I remember one of the very first posts I did when I began this blog, asking the question "if Mary would have known how everything would go, how it would all turn out and how she would watch her Son die, would she have still done it?" Would she have said to the angel Gabriel "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said." (Luke 1:38)? I'm not clear as to how much she understood the prophesy of the Old Testament and how it would be fulfilled through her Son, the Messiah... but I am pretty sure, even through all of the worry and struggle and fear, she would have still done it. She would have faced the ridicule and slander of a pregnancy that no one could comprehend. She would have traveled days on the back of a donkey, nearly in labor, only to give birth in a stinky stable, surrounded by animals. She would have fled to Egypt to live among strangers, to flee a king who wanted to kill her newborn son, the True King.
She would have done all of that. She did do that and so much more. And yet somehow, none of it is about her.
She wasn't perfect. She wasn't without sin. She was just chosen, and called to a purpose so much greater than her own. She found favor with God.
At a time of year when I look at my children, my husband, my decorated tree, my home, the food, and friends and family, I can't help but give thanks. ...And then every once in a while I get a little somber thinking about my child that isn't here. The one who doesn't have a Christmas program or a party to attend. The one I don't get to see open gifts, sing silly carols, or toast with sparkling cider. The one that is remembered only through pictures and ornaments hanging in his memory. I honestly get sad and know that something is missing...
Until once again I hear Jesus whispering, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." (Isaiah 55:8-9)
I remember once again that it's not about me. It's not about my plans, my wants, my struggles. It's only about finding daily favor with God. It's about walking in His ways. It's about my obedience and His love.
I didn't give birth to a king. I certainly didn't give birth to the Savior of the World. But I did give birth to someone who changed the world... who changed my world. And if Mary would do it all again, as I know she would, who am I to say that I wouldn't too. All the pain, the hurt, the fear, the suffering... I would do it again. For one life saved, I would do it again.
And although I don't get to see my Maddox opening gifts on Christmas morning, I can't imagine the glory and splendor he celebrates in the presence of the one who is being lifted up across the globe. While Mary and I have very little in common, we are both mothers of sons who have gone before us, and just as she treasured all the mysterious happenings in her heart... so do I.
God is faithful. God is true. And God works in ways we will only fully understand when we are in His presence worshiping at His feet.
"'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.' Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.'" ~Luke 2:8-14