The waiting of advent is akin to the waiting of an expectant mom. Then the time of waiting culminates in the birth of the Christ child.
I remember being pregnant at Christmas a couple of times. The awareness and connectedness that I felt to pregnant Mary caused me to ponder her experiences in my heart.
During each advent and Christmas they resurface once again.
I remember keenly the day I made the following statement to my grandmother, when I was maybe thirteen: “Gram, the Catholics really overemphasize Mary, don’t they?”
To which she replied, swiftly “and maybe the Protestants don’t emphasize her enough.”
Mary was chosen, by God, to be more than just the vessel through which his son would be born human. She was his choice. Not only was she to carry him in her womb, but she laboured him through birth, nursed him, cared for all of his needs. She was his momma.
It was her finger that he first grasped, her eyes that he first stared into, the sound of her voice that he first recognized, her touch that most comforted him.
In each of these firsts we see what heaven will be like, but it will be not just the finger, but the hand of Jesus held out to us, his eyes that we will look into, his voice of invitation and the comfort of his touch.
When a woman is expecting, especially for the first time, there is such curiosity of what is happening within her. Truly pregnancy is a mystery with great anticipation and expectation. Each stage, each movement is awe-inspiring.
Truly every pregnancy is miraculous.
At Christmas the miracle of the pregnancy of Mary is central to the narrative.
In the genealogy of Jesus, is recorded the most intimate of connections to Jesus,
“Joseph, the husband of Mary,
and Mary was the mother of Jesus who is called the Messiah.“
To be the mother of Jesus was a high calling, one that need great emphasis, as our Word emphasizes not just her name, but her role (and name) of mother.
itsawonderfilledlife 