A couple of years ago I wrote a piece about Mary and how dumbfounded I was by her. That dumbfoundness continues today. I was reading Margaret Feinberg’s Advent booklet the other day and she touched on the paradox that was Jesus’ life. Think about the paradox that was Mary’s life.
She might have been over the shock of being pregnant and moved on to excitement at this point. She gives birth to the Savior of the world in a cave. When do you think she remembered all those Old Testament prophecies that said how her tiny, first born Son would die?
I think she probably remembered it about the time Luke recorded, “Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.” She’s excited, she’s joyful, she just had her first baby. But wait Isaiah said, “He was wounded for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities…with His stripes we are healed.” Could that be what she’s pondering? The joy and excitement of her son’s birth followed by the harsh reality that would be His death and her salvation?