Breath of Heaven

Breath of Heaven (All of a Sudden) x Elevation Worship

“‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May your word to me be fulfilled.’ Then the angel left her.” —Luke 1:38 (NIV)

This Christmas season, I’ve been reflecting a lot on Mary, the woman chosen to birth Jesus. By the hands of many Christian cultures, she’s been constructed into exalted apparitions that shroud her authenticity. Her full story is often hidden beneath shrines to the miracle of her faith that, deservingly, honor her for her “yes,” but, unfortunately, erase her humanity. 

Before her glorious encounter with one of God’s angels, her life experiences could’ve been considered unremarkable. She was just a young girl from Nazareth, a small village that, among the Jewish people, held a poor reputation. Outside of Israel, it wasn’t even known. So much so that Luke, the Gentile vessel used by the Holy Spirit to pen his namesake book, had to inform readers where Nazareth was. A town in Galilee. Nazareth held no notable celebration of its own. To be “of Nazareth” was almost derogatory, an attempt to rob your name of its worth. Mary, named after Moses’ sister Miriam—who watched over baby Moses in the Nile, leading Pharaoh's daughter to discover him and ensure his survival—had a seemingly prophetic destiny in her life that, even if she had known, the report of her village would’ve disparaged.

Being a Jewish woman, Mary likely couldn’t read or write. However, she would’ve participated in the public reading of the Torah/prophets, the retelling of history passed down from generations, the recitation of poems, and the singing of the psalms.

She knew of the covenants made with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. She forged her own understanding of the God of her ancestors through what He’d done in the past for His people, and she rested in the hope that carried their faith for generations—Yahweh would one day deliver them. The details of His plan were hidden in the very scriptures, poems, songs, and history she knew full well. However, it had yet to be uncovered.

She probably shared in the curiosity of her people, realizing that it had been 400 years since Yahweh had spoken. Complete and utter silence filled the space between their faith and their hope. There were no new prophecies or revelations to give further insight into the plans of Yahweh. But it was reasonable to believe that when deliverance would come to Israel, it couldn’t come through the rural paths of Nazareth. It’s plausible that Mary assumed that this miraculous rescue mission would be one that the people of Nazareth would hear about, not closely partner in.

Mary lived according to the blueprint of her tradition and culture. Palestinians at that time believed women should marry at about thirteen years of age to maximize childbearing and to guarantee their virginity for their husbands. So, Mary preserved her virginity, and at twelve or thirteen years old, she became engaged to a man named Joseph. Joseph was a carpenter who happened also to be a direct descendant of King David. In some regards, he would’ve had legal right to the throne of Israel if Jerusalem hadn’t fallen to the Romans, who decided to appoint their own client rulers. The Romans appointed Herod “the Great” as King of the Jews after he had gained favor from the Roman Senate. His rule began the Herodian dynasty. Consequently, Joseph humbly committed to a career of wood and stone, garnering expertise in the very materials essential to the plan he wouldn’t be alive to see unfold.

After becoming betrothed to Mary, Joseph also moved according to the blueprint of their tradition and culture. They hadn’t consummated their marriage yet, so they weren’t living together as husband and wife. Before they could, they would enter a period of waiting and preparation. Joseph would perfect his trade and build a home for his bride. Both his and Mary’s families would also prepare for the wedding feast during this time. Everything for the wedding would be made by hand, grown, or traded in the market. Therefore, Mary and Joseph anticipated that their time of waiting and preparation would last about a year. In the meantime, Mary likely dreamed of the day Joseph would arrive at her home with a large procession of his family and friends, holding torches and oil lamps. She likely looked forward to the seven-day wedding feast and the day the marriage would be consummated.

Mary was just a young girl, preparing in hopeful expectation for a day that would fulfill her deep desires, bring societal validation, and be marked by sheer joy—because that’s generally what young girls had the opportunity to experience.

