This Christmas season I've felt a real...closeness...to Mary. I'm not sure if "closeness" is the right word, but I sure do find myself thinking about her an awful lot. Can you imagine how it felt to be carrying the Savior of the World? Talk about pressure!
I can't imagine how it felt to be carrying the Christ child, but I can imagine how it feels to be carrying someone God deems special enough to be born because I've done it twice. And it makes me wonder about Mary all the more.
Mary's story is different than mine. She was a teenage virgin, betrothed to a man who was not the father of the baby she was carrying. (That seriously has Maury written all over it!) I'm married, both of my babies have the same daddy, and I am most definitely not in my teens--although I don't look a day over 18, thank you very much.
But.
Mary was chosen by God to carry His son. She carried him in her womb, felt his sweet movements inside her belly and probably spent agonizing hours in labor, ending in the triumphant arrival of the King. Can you imagine when she first laid eyes on her son?
A beautiful, wet baby...maybe a head full of dark hair? Sweet newborn cries. Do you think she clung to him? Held him to her chest and cried tears of joy that he was finally here, safe and sound? And oh, so beautiful! She carefully wrapped him in cloths and when she became so tired and needed to lay him down, she carefully and lovingly laid him in a manger to sleep. Do you think when they left the stable, that she took those cloths with her? A reminder of her first hours as a mother, the first hours with her son, the first clothes he ever wore? Kept them in a wooden chest along with his first lost tooth, his first wood-carved sailboat?
They had plenty of visitors- wise men, shepherds, angels...who showed up to see her baby. They said all kinds of wonderful things about her son. Ooh'ed and ahh'ed over this perfect child. And do you know what Mary did?
"...Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." (Luke 2:19). Of course she did. Of course she treasured all the things being said about her boy. Because she was his momma. And that's what us moms do.
I didn't birth any kings or queens (well, drama kings and drama queens!), but just like he hand-picked Mary for Jesus, he chose me for Hadley and Griffin. He picked me out of everyone else for the precious role of "mommy" for my babies, His perfect creations. I have this mental image of God's eyes roaming the earth landing on me and saying, "That one. She's perfect for you." And of course we won't know exactly how it works until we actually arrive at the pearly gates, but it's probably a far more perfect image than what's in my head!
As I hold my little girl while she falls asleep at night and smell her sleep-sweat curls, and as I rock my baby boy to sleep and feel his warm breath on my neck, I can't help but imagine Mary doing the same many, many years ago and feel so incredibly humbled that my most important calling in this life is "mother." Mary knew what lay ahead for her baby boy and I know she would do it all over a million times and again just for another chance to sing lullabies to her sleeping child. Because I would do the same.
Oh, Mary...what a special bond we share.
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