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Too much of a Martha, and not enough of a Mary.

I’ve been uncomfortable in my complacency for a couple of months now, yet too confused to do anything about it because it seemed that everything I have ever tried in the past has landed me right back where I started in beginning with more wear-and-tear than I bargained for. On Sunday I prayed and asked the Lord to do a work in my life – I laid the fleece out on the lawn, if you will. I prayed that He would reveal Himself to me and grab ahold of my heart.

I prayed that my Prayer Life would become real – not just going through the motions of asking for things when I’m in need, but that I would learn to praise Him when things are taking place that are perhaps unpleasant. I prayed that I would be more concerned with what God thought about my prayer life than what my prayers sounded like to others. God doesn’t care about fancy words and impressive praise — He cares about what’s in my heart.

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Mary, blessed among women.

By the time I actually post this it won’t be Christmas Day anymore. In fact, it’s not “Christmas Day” anymore right now… it’s currently 1:30 in the morning.

Christmas morning is one of the most anxiously awaited times of the year – and, like every year, we have my dad’s side of the family over for fellowship on Christmas. I don’t get to see that side of my family very often due to life and all that keeps everyone busy, so I always look forward to seeing the people I love for several uninterrupted hours on Christmas. While I was finishing up some last-minute cleaning and decorating my dad was playing a CD in the basement – I just happened to be near the CD player when a song written from Mary’s perspective titled “You’re Divine” was playing. “When You need me my love will say yes, though my heart knows You’re not really mine – You’re divine!”

I started crying as I listened to the words. Then my imagination went into overdrive. *I wonder what I would’ve done if I had been Mary… I wonder what I would’ve said to the angel had he announced to me that I was pregnant by a seemingly impossible method. I wonder if I would’ve just run away from the life I knew in order to avoid harassment, scorn, and judgemental glares.*  Then I started wondering about Mary herself. I wondered what the first words out of her mouth were when she saw Baby Jesus – “You’re perfect…” or maybe “I’m so unworthy…” or perhaps even “I love You more than life itself…”  Maybe she was completely silent; speechless; in total awe of the glory that was shining round about the humble stable that starry, silent night.  I wondered what kind of lady she was…

God always seems to choose the most unlikely person for the job. No doubt she was probably poor, and she was very young – some say as young as 13 years old, other believe she could have been closer to 17 years of age. The likelihood of her having a good education were probably slim to none. On any normal day you could probably find her helping in the kitchen, teaching her younger siblings to read and write, or fetching water down the road a ways at the village well. Oh, and no doubt she was working on her wedding plans – the big day was coming soon for her and Joseph to be married!

I have no doubt she was of a quiet temperament, meek, more humble that any other girl in the village – her willing spirit and obedient attitude was the pride and joy of her parents – she probably never had to be told to do the same thing twice.

She probably had the smile of an angel and the softest of brown eyes. Perhaps her hair was somewhat curly as it framed her face and fell over her shoulders. I’m sure she was soft-spoken, but when she laughed it was alive and from the heart. I wonder if she told stories to the children in the cool of the day, or if she cared for the animals in the stables nearby.

When it came time for worship, I wonder what her favorite song was. Or what her favorite “Bible story” of old was. I wonder if she asked her father again and again to tell her the stories of Noah and Abraham and Jacob and Moses.

Yet for all my questions, I know this for sure — she loved God, and she was obedient to Him regardless of what it might’ve cost her. She accepted His will for her life, despite the toll it might take on her reputation.

Oh, that women today might be more like Mary. That we might trust Him and love Him like she did.

I hope you all had a beautiful Christmas! May God continue to bless you and yours!

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