Mary Didn’t Know

It’s beginning to look a lot like…expectations.  You were thinking maybe Christmas?  For me, it seems like Christmas also brings with it self-imposed expectations.

I love the Christmas season.  The Friday after Thanksgiving, my daughter and I carry Christmas bin after bin up from the basement.  We carefully unwrap the decorations, spreading them out in the living and dining room so we can formulate a plan.  We set out tree, after, tree, after tree – I have an issue with Christmas tree decorations; I may have nearly 75 of them.  Don’t judge.  And just like that, expectations creep in trying to steal my joy.  Where will I put everything? Does it look okay?  Maybe I have too many trees?  Maybe not enough trees?  I can go from excited to overwhelmed in a nanosecond.

Then comes the shopping.  I love to shop.  I love buying gifts for people that I love.  My daughter shares a list with me in Notes on our phones.  It’s a lot of ideas for me to pick from, to share with grandparents and family members.  It isn’t an all-inclusive list.  But try telling that to this mama who wants to give her daughter everything.  Even though her daughter is grateful and happy with far less.  I start looking at my budget thinking, “If I skip my hair coloring, I can afford that extra gift.”  Expectations.

And then there is the worry about choosing the right gifts for friends and family.  Will my best friend like the unique gift I’m so excited to give her?  Will my boss enjoy the present I picked out?  Will my niece and nephew be happy with the toys we chose?  What in the world do I get my in-laws who always tell us not to get them anything?!  Expectations.

And who knew how stressful baking cookies could be?  “Am I making enough?”  I wonder why I can’t get the Hungarian nut rolls to look like my mom’s; even though they taste good.  I can’t figure out why my sugar cookie decorations don’t look like the ones on Holiday Cookie Baking Championship.  I wonder how many pounds I’m going to gain because I can’t step away from the peanut butter blossoms.  And I wonder if people will like the cookies, I gift them.  Expectations.

Don’t get me wrong, I do find a lot of joy in the holiday season.  The Christmas music channels are already pre-set in my car, and I enjoy being serenaded by Bing Crosby and Dean Martin.  And who doesn’t love the Chipmunks?!  I love wrapping presents.  I love sitting in a dark living room with the lights from the Christmas tree enfolding me in warmth and peace.  And I love the story of Jesus’ birth.

I am in awe of this young girl, Mary.  Historians agree that Mary was between 12 and 14 years of age when she gave birth to Jesus.  Mary grew up during the first century in a Jewish family that loved God. Her parents took her to a temple to dedicate her to God when she was three years old. They raised her in Galilee, which was then part of the ancient Roman Empire and is now part of the nation of Israel. As an adolescent, Mary became engaged which was common in her culture. And then God surprised her by sending the angel Gabriel to make that life-changing, world-altering, incredible announcement. 

Luke 1:28-38 describes what happened, but for me, the power of this encounter has always been Mary’s response in verse 38: “I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May your word to me be fulfilled.’ Then the angel left her.”  

Seriously?  My brain would have been reeling.  I can hear it now, “Who, me?!”  “I’m not prepared.”  “What if I mess this up?”  “What will Joe say?”  “How can I raise the son of God?”  “I can’t possibly be qualified.”   Expectations.

But Mary’s age in years was not indicative of her spiritual maturity.  Mary’s faith was deep and fiercely rooted in the truth of God’s sovereignty.   And maybe, her young age is what allowed her to embrace the will of God because she had not yet lost the wonder we lose as we get older.  Mary relied on the love of God and trusted the plans of God over the expectations of the world.  In Mathew 18:3, Jesus says, “unless you change and become like little children you will never enter into the kingdom of heaven.”  Mary’s youth allowed her to embrace the awe of God, rather than worldly skepticism.

So, as I sit here, 26 days from Christmas, I am determined to be more like Mary this season.  To live from a place of love. To continue traditions, create memories, and embrace moments – not for some self-imposed result, but just because they bring me joy.  

One of my favorite Christmas songs is “Mary Did You Know?”  And this stanza always wrecks me; usually bringing me to tears a few times each season, “Did you know that your baby boy
Has walked where angels trod?  When you kiss your little baby, You kiss the face of God.”  

This year I want to celebrate differently.  I want to celebrate in awe of the God who chose a teenage girl with faith beyond her years to deliver the Savior of the world.  A girl whose faith and obedience were so simple, yet so profound.  A young girl with no expectations.  And a God with the perfect plan.