If your family is anything like mine, Pentatonix has been crowding your home with the rhetorical question “Mary, did you know?” for at least a fortnight. As I was walking this morning, I found myself thinking about all the things Mary probably did know far ahead of me as a mother.

I am so thankful that Christ sanctified every stage of human life from infancy to childhood, to young adulthood. I am also thankful to know that Mary walked through the various stages of mothering — and made it through all of them (even the un-welcomed stage of losing a child that no parent should have to experience). I am so grateful that the Spirit saw fit to prod Luke to share, “But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2: 19). There is a world within those few words, and I find solace and space within it.

I’ve mentioned before that, during the early years of motherhood, my task and territory as a mother felt as large as the Sahara Dessert. The challenge in that season was to be stretched beyond my imagined capacity and far beyond my felt strength, to come alongside God in shaping the souls of my sons. Now that I am parenting teenagers, I feel an equal but opposite challenge: my role seems to be shrinking to the size of a small sandbox. The Lord is teaching me how to rightly shrink to come alongside Him in the shaping of souls. That’s a lot of stretching and shrinking for a human heart and a sentient soul.

It helped me on my walk this morning to know that other mothers, not least the mother of our Mighty God, have walked this path before me, holding space for both wonder and loss, brokenness and beauty.

What Mary Knew

Mary, I think you intuitively knew
Making space in a stable was just the start
To the quietly intrusive process 
Wherein a mother makes space in her heart.

Mary, I think you instinctively knew 
A mother’s heart is ever under construction—
Annexing area, warehousing wonder—
While preparing for future reduction.

Mary, I think you innately knew 
The womb merely mirrors the soul—
Stretching, straining, then shrinking
So another may become whole.

Mary, I don’t think you could ever know
The model you offer this mother.
You gave a glimpse of His sacrifice,
In laying desires down for another. 

Mary, I know that one day I’ll know
The joy of a difficult job well done.
I’ll stand side by side with my sons,
Complete in the presence of your Son.

Momma, whether you find yourself overwhelmed by the expanse of Saharan-sized needs or grieving the tight confines of a sand box, I pray that you would know the Savior who stands beside you, the empowerment of the Spirit who dwells within you, and the pleasure of the Father who beams over you and your children.