Sitting here on this cold, cold (-11) Christmas Eve morning and I am thinking. I am thinking of Mary. Oh, intellectually I know that Christ was not born on Christmas Day, but during Passover, but we celebrate it now and so I am thinking of Mary and all that she went through.
That long journey, the having to give birth in a stable without her mother or any other women around, alone. Giving birth knowing that the child she was bringing into the world was not really hers, but the world's.
A world that is not always kind to others or generous with their thoughts, deeds, or wealth. A world that, generally speaking, was not really worthy of the sacrifice.
I don't think we give Mary enough credit in this story most of the time. I am a mother. I know the joys of carrying a child, and those secret conversations we have with them. That wonderful pleasure of the first movements, the little butterflies that tell you you are no longer alone. The silent whispers of love to this being which is growing inside you . . . I know the pain of childbirth . . . and the beauty of that moment when you can hold this wonderful little helpless creature in your arms for the first time. And you are almost overwhelmed with the responsibility of it all, but you take it on because you cannot fathom not doing so. You are in love, totally, irrefutably, undeniably, in love. And you are lost in it all.
I know Mary must have felt all of those things, but also something else . . . she held this helpless creature knowing that he was really only hers for a short time, to love and to nurture and to help to become all that His Heavenly Father wanted Him to be . . .
And the shepherd's came and recounted all that they had seen on the hillside, the heavenly choir announcing his birth . . .
"But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart."
And then when they presented him at the Temple as was the tradition of the Jews to present their first born as a sacrifice to God, exchanging a dove for his return, and Simeon blessed them, and then turned to her and said . . .
"Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed."
As a mother, I can imagine the sword began to pierce her soul right there and then . . . this role that he would play in the world, becoming suddenly clear.
And then when he was 12 years old and they lost him, only to find him in the temple teaching the teachers. He says to her, did ye not know I was in my Father's house, doing my Father's business.
All those years she must have held him close in her heart, enjoying all the things that mothers enjoy about bringing up their children. Maybe she had even forgotten for a time that he wasn't really hers forever and ever . . . and ever. It must have become even more clear to her then and she must have had even more to ponder in her heart.
How proud she must have been of the man that he had grown into when she watched him walk about and teach the people of Galilee, and see the miracles he performed, and how much the people loved and revered him.
I know a mother's pride in her children. I am so proud of my own.
What must have it been like for her to sit at the foot of the cross and watch her son die for this undeserving world. A world that is often unkind and cruel. I cannot imagine the pain she would have felt, the sorrow . . . in that moment.
Oh how very strong and faithful and wonderful this woman was. And so at this Christmas time I celebrate the birth of my Savior, but I also celebrate the wonderful example to us that was His mother, and I give thanks for her as well.
(source)
I am going to give my house a quick once over today, vacuum, wash the floors, tidy up. Then I have a few gifts to wrap and I will start the prep for the Christmas Dinner I am cooking tomorrow. I am going to my sister's tonight for Tortiere. That will be nice.
Eileen is okay. We spoke yesterday. She understands and is happy that I will bring them a meal on Boxing Day and their gifts, and that, when it is safe again, she and Tim can come and stay overnight, have a sleepover. She is happy with that. Crisis averted.
I spoke to my friend Tina yesterday. She is recovering from Covid. It is amazing that despite living in the same house, Tony did not get it. I am so grateful she is getting better.
Other than going to my sister's later today I am not going to go anyplace else. I will listen to the carols on the television and wrap pressies, clean, tidy, prepare and cuddle the cats, and I will feel grateful for this life that I am living. For my health and for my home and for my family and my friends. And for my Savior and his beautiful mother, and for each of you.
A thought to carry with you . . .
° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
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˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★\
•。★★ 。* 。
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˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★\
*.˛.Christmas is most truly Christmas
when we celebrate it by giving
the light of love to those who need it most.
~Ruth Carter Stapleton•。★★ 。* 。
In The English Kitchen today . . . Gingerbread Waffles with Lemon Cream. These are such fun and that lemon cream is fabulous. It goes wonderfully with the flavor of the waffles.
Merry Christmas everyone! Despite the challenges we are all facing, may your holiday be filled with light and love and happiness. Don't forget!
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