As I’m writing this, Christmas is less than a week away. We have sufficiently decked the halls, looked at the lights, seen the Santas, baked the treats, sung the carols, and watched the movies. I have been determined to do all the merry things despite the sickness, stitches, and sleeplessness that have infiltrated our Christmas cheer. And while we have experienced so much joy in these days, there have been lots of trying moments as well.

Last week I really channeled my Clark Griswold as I attempted not to lose my actual mind while building a gingerbread house with kids who have zero interest in allowing the icing to dry to salvage its structural integrity before trying to push each piece of candy onto the roof with their sticky fingers (For the record: those walls came down faster than Jericho. I kept my sanity in the multiple rebuilds …but just barely).

So while I continue to line up medicines, vitamins, and thermometers on our countertops like they are part of the seasonal décor and face another long night with a very fussy baby, I am feeling a bit weary. (And by a bit, I mean I am at the exhaustion level of someone who hasn’t had a full night of sleep in approximately 2 years.)

Gosh, I realize there are so many of you who are in thick of it right now—and certainly with circumstances much harder than mine. I am so sorry for the rough road you might be walking during this season. The difficulties just seem even more difficult at Christmas sometimes, don’t they? 

I am not here to start a pity party or present a hall pass for any sinfulness, but I am here to say: it’s okay to be weary. It’s okay to not be okay, to not be full of holiday cheer, to not do every single fun tradition that you had planned because the hurts, heartaches (or in my case: exhaustion levels) are at record highs. 

…

Since I have been either pregnant or nursing the last 5 consecutive Christmases, I have been thinking a lot about Mary. While it’s tempting to go straight to the iconic manger scene, you may have noticed that she had quite a few obstacles in her path along the way.

I’ve been imagining her confusion as the angel approached her with the most important news. How tired she must have been from the journey to Bethlehem. How disappointed she was when there was not a proper room for them. How strange it was to deliver a baby with so high a calling and so great a purpose without truly knowing the extent of what was going on. How desperate she must have been for some rest, lying her newborn baby in a feeding trough. 

I have a feeling there was some weariness in her bones, too. 

You probably remember the part of the story where the shepherds find out about Jesus, but here’s a quick recap: 

Shortly after Jesus’ birth (the same night), an angel appears to the shepherds and tells them that a Savior has been born and they will find Him as a “baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger” (Luke 2:8-12). The shepherds quickly go to Bethlehem to see the sight for themselves and tell Mary and Joseph what they have just seen and heard. But here are the verses that have stuck out to me lately:

“And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:18-19, emphasis added).

In the original Greek, the word for “treasured” means “to preserve knowledge or memories (as for later use).” Although she didn’t fully comprehend the magnitude of the moments, she did not react with doubt or annoyance as far as we know. Despite her probable exhaustion and physical aches, she did not turn the shepherds away or ignore their interests. Instead, she savored the scenes before her, tucking them away like little files in her memories. 

She treasured and she pondered. The word for “ponder” in the original Greek means “to bring together in one’s mind, to confer with one’s self.” I’d imagine she was thinking back to Gabriel’s surprise visit just nine months beforehand, lining up the pieces as the story unfolded a little more before her very eyes. I’m sure she remembered her servant-hearted response and her song of praise that followed the angelic revelation.

It’s no coincidence that Mary was chosen to be the mother of God. From what I gather, she was tired but trusting, hurting but hopeful, exhausted but expectant. 

We see similar characteristics twelve years later when Jesus (as a young boy) stays behind in Jerusalem to teach in the temple, unbeknownst to his parents. Understandably, Mary is a little shaken when searching for her son. But Jesus replies that He has been “in [His] Father’s house.” While she did not quite understand at the time what He was saying, verse 51 says once again that she “treasured up all these things in her heart” (Luke 2: 45-51). 

There was another file tucked away in her mind. Another piece for reflection as she continued to raise her son “in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man” (52). And while she had yet to witness the full, glorious Gospel that would follow, she was full of trust, obedience, and a deep thoughtfulness that rarely plays out today. 

…

Here are the main things I am learning from Mary as I have been meditating on the Christmas story this year:

-You don’t have to identify all of the answers right away. 

In a culture that emphasizes immediate reactions to every news headline or issue, sometimes it is better to be quietly contemplative. To think before you act. And to listen more than you speak.

-Your difficult circumstances do not define your attitude.

I think we can all agree that Mary’s circumstances were less than ideal. But instead of focusing on the hardships by grumbling and complaining, we see her praise God in humility, walk forward in obedience, and continually reflect on all that He is doing. 

-Your faithful presence has purpose (regardless of age or status). 

Being a young and unwed girl, she was not the candidate that people in her time would have imagined the Messiah would choose to incorporate into His holy plan. But clearly God can and does use everyday faithfulness of ordinary people to bring forth His glory. 

As a mother now, I also can’t help but think about Mary years later while she stood beside the cross, watching her oldest son suffer for her sake and ours. In those sorrowful moments, did she think about Jesus as a sleeping baby in the manger or confident boy in the temple? Did she reflect on His adolescence or His many miracles? 

I am confident that so many of those scenes that she treasured and pondered flooded her memories in the agonizing hours, which undoubtedly led to a depth of emotion that I cannot fathom. But her nearby presence at the crucifixion was noted in John’s Gospel. And in the last moments before His death, Jesus made sure to arrange care for his mom (John 19:25-27). 

Praise God the story doesn’t end with a weeping widow next to her dying son. Three days later, He rose from the dead and displayed the culmination of the Greatest Story Ever Told that started in the Garden of Eden itself. Because of these holy events in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Christ; we have the opportunity to live with God in perfect peace forever. 

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices indeed.

As we celebrate and close out another calendar year, may we too treasure and ponder our own moments in light of the Greatest Story. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, friends!