We often forget.

All the joy of Christmas began with that which was scary. Unexpected. An invitation to terrible unknowns, possibly even death.

Little Mary was, after all, an unwed teenage girl, in a culture valuing men over women–a culture adhering to customs and laws often carried out with no regard for mercy. Without grace.

Still… she said yes. And with her “yes,” the world was changed.

In her book God Called A Girl, author Shannon Kubiak says–

Although God called many great men of faith to incredible tasks in the past, there came a time when a man would not do. So… God called a girl. And that girl changed the world… (GCAG, p. 14).

Unlike a disbelieving Zacharias who inquired of the angel, asking, “How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is well advanced in years” (Luke 1:18), little Mary didn’t disbelieve. She simply couldn’t understand how becoming pregnant was biologically possible–asking Gabriel, “How can this be, since I do not know a man?” (Luke 1:34).

Perhaps one is thinking, “Well, how are these two inquiries different? Why was Zacharias punished, becoming mute for nine months, and Mary was told “Nothing is impossible with God” (Luke 1:37, paraphrase).

Again, one was disbelief. The other confusion. And ultimately, God knows the condition of each heart. He knew Zacharias doubted while Mary was in dismay. Even still, what was her response?

Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word (Luke 1:38).

This willingness, despite knowing–as an unwed pregnant teenager–she could be stoned, is what made all the difference, in her life and beyond. And the world has never been the same!

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

The ol’ 1943 song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane for the 1944 musical Meet Me in St. Louis. Sung by Judy Garland, her iconic voice with its enchanting vibrato stirs nostalgia.

When one takes a closer look at the lyrics of this song, however, we see something that’s quite contrary to that which we, as believers, know to be true.

Little Mary’s yes ushered in God’s plan to redeem a broken world due to sin. It wasn’t merely for the future but, rather, for the present and, in truth, for all eternity.

Indeed, little Mary’s yes was and is for us… not someday but now!

And doesn’t this contradict Martin and Blane’s melancholy tune, their lyrics bittersweet reminders of what will be rather than what is?

…Next year all our troubles will be out of sight...

…Next year all our troubles will be miles away…

Someday soon, we all will be together

If the fates allow,

Until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow.

With little Mary’s yes, peace was promised. Joy became ours. And now, hope fills our hearts–not just at Christmas but all throughout the year.

We don’t bank on what the “fates allow,” nor should we face the day merely “muddling through.” Because of little Mary’s yes, we can trust God’s best plans, waking each morning claiming the joy of the Lord is our strength, no matter what the day may bring.

Again, little Mary’s yes made the difference the day she said it and every thousand sun-spin since. And I, for one, am grateful.

So, for you, dear friends–a Christmas story of a different nature. A peek inside a young girl’s heart and mind to see for ourselves her possible thoughts and feelings… on that day…

(All scriptures above from the New King James Version)

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The Morning After

What have I done?

She bolted upright, the question waking her from fitful sleep—drenched in sweat, heart pounding. In her dream, he’d told her, “You’re beautiful… beautiful inside and out.” 

But what had he meant? Was this simply an alluring compliment? And what followed made her wonder—was it true? Had that encounter happened… really?

She brushed damp hair from her brow and rubbed her eyes. Still dark, the day, if it was day, had not begun for her early-rising mother, her soft, rhythmic breathing from beyond proof. Pushing back bedclothes, the teenager placed one foot on the cold floor, then the other. 

She walked on silent feet to the kitchen where she stoked the embers of the previous evening’s fire. An orange glow erupted, warming her face. She yawned as she sat in the chair adjacent the hearth, hands on her abdomen. Her stomach was flat—flatter than Abigail’s. Cousins compared physiques only weeks prior, dressing together in her room, preparing for Josiah’s wedding. 

She recalled that recent afternoon, and a grin tugged at the corners of her lips, the memory of this—her morning after dream—momentarily forgotten. 

“You’re sucking in,” her younger relative had exclaimed, pointing toward the protruding ribs when she’d lifted her thin undergarment.

