A New Perspective

How many times have we all heard the story of Jesus' birth? I know that I've heard it my whole live, not just at Christmas, but multiple times throughout the year. I see my sweet Xiana at 3 as she soaks in the story repeatedly asking who Jesus' mother is again, and what's His daddy's name? Today, in Sunday school we watched a video that brought new light to the story of Jesus' birth. It wasn't anything miraculous, or some new discovery, I just saw the experience in a new way. The story of Mary and Joseph and the angel is so familiar that I find I almost brush it aside as if to say, "oh that old story, everybody knows that." Instead, today I find that it's crucial that we pay attention and give "that old story" the utmost attention and respect. Today Mary became a girl, a mother, a friend. I have never once thought about her relationship with the Savior as her son. What kind of a parental role did she take? I have often thought of her simultaneously frightened and comforted when she learned of her role to birth our Lord and king, but never the afterwards. What a patient mother she must have been to have been selected for this great mission. How she must have trusted in the Lord to accept this responsibility and ignore what the world might say. How she must have felt as she sat in that stable holding the new born king, a king that would not be celebrated by the world. On the contrary, a king the world would seek to destroy. Still, a king that would be celebrated by the heavens and the hosts and multitudes of angels. I never considered the fact that as that heavenly host descended from heaven and appeared to the shepherds with their trumpets and triumphant cries of joy, we were likely among them. Imagine, a world that couldn't comprehend that our Savior had been born. Now imagine, the heavenly hosts, ourselves, understanding completely the importance of our king's birth; crying out with optimism, love, and great rejoicing that Christ was born. It was only fitting that He should be born in such humble circumstances for He teaches humility to all. So Mary, trusting in God, birthed her son, held him close, and how she must have wept with admiration as she saw the wise men and shepherds come to worship this tiny babe.... her tiny babe. What must she have felt to know that this child of hers would be the world's teacher, her teacher, and bring truth and a pure example of righteousness to the earth? Did she know then that he would later be sacrificed so that we, and she, could return to live with our father in heaven? Did she quiver with fear as she thought of all the mistakes that she might make, but that he would never? I know as a mom there is instantly, not only a swell of pride, but the induction of mom guilt when an infant is brought into this world. It's just part of the territory and we get through. But I think of how many times I feel guilty that I didn't seize a teaching moment, or I didn't heed a request that would have meant something for Xiana, or I got angry and lost my temper, or I didn't lead by example in my home. Imagine the feelings of inadequacy if the one you teach is the ultimate teacher. Mary, a girl, a woman, beloved by God met this responsibility and promised to do exactly what was asked of her. She was a person, a real person. We knew her. We will know her again. Perhaps I'm affected by my own pregnancy hormones flowing through my body, but today I just can't believe that I never knew that Mary, the mother of Jesus, was a mommy... just like me. She cared for, raised, and loved a perfect son. She was human. She was an exceptional human, but she was, nevertheless, human. So today, I feel as if I have met Mary for the first time. She endured great trials, but she was blessed more abundantly than fathomable for she was and is our Savior's mommy!

And, on a somewhat side note, today in primary, Xiana went to Sunbeams and when they asked how Mary knew that Jesus was going to be born she cried out, "an angel told her!" And again, my heart swelled with pride that my almost sunbeam daughter knew what happened. I hope I can teach her that Mary is a person long before she's my age.