Short Stories

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The ceilings were high in that beautiful church. I carefully walked down the aisle, trying not to trip over my gown. Butterflies danced in my stomach as I tried my best to follow directions from the older woman I had just met. "In the Middle East, women were not allowed to show their hair," she said as she draped more colorful material around my shoulders. I couldn't speak. The sun shone on me through the stained-glass as I knelt, frozen with my head bowed and arms open in surrender. I could hear the familiar sounds of sharpened pencil skittering across paper. "This is the way I think Mary reacted after hearing the news," she said.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it as I listened. She told me about the Mary of the Bible, chosen to be the earthly mother of the Son of God. The angel said to her, "Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women." I wonder what she thought when she heard the words "highly favored." Favored by whom? She probably had no idea. It says in the next verse that she was "troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be."

If I heard that, I would definitely be wondering too. That angel had better explain. "Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God." He went on to tell her she would have a son; the Son of the Highest whose kingdom would never end. That is definitely good news, but I wonder if she understood who yet... She asked, "How shall this be, seeing I know not a man?" Then the angel tells her, "...that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God." Wow. In reaction to that, she says her famous line: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word."

My outstretched arms began to twitch and my feet were fully numb. I tried to picture myself as Mary. She was a young, unmarried virgin who lived in a time where women were punished for being pregnant out of wedlock. I care a lot about what people think. To have my name in the tabloids would be devastating; to have my reputation ruined among those who "favor" me would be devastating; to know I could be punished for a crime I didn't commit would be equally devastating and very scary.

But Mary hadn't a worry. She fully trusted that God had a plan, and that He'd protect her and the Holy Child inside her. She later tells her cousin Elisabeth, "...from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed." The angel didn't say it would be easy. He didn't promise her that people would understand, but she knew that eventually people would believe.

I got up to see the finished product, and there was Mary, drawn with my face: eyes closed; hands out, as if to say, "God, whatever You want is totally okay with me. The adversity, the questions, the hard times... Bring it on. You are in control. I'm so honored that You would use me."

I want God to see me like that.

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