Her story:
Other than Eve, hers is a story I’m betting you can tell me—whether you ever stepped inside a church, or not.
Mary.
Engaged. Visited by an angel: “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” Told she was pregnant and would give birth, even though a virgin. Trusted and protected by Joseph, who became her husband. Gave birth in a stable because there was no room in the inn; her son wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger. Shepherds visited on the advice of more angels. Wise men followed a star to find her and her baby. A lifetime of joy and fear, hope and worry, and much, much grief.
I was raised to not give much attention to Mary . . . that was what the Catholics did (and I was not to fall prey to that heresy). In my early 20s I met a woman who was to become one of my dearest friends—and still is. She grew up Catholic and though personally lapsed, would sometimes tell me about her mother’s rosary’s, how one day she would inherit all of them, how despite all the tragedy their family had known, her mother’s prayers to Mary always persisted. Something in me was envious of this: the jewelry, to be sure; more, the steadfast reliance on a saint’s compassion and presence, her trust that Mary heard her heart.
Decades later when attending seminary and learning far more about the origins of the Protestant faith (all of which originated in Catholicism, by the way) I also learned more about Mary, why she has been venerated and honored, the distinction she holds, the solace she has offered so many . . . and does still.
Read through these quotes. They begin to capture just how much trust and “presence” is to be found in this woman and her story.
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