Merry Christmas Eve!

I put the finishing touches on Christmas presents for my husband. The last year we would buy for each other for quite a while, I was sure. I checked over the house and made sure we had everything needed for Christmas breakfast and our contribution to the family dinner. After a full day, I was ready for the candlelight service at church. 39 weeks into my first pregnancy, I had certainly waddled my way through the day and had a difficult time breathing for the hour-long service. Funny how such a tiny baby could take up so much room! As ready as I was to meet this little one, I was frightened. What would labor be like? What kind of mother would I be? Would I be able to teach this child of God’s love? It was a huge responsibility.
I leaned closer into Richard and listened to the choir singing. The volume of my emotions had been cranked up right along with the intensity of my hormones and every little bit of the service touched me deeply. The little ones reading scripture with their parents, the beautiful message, the soft glow of white lights and beautiful decorations. I laughed at myself when I realized I had to use the ladies’ room again. That part of pregnancy I certainly wouldn’t miss!
The service was coming to a close. Candles were passed out, the lights turned low. The congregation rose and we sang “Silent Night” without music, just our humble voices lifted together in praise and wonder of our Savior’s birth. The lump in my throat made it difficult to sing. I closed my eyes to drink in the beauty of the voices around me.
After the service, we gathered with my family for our Christmas Eve tradition: a tour of neighborhoods to look at lights. It was fun to see displays that had been unchanged since my sister and I were children and to listen as her children looked on with excitement. I touched my swollen belly, felt my own baby move within, and smiled softly. How fun it would be to take her out the next year for her first Christmas Eve light show.
Near the end of our drive, the car fell quiet with only the radio playing softly. Soon “Breath of Heaven” began and for the hundredth time that season, I listened with renewed appreciation to what could have been Mary’s song:
I have traveled many moonless nights,
Cold and weary with a babe inside,
And I wonder what I've done.
Holy father you have come,
And chosen me now to carry your son.

I am waiting in a silent prayer.
I am frightened by the load I bear.
In a world as cold as stone,
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now.
Be with me now.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.
Breath of heaven.

Do you wonder as you watch my face,
If a wiser one should have had my place,
But I offer all I am
For the mercy of your plan.
Help me be strong.
Help me be.
Help me.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven

No matter how afraid I was, I couldn’t imagine how Mary must have felt. To be the mother of your Savior – what an amazing thing!
A few days later as I held my precious firstborn, I looked on her face in the still darkness of our hospital room. Richard snored softly in the corner and I thought back on Mary’s own night of wonder.
Did Joseph snore softly in the corner as she held baby Jesus close? Did she and Jesus look at each other, curious of the new life they began together? I’m sure she lightly ran her finger across his brow.
Breathed in the wonder and lovely smell of him.
Kissed his cheeks and marveled at how soft he was.
Did she pray over him? How awesome it must have been – how terribly humbling – to pray over her child, and know that she was praying to her child.
Did her heart ache over her sins, knowing her own son would bear them for her sake? Did she even know?
Thoughts of mine this Christmas Eve. I had similar ones last Christmas Eve as a tiny Harper was growing within. I barely knew of her before that day. I marveled in a different way. This time not of new motherhood. Instead I was in awe of how tiny the Lord of Lords and King of Kings became. The God of the Universe humbled Himself to grow in a Virgin’s womb. What a wonderous, remarkable, unmatched God we serve. I will never grow tired of His mysteries.
I pray you all have a Merry Christmas. Full of miracles. Full of Grace and Truth. Mercy and Love. Full of all that God has promised. Full of Him.