Her Pondering Heart

It says she pondered. The woman who first welcomed God in the flesh, the one who birthed a baby that would save a dying world. This baby, her baby, vulnerable and naked, looked nothing like a savior.  And while everyone who heard about the miracle was amazed, this new mama, “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” God was born through her that night in a place not worthy of the moment, with an audience so humble it causes bewilderment. The reality of God with Us conceived questions and concerns, comfort and hope – in everyone, but surely {most} especially in her.

So I can’t help but wonder What did Mary’s heart ponder?

Did she feel unworthy of the responsibility? Was she afraid about what it all meant? Did she feel an overwhelming response to hold tight to the baby that would one day hold the weight of the world? Did she worry what people were thinking about her and Joseph? Or did she feel at peace, trusting in the One who revealed the moment to her those nine months ago?

You see, she’s not the icon dressed in white, draped with a blue sash, the one made of stone inside churches, or wood in nativities. Mary was flesh and bone, a young bride-to-be, a new mother savoring the first moments of her son’s life.

Despite the divine aroma, Mary was like you and me, like every other woman who has labored and delivered a life.

On this side of the nativity story, we tell it with great confidence and celebration. And yet, surely those who witnessed it may have experienced and told it differently – with quivering lips and hesitation, with words drenched in the indescribable fusion of faith and doubt. Mary’s mama instinct may have felt the weight of her baby’s life from the moment he breathed his first breath. And maybe the daddy feared the role of protecting his infant child, already sought after.

Oh, Mary, what did your heart ponder?

Were you in awe of the miracle of birth? Did you think your baby to be perfect, just like I did when I held and looked upon my first born son? Did you count his fingers and toes and examine his tiny body with adoring eyes? Did you feel exhausted from labor? Did you weep or laugh….or both? Did you start anticipating the days ahead of you, the long nights, the sweet memories? Did you wonder what God’s plan was in all of this? Did you wish the whole moment had happened differently? I’d understand if you felt a little sad that you didn’t deliver at home, with the people and place you felt most comfortable? Or did God’s presence hold the entire moment and suspend it in grace, so that every pain, every detail, every witness, every smell, every site felt holy and authored by the One coming forth through your temple of flesh?

How wonderful the things you treasured in your heart! God was faithful to his humble servant that day in Bethlehem. And you were faithful too. Thank you for being available for God’s life to conceive in you. Thank you for delivering your baby to the whole world. Thank you for your pondering heart that ministers to mine, to all of ours. Our hearts that wonder what God will do with our children. Our hearts that fear letting go, that struggle to understand our realities. Our hearts that stand in awe of God’s miracles, and wonder how his will will unfold. Our hearts that trust God but still feel anxious sometimes.

May the mysteries of this Emmanuel moment, the human emotions that surely overwhelmed and the heart ponderings of the ones who carried the story, bring comfort to our own pondering hearts, our own stories of delivered life.