Mary did you know?

We are on the countdown to Christmas at our house.  The paper chain has just a few circles remaining, counting down the day until we get to celebrate Jesus' Birthday.

We had our own little Christmas party at our house this morning, complete with yummy food and lots of fun gifts the kids enjoyed opening.  We started our celebration off by reading from the Adventures in Odyssey Activity Calendar included in our Thriving Family magazine.  It spoke about how there were so many people expectantly waiting for Jesus' birth, just as people were excited about our own birth.  

The kids then allowed me a few minutes to talk about how each of them came into the world...minus the human anatomy lesson.

I told our firstborn how we were so excited for him to come into the world.  My due date came and went, and still no baby.  I waited another week until the doctor said it was time.  And I was never the same.

Then I told our second born how I cried for the first week after I found out I was pregnant with her.  We lightly touched on how God's time is not always our time, and I wrapped it up by telling her that she came, with the help of modern medicine, on her due date, and was much easier on me than her brother.  She liked hearing that, especially after the whole crying-for-a-week thing.

I shared with our third child how she was a gift from God, and that I had really bad back labor with her, and I was as happy as a clam to have that over with.  There was no sugar on the end of her story, except her of course.

And our fourth "baby" is a miracle from God and too little to understand what that means.  This is not the post I want to share her story in, but I promise, it will come.  And I promise that even though she was the biggest surprise of our lives, we can't imagine a day without her and all that God has taught us through her.

So back to Jesus and his birth story.  

I have been thinking so much about Mary this Christmas season, and what she felt as mother of Jesus.  

I remember so clearly the minute the doctor placed my new infant on my chest, the joy and excitement that I felt with each one.  The lack of pain that I felt thanks to some good drugs.  The army of people there to help me with my delivery and the many hands that were available to care for my new child, all in a very clean, sterile room. 

And what did Mary have?  Joy and excitement I am sure.  But as a young teenage mom she had little to no experience delivering a child.  With nothing but her man to help.  No army of nurses to tend to her or her infant.  And she was in a barn, in a bit of animal poop, perhaps.

And I wonder if Mary knew.

If she knew that the baby that she just delivered, the ones she had her own hopes and dreams for, the child that God had chosen her to bring into this world, would someday be hanging on the cross to save thousands, millions of people.

I dare to bet that had she known the pain He was destined to experience, she would have traded places with him.  She would have bargained with God in order that her son would not have had to walk that road.

When our oldest was about 18 months old we were told that he failed a hearing test, and would need hearing aids.  

And my heart broke.

Here he was, my child, my little boy, and I knew that although hearing aids were not the worst diagnosis we could have heard, I also knew that kids are mean and cruel, and that he would endure pain and hardships that I would much rather carry.  I could handle those hurtful words.  I could handle the stares.  I could handle the inconvenience.  

Give it to me God, and please take it away from my son.  

I started bargaining with God as if my life depended on it.  If only he could take this away from my son, then I would be better.  If He would take it away, then I would sing his praise all my days.  I would share what He had done for us, the healing that He offered.

We took our son for healing prayer.  And the craziest thing happened, the craziest God-thing ever.

We had a more invasive hearing test performed on him at Blank Children's Hospital a few days later.  

And he passed.

Not only did he pass, but the technician couldn't figure out why in the world we were there.

He did it.  God did it.  He healed my son.  He took away all the things I had become anxious about.

God did not do the same for Mary.  She raised this gift from God, only to watch him die in public disgrace.  I am almost sure that Mary's heart broke, just like my mother's heart does when I see my child suffering, hurting, or alone.

I love how Mary set an example for us all when she replied to the angel in Luke 1:38, "I am the Lord's servant...May it be to me as you have said."

Mary didn't know.  She didn't know how Joseph would react to the news that she was caring a child conceived by the Holy Spirit.  She didn't know how her family would react.  And she certainly didn't know how difficult it would be to see her child die.  But she trusted God, and His plan.  And she knew that even if all of her prayers went unanswered, and even if God didn't bargain with her and allow her to trade places with her son, allow her to carry the pain of his death, that the story God had written was far better than anything she could have come up with.

Please note that I pray you all have a wonderful Christmas, enjoying lots and lots of food, fellowship, and perhaps a few new outfits for me.