Fourth Monday blessing: light

Season of Light

I was probably not so different from a million other little girls when I dreamed of someday being famous. Mine was not about movie stardom, but perhaps a life in the spotlight as a renowned conductor, vocalist, even teacher-of-the-year (yeah, not so much). With age and experience, however, I eventually realized that the goal was not so much to be famous, but to do something worthy of fame.

I would imagine Mary had neither aspiration. From what I know, reading Scripture and learning about societal norms, a young girl of her status was more likely to hope only to marry a good man in whose shadow she would abide and bear healthy children for whom she would quietly carry love and pride.

In her Magnificat, recorded in Luke, Mary refers to herself as “a lowly handmaid.”

And, although she recognized that “generations would call [her] blessed,” I wonder if she truly realized the significance her life would have in the centuries to follow.

One of my very favorite Christmas songs says it best, I think – Robbie Robertson’s Christmas Must Be Tonight*. Speaking with the voice of a shepherd, to whom the angels appeared, announcing the birth of Jesus, the chorus is…

  How a little Baby Boy bring the people so much joy…
  Son of a carpenter, Mary carried the light.
  This must be Christmas, must be tonight.

Mary carried the light. Talk about doing something worthy of fame. Good golly, Miss Molly.

Mary, mother of Jesus. Mother of the Wonderful Counselor, Almighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Mary, mother of Jesus, the LIGHT of the world.

On this last Monday of Advent, in this Season of Light, on this very Christmas Day, I speak with the voice of that shepherd…

  Come down to the manger, see the little stranger
  Wrapped in swaddling clothes, the Prince of Peace.

Join me at the manger, my lovelies. Then, each day, let’s take more of His light into the world, so desperate for that light and His peace.

Merry Christmas to you all. I’ll see you in the New Year… until then, I pray for you…

*This version by Carolyn Ahrends is lovely.

Photo by Jon Carlson on Unsplash