All in Christmas

The Star - A Journey from Darkness to Light

And when they saw the star, they were so ecstatic that they shouted and celebrated with unrestrained joy.

Matthew 2:10, TPT

Walking through the shadowy lands of this life and earth, oh how I long for light. In my efforts, my achievements, and my striving, I find myself falling deeper into the darkness, a darkness that opens up beneath the ache inside me that cannot be filled. No matter how much knowledge, riches, or power I attain, the ache is still there at the gaping mouth of the darkness, darkness which is trying to swallow me whole.

Where is the light? Where is the rescue from this darkness? Falling to my knees in the middle of my abundance (or perhaps it’s in the center of my lack?) I break open to the knowledge that I am incapable of rescuing myself. And there I finally whisper…

“Oh light, if you exist, please shine on me.”

Looking up, I see a glimmer of something on the horizon. It’s hardly enough light for me to even see my fingers in front of my face, but I stand and move toward it, for isn’t it the only light there is? As I slowly walk forward, the light becomes brighter. Somehow it even seems to be moving toward me as I move toward it.


Mother of Jesus.

All these years I’ve known of you. How did I not see who you really were? I thought you were little Mary, meek and mild. But now I see that just couldn’t be.

Mary. Young Mary in Nazareth. An angel of the Lord came to you and told you that you’d conceive and give birth to a son. And yet, you had never been with a man.

No Mary. You weren’t mild and demure and timid. There’s just no way. This was no joke, being told by an angel that you would be with child. And not just that, but to know that within you would grow God’s Son Himself. Mary, dear Mary- God needed a woman of strength, a woman of dreams, a woman with a fiery, fearless soul. He needed a woman who had decided long before that fateful day that she would believe and follow God, regardless of how foolish it made her look.

I bet you were the one who walked around recounting the stories of God’s miracles from long ago, with a light in your eyes because you chose to believe that this great God still existed. I bet you were mocked for your foolish, wide-eyed hope in these ancient tales. I bet as you skipped and sang of Elijah being taken up to heaven in a chariot of fire, that you were hushed and shushed by a jaded generation saying, stop singing, girl. Those things don’t happen anymore. Keep your head down. Be quiet. This ugly life is all you get and you need to stay silent to stay alive.