 2020, I see Mary in another new way. Having heard for years that Mary was 13 when she was betrothed to Joseph and the angel appeared to her to let her know she was going to carry God's own Son but that she shouldn't be afraid, hits home in a new way. My daughter is 13. My daughter is the age that preachers have espoused Mary to be for all of my life and Mary was already engaged - at the age of 13. Cultural context is certainly different in Marietta, GA, in 2020, than it was in Nazareth over 2000 years ago, but y'all. My 13 year old daughter is studying Pinterest like a boss, she is helping me know which moisturizers are best for under my eyes as my skin starts to sag a little. She's navigating the throes of middle school and all the funk that goes along with this season in life. She is NOT ready to be engaged or to hear from a heavenly guest that she will be the conduit for the redemption of the world! Can you even imagine?
"Mary's Song" - the Magnificat - gets lots of press this time of year.
It comes from Luke 1:46-55:
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
50 His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
Until now, I've read this passage as truly a song, a song that Mary sings with great peace and confidence, accepting the angel's admonition to not be afraid. I've heard these words as I've watched 4th and 5th graders vie for the role of Mary in the church Christmas pageant. But this year, as I live daily with a 13 year old girl, I wonder if Mary sang this as a prayer, a longing - over and over - trying to remind herself of God's goodness and might. I wonder if she hit that point in her pregnancy when she was totally scared of the birthing process and wanted to freeze time so she could live the way she'd grown accustomed for the rest of her life. I wonder if motherhood overwhelmed her and if the added pressure of knowing she was carrying God's Son was comforting or terrifying. Today I read these words and I can hear a trembling voice of a child growing into a woman, a voice trying to convince herself that it's all going to be alright. And I wonder how her mama and her daddy comforted her and supported her - or if they supported her.
Today, in the year 2020, I see Mary as far tougher than I've ever given her credit before now. She didn't have an epidural or an adjustable bed or even a little bit of privacy. She had a supportive husband and she and Joseph were the epitome of 'making do'. They even entertained strangers right after birthing a baby because God had helped them to know this baby was special. As I look at my daughter, I see Mary anew. I see her and Joseph as more remarkable than ever. Yes - generations call her blessed - I also call her strong, trailblazer, incredibly faithful. And I wonder, how we all respond to our own call to be faithful, strong trailblazers and how the work Philip and I do as parents is fostering those abilities in our own children. This year has taught me a lot of things - faith and strength and making do being quite at the top of the list. Perhaps I will look back on this year and see blessings that have yet to bubble to the top of the glass, perhaps I will look back and see times that our family did some trailblazing, perhaps I will see ways our faith and strength deepened in the process. Regardless, I know I will never see Mary the same way again and, for that, I'm grateful.