“No I’m not.” The older girl was defiant. Tightening her abdominal muscles, attempting to push out her stomach, she held her breath. “Look! Even when I try, they stick out.” It was no use, and she’d exhaled long and loud. “I’m just skinny, that’s all.”

Abigail gave a humph, then chuckled. “I’d say it’ll take an extra slice of wedding cake or being preg—”

Irony struck—the truth thwarting the giggle hanging in her throat, jolting her back to the moment. She shook her head as if, in doing so, the memory of such a delightful day—such a stark contrast to this harsh reality—might break into pieces. Disperse. Disappear. 

Once more, her right hand brushed the soft linen nightgown, feeling ribs, then bellybutton before folding her hands, fingers entwined, to rest them on her yet unchanged tummy. 

But what lies beneath?

Closing her eyes, the girl drew a deep breath, inhaling the sweet aroma of cedar and smoke. She desired nothing more than to rise from this cozy, safe space, go about her day as usual—help with chores, gossip with friends. But no. If what she suspected was true, nothing—nothing—would be normal again. 

And once more, his voice echoed. “Don’t be afraid.” That’s what he’d said, and—after asking only one question, satisfied with his answer—she’d replied, “Yes.”

This was the day’s seeming verity—a day that, again, was to be the first of many in a new season where nothing—because of her willingness—could ever be the same. 

That is, if this stranger had been right. If all he’d said about him was true. But how could it be. After all, she was simply a girl and he was—

A noise startled her. She jumped and the chair creaked.

“Who… who’s there?” It was her mother. 

“It’s… it’s just me.” With her reply, the teenager remembered. The word “just”—that’s what she’d said. “Just as you say, let it be with me.” Oh, why? Why had she—

 “You scared me.” Her mother interrupted this tirade of questions. “I thought perhaps we had another whiskered visitor hunting for leftover feta,” and she laughed before inquiring, “Why are you up so early, child?”

The girl swallowed, considering her answer. Should she share honestly? Tell her mother the truth? Attempt to explain? But what would she say? 

“Just… just a dream, I guess. Trying to determine if it was a good dream or… or a bad one.” 

Or was it a dream? The question niggled, and, for the first time, she sensed a flutter within. Her arms crossed at her middle, and she squeezed, trying to quiet the stirring. 

Her mother stepped behind her to stroke her daughter’s hair. “Lovely fire, dear. Thank you.”

A beat of silence fell between them. Finally, “Ima?”

“Yes, love.”

The teenager swallowed again, fumbling to find words. “I think… I think I’m….” A lump rose in her throat, holding her voice captive. 

“What is it, Mary? You think you’re… you’re what?”

A single tear slipped from her eye, then trickled down her cheek. Quickly, she swiped it. “I… I think I’ll go visit Elizabeth. Perhaps that’s what the dream was telling me. Maybe she needs me, and….” One final swallow before she forced the words. “Maybe I… I need her.”

But what Mary really meant was, “Maybe we…”

Because, truth was, the young woman knew. The angel had visited her. It wasn’t merely a dream. And though only a girl, she was facing the difficult truth of an unplanned pregnancy. 

No matter what, with all the lurking unknowns, the potential problems, her yes would bring, she’d meant what she said—“I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve. Let it be to me just as you say.”

And if what Gabriel had spoken about God—yes, Adonai—was true, Elizabeth was the one she needed most. So, without a moment’s delay, she—no, they—departed.

“Mary didn’t waste a minute. She got up and traveled to a town in Judah in the hill country, straight to Zachariah’s house, and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby in her womb leaped. She was filled with the Holy Spirit, and sang out exuberantly, ‘You are blessed among women, and the babe in your womb, also blessed” (Luke 1:39-42)!

*(All scripture taken from The Message—Luke 1:26-42.)

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Have yourself a little Mary Christmas, friends! And remember–her yes welcomed Jesus…

The Reason for this season… for every season!