My Christmas Obsession

For whatever reason, I seem to be quite obsessed with Mary this Christmas. I know who the “Reason for the Season” is. Every church billboard heralds the reason, ad nausea. That He came to us at all… I cannot fathom it.

It is Mary, though, who has captured my heart this Christmas. I can see why our Catholic counterparts are so fond of her. She must have been 13 or 14 years old when the angel first came to her.

I remember her. I’ve loved a 13 year old girl who was pregnant, before. She was my client when I was a caseworker. She was scared and confused. She was so grown up but still such a child. So naïve and seemingly astute at the same time. In reality, she had not one clue what she had gotten into. She thought she did, though.

I suppose Mary was the same. She definitely had a child-like faith. But she had the tremendous courage of a woman of God. She had to be scared, there, in Bethlehem. And uncomfortable. I wonder if a midwife came to help her deliver Jesus. If not… then I am even more impressed with Joseph than before.

I was such a wimp during labor and delivery. Demerol and an epidural saved my marriage. I don’t want to even imagine months on a donkey before giving birth in the hay. Fourteen years old. Man.

I wonder, too, if all of their family went to Bethlehem for the census. Maybe her mother was with her. The Bible doesn’t talk about the mother of Mary. I sure do hope her mother was with her.

Just a few obsessive thoughts about Christmas.