A little over 33 years ago, I found out that my eldest child would be a son. It wasn’t a heavenly revelation, but a medical one – ultra sound. When his kicking woke me up at night, I would imagine an athlete – maybe a football player. When my stomach rolled like the ocean waves, I imagined my boy with a kind but intense spirit. When Colin was born and I kissed his dark curls for the first time, I imagined the girls who would twirl those curls in their fingers. I imagined…but I didn’t know. Some of my imaginings came true, but by keeping them general enough, some were destined to occur. Besides his gender and the name we chose for him, what did I know about my son before he was born or even shortly after birth? Not much. His personality needed time to grow and develop. But I knew I would always love him, and that was knowledge enough.
Mary, too, knew she carried a son. She knew His name – Jesus. And she knew His destiny – to become king. When she kissed His dark hair for the first time, did she wonder who His queen would be? Or did she understand the world of sorrows He would inherit? How could she have known the miracles her son would perform? Though it was at her urging that He performed His first public miracle – turning water into wine. Did she think everyone would love Him as she loved Him? That they would follow Him as she followed – even to the foot of the cross? Even at that end of His 33 years on earth, did she know what came next, how God would fulfill His promise even as her son’s lifeless body was taken away to a borrowed tomb?
There are things Mary certainly did know from her Bethlehem vantage point:
a mother’s hope for her child,
the wonder of a world full of promise,
and faith in the One who sent her precious son.
She knew the overwhelming love of a mother for her son.
She knew enough…