Easily Excitable

I’ve been in a state of disorientation since last Sunday. Sunday was the day I realized that we are officially in December and, OH MY MISTLETOE, did it sneak up on me. 

Each morning, I’ve been reading an Advent devotional, written by members of our church: I’ve thoroughly enjoyed each one. 

That’s been helpful to get my mind right. 

That, and the fact that, this past week, I tried to get our Christmas tree in order. 

Suffice it to say that I have different gifts. 

(This I realized after putting ALL of the lights on the tree, plugging them in, and seeing that my work on this tree was, without a doubt, the UGLIEST lights job that’s ever been done. 

It was a travesty.

Last year, Zayden and Trey decorated the tree. They may need to revisit that task this year.)

That being said, Mary has been on my mind lately. 

As in, Jesus’ momma, Mary. 

That one. I’ve got some thoughts swirling around in my head, so I figured I would put said thoughts down on paper this week. 

Now, let me say from the outset, I am partial towards Mary. 

See, I come from a family who believes in passing down names. Mary has been a crowd favorite. It’s a name that belies a big personality. 

I have aunts named Mary or a variation thereof, as well as a couple of cousins. 

My younger sister’s name was Mary, too: Mary Caroline “Lived like a Tornado” Meadows. 

So, like I said, I’m partial to the name. 

Additionally, I have a few friends who are pregnant right now. 

They are well on their way to being, as the Bible says, “great with child” (Luke 2:5). 

It’s so thoughtful that these ladies would give us a physical representation of Mary during this advent season.

I appreciate their sacrificial childbearing that makes all of us feel closer to the Lord.

At any rate, here are a few thoughts about Mary in this season of advent: some serious and some less serious. 

1. Did she have to pack the camel herself? 

I guess…I mean…Here goes…

Y’all know Joseph was in the bathroom for an absolutely unholy amount of time. 

Has that been a male thing since the dawn of time? 

I like to think so.

So, as she waited for him to get finished up in his own version of the throne room, she threw in the pregnancy pillow, road snacks, loaded up the cooler, laid out a blanket across the camel. 

All the while, he wrapped up clipping his toenails just in time to critique and shift around the packing job she did. 

2. That’s a lot of trust to put in a teenager.

Cardinal rule of every teenager alive? 

They cannot be trusted.  

Some estimate Mary could have been around 14-15 years old at the time of Jesus’ birth. 

Now, I won’t call myself an expert by any means, but I have spent the past eight years teaching 14-15 year old girls. 

I wouldn’t trust many of them with a mechanical pencil, much less a child, much LESS the Savior of the world. 

(DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE BOYS, EITHER.)

And yet, God.

What a God thing that He would assign the world’s most important task to a teenager. 

OMG.  

It’s something so crazy, only God could think that up and think it’s a good idea. 

It’s also a testament that we don’t decide when we are ready for something, be it a change, a role, a task, etc.

How much better our lives would be if we just let God point the way, and we just got really good at saying yes, rather than reasoning out why we aren’t the folks for the job? 

God didn’t ask Mary what she thought about the task at hand because- really?- that might have wasted more time and created more problems than it could have solved. 

3. Closely related, think of the gossip field day she endured. 

There had to be whispers behind hands, rumor mills stirring, and gossip galore. 

Mary shows up pregnant, and there had to be quite a few sideways glances. 

Joseph was looking for a *loving* way to put her aside. 

Her betrothed thought for a bit that this couldn’t really be the real deal. Until he also welcomed an angel visitation. 

He married her, but surely, the townsfolk were counting on their fingers how many months they’d been married vs. how many months she’d been pregnant.

The rest of the town? Surely, they didn’t understand: I don’t even know that she would have told people what the real truth was.

Because, let’s face it, who would have actually believed this Child was of God? 

Having whispers and rumors swirl around me would be a lot for me as a 30 year old. For adolescent girls? 

That would feel like a near death sentence.

4. Jesus’ love for women had to be encouraged by a really good mom. 

I do think that Jesus is the Son of God, so in each person, I fully believe He saw His creation, made in His own Image. 

But still, how wild that He welcomed women into His own circle.

How incredible that He saw rejected women, healed them, and even entrusted one (woman at the well, I’m looking at you!) with one of the first proclamations of who He is. 

I think His heart towards women was encouraged by a strong woman- a woman who was steadfast, Godly, and trustworthy- a woman who was really good at seeing and noticing needs, and who didn’t hesitate to meet those needs. 

5. A mother’s love drew her to follow him from cradle to cross. 

As Joseph and Mary took Jesus to the temple, a man named Simeon celebrated the arrival of the Messiah, but as he celebrated, he told Mary that “a sword will pierce your own soul, too” (Luke 2:34-35).

This spoke of Jesus’ sacrifice and Mary’s walking with Him to His death. 

The very woman who greeted Him at His first breath was there for His last. 

Consider the fact that Mary, mother to Jesus, stood at the base of His Cross. 

Few things are more tragic than the death of a child, but could there have ever been a more violent death? 

Whipped, mangled, and nailed to a cross. Vile to the viewer, vicious to the victim. 

I don’t think I have to expand on that one. 

6. Also interesting to me is that we don’t get a picture of their reunion. 

Jesus rose from the dead three days later- the dead comes to life, and the course of humanity is altered in the most incredible way. But, what about His reunion with His mom? 

Why didn’t we get to see that? 

In the same way that there aren’t words enough for the pain she endured watching that cross, I don’t think there are words for the overflowing joy she must have felt when He walked in her door or appeared in her midst. 

Surely, there were no words to be uttered that could properly fit a mother and Child being reunited in the midst of the most impossible circumstances. 

There is no force more powerful on earth than a mother’s love. 

I praise God daily for great mothers, one of whom (duh) was the mother of Jesus Christ. 

Mothers really are the ones who bring the heart to Christmas. 

They are those who plan the gifts, wrap them, cook the Christmas breakfast, welcome folks into their homes, triage the overstimulated children, decorate the house, cook the dishes to take to others’ homes. 

Often, it’s the mothers who don’t get to fully take in, enjoy, and appreciate the Christmas festivities they helped create. 

And what a wonder that it’s not just mothers: these are the aunts, sisters, grandmothers, cousins, and friends who walk alongside us, too. 

We live in a culture that can be so vicious towards women.

And yet, women are treasured, delighted in, sought out, and brought in by a Creator who longs for a relationship with us. 

He is our Home, our Redeemer, our Savior, and He was loved by a woman who, 2000 years ago, brought forth humanity’s hope. 

Jesus rewrote the story for all of mankind, and I have to think He was raised and encouraged by a great mom along the way. 

Blessed is she who believed. Those words applied to Mary, and they apply to all of us today, too.

Glory be to God!