Labor of Love

When Mary was a little girl, she undoubtedly anticipated getting married and having a baby someday. What she couldn't possibly have anticipated, was the way those events happened.

My niece, Joanna, introduced me to a song that speaks to some of the realities that may have been present when God drew his first mortal breath. I'm including the words and a you tube video of Jill Phillips singing Andrew Peterson's affecting Christmas song.

 Labor Of Love :

It was not a silent night

There was blood on the ground

You could hear a woman cry

In the alleyways that night

On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean

And the cobblestones were cold

And little Mary full of grace

With the tears upon her face

Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labor of pain

It was a cold sky above

But for the girl on the ground in the dark

With every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labor of love

Noble Joseph at her side

Callused hands and weary eyes

There were no midwives to be found

In the streets of David's town

In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed

Shafts of moonlight on his face

But the baby in her womb

He was the maker of the moon

He was the Author of the faith

That could make the mountains move

It was a labor of pain

It was a cold sky above

But for the girl on the ground in the dark

With every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labor of love

For little Mary full of grace

With the tears upon her face

It was a labor of love

As I've listened to this song this year, one line has stood out to me. 

Little Mary full of grace with the tears upon her face.

I've been pondering what being "full of grace" means and looks like. I'm heightened to this awareness since reading Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts. 

In it, she reminds us of what the Bible teaches - that everything we are, experience, feel, know, etc., is grace, straight from/through the hand of God. Even events that cause tears upon our face. Hard grace, as she puts it.  I do not pretend to grasp that, and I struggle to embrace it when tears are streaming down my face - or the faces of my children or friends.

I wonder if Mary struggled to embrace it? We are told that "Mary treasured up all these things pondering them in her heart."( Luke 2:19)   If you treasure something, you know there's something deep, even profound, going on. It's not casual or small. It's worth pondering or working toward to get to its core - to get to where the real meaning is buried. And since this pondering requires labor, often intense labor, we, by working toward it in the first place, are declaring that we trust the one who first let our spirit know that real, lasting treasure is to be had - even in this hard place. 

Such mystery. We can't understand it fully.  So, we ponder and trust, trust and ponder, longing to more fully embrace the treasure of all the grace of God - like Mary did. Little Mary, full of grace, with the tears upon her face.