However, Gabriel, delivering a message from God, would disrupt all of Mary’s preparations and challenge all of her expectations. Though she was encountering Him now, God had His eyes on her before she was formed, deciding she was the vessel He would use in His plan to right the wrongs of Adam and Eve. Everything, from her lineage to her village to her husband, was providentially pieced together. Her heart was readied for the call before she knew there was one. The moment the Lord asked for her yes was not happenstance. It was a divine composition meeting the human concept of time.

Mary’s “yes” is often isolated to the moment she met Gabriel, and its weight is often reduced. Though we’re not given an elaborate description of her thoughts and emotions, as humans, we should view the ask through a realistic lens. I believe that choosing to overglamourize the moment makes us miss the power and gravity of it. Mary was human, like you and me, and likely grappled with what was being presented to her—even if that wrestle happened after she chose obedience.

Mary said yes, which allowed her to partner in how the Lord would change the course of history. But she was also saying no to the ordinary marriage she likely dreamed of. She was sacrificing her own esteem, as her small village would attach to her a reputation out of their inability to see by faith. She was sacrificing the social validation many live and die for. She was potentially even sacrificing the honor of her husband and the trust of their relationship. She said yes, knowing the law made it legal for Joseph to either bring formal charges against her before a court, where, if found guilty, she could be stoned to death, or choose to divorce her privately. She said yes, knowing the reality of pregnancy and labor. She said yes, knowing the journey of parenthood. She said yes, not knowing what would be required of the child she was tasked to conceive.

She said yes, not knowing that this “yes” wouldn’t even be the most challenging decision she’d have to make. However, this weighty “yes” laid the foundation for the future agreements she’d have to make for God’s plan to unfold.

Joseph, after his own separate encounter with the Lord, chose obedience as well—eliminating many of Mary’s possible worries. Seeing that the Lord ensured she wouldn’t be alone likely gave her the confidence to say, “yes” again when a census decree would require her to leave her hometown while pregnant and journey to Joseph’s ancestral home of Bethlehem.

Receiving confirmation through nearby shepherds who had an encounter with the angel of the Lord likely offered her comfort when looking upon baby Jesus lying in a manger brought some fear of the future.

Seeing how the Lord provided through wise men from eastern lands likely gave her the confidence to escape to Egypt from King Herod’s massacre of the Innocents.

Knowing the Lord would send warnings to protect them likely offered solace as she raised her child in foreign territory.

When they returned to Nazareth after King Herod’s death, they carried with them the testimony of God’s provision and covering, which would likely sustain Mary as she raised Jesus.

When her husband died, these testimonies would keep her as she committed to carrying them in her heart from the moment she received the word of the Lord (Luke 2:19).

Heaven was simultaneously fulfilling prophecy while holding Mary together—keeping her as she gave all that she was for the mercy of God’s plan.

Her faith was being built with every step of obedience. And that faith is what carried her as she wept at the foot of a wooden cross that was soaked in her Son’s blood. Pain that could only be soothed by confidence in the faithfulness of God—His faithfulness to fully accomplish the word He gave her at thirteen.

Mary was a woman tasked to carry a load that, I imagine, felt greater than what she could bear. But she still gave a “yes.” And she continued to. Over and over again, throughout her journey of life. Though imperfect, she gave what she could, and God supplied the strength to hold her together. 

That’s what He asks of us. To say yes, and continue to. Over and over again, throughout our journey of life. Though imperfect, we give what we can, and He supplies the strength to hold us together.

This Christmas season, I’m reflecting on the glory that depends on our “yes.” The realities that can be released and change the course of history.

Though no one will be asked to birth another Savior, every assignment given by the Lord carries the revelation of Him.

There will be opposition, pain, and confusion. It will be overwhelming. It will derail our plans for our lives and cause us to sacrifice all that we never imagined we’d have to. But like Mary, we need a resolve that says the cost is worth it because, “I am Your servant.” I’m not only submitted to Your plan, but I’m willing to be a participant in its fulfillment, no matter what it costs me. This resolve is important because God often asks more of us than we believe we have the capacity, qualifications, character, influence, or background to accomplish. He chooses to operate this way because the dependence we learn to embrace grows our faith, and the fulfillment of His word against the backdrop of our insufficiencies points to His greatness alone.