I love Christmas time. Absolutely love it.
I love finding the right gift for someone.
I love the look of someone when they get something totally unexpected.
I love the songs about Christmas…even the cheesy ones.
I love the story and the reason for Christmas. The amazing account of a two young people and their journey to birth the Messiah. I have always been captured by Mary and what it must have been like to carry Jesus. She was young. It looked like she had messed up big time.
And then she had this long trip on a donkey which I’m sure felt almost as good as traveling to Oklahoma on icy, snow packed roads that felt like an old wooden roller coaster. So she rides this donkey, majorly prego and if anything like the women who read this blog, emotionally exhausted at the end of the trip.
All that way to just be told that she would have to sleep in a stable. To know that my God orchestrated it so my Savior would enter the world among the lowest of the low shows great care. No matter where we come from; what socioeconomic status is by our name or who we are, He is available to all and able to love anyone and meet them where they are. A beautiful testimony of love in a smelly crapped filled stable.
I wonder what went through Mary’s head those nine months. I wonder how she felt. The looks she got. The worry, the peace the honor. I wonder how you carry Jesus for nine months and ever go back to “normal” life. (probably the same way we carry Jesus with us and then go back to our normal lives) I wonder if the full reality of Jesus and him being the Savior they had been waiting on ever fully hit her. The fact that the little boy in her womb would save her; save me; save you. I wonder if she ever felt like she had the weight of world……in her uterus.