My four-year-old granddaughter has played with miniature princess figures since she could hold them in her tiny hands. But on her fourth birthday she asked for a baby doll.
None of us thought seriously about the doll request. After all, how could a baby doll compete with beautiful gowns, tiaras, and a make-believe world of castles?
Nonetheless, the request for a baby doll was granted. She opened the gift at her birthday party, and that night―as I helped her parents tuck her into bed―I choked back tears.
Ever so gently, my granddaughter held her baby doll, kissed its face, and then placed it beside her bed “so she won’t get scared at night.” Then she covered it with her own well-worn blankie and promised to check on it.
A holy calling
Mothering grows deep within the hearts of women.
That’s what I think about when I picture Mary, the mother of Jesus, when she “gave birth to her firstborn Son, and she wrapped Him snugly in cloth and laid Him in a feeding trough—because there was no room for them at the lodging place” (Luke 2:7, TLB).
I don’t know how old Mary was, but most people much smarter than me say she was likely around 14-15. Yet, she instinctively knew what to do with her tiny baby boy.
No doubt Mary didn’t sleep much those first few nights as a young mom. She had a baby to hold, feed, and fuss over. As she rocked and comforted Him, I wonder if she spent time dreaming of His future, worrying about what kind of mom she’d be, and hoping Joseph would be a good dad.
Motherhood is a holy calling. Not just for Mary, but for all of us who mother a child. No other person on earth can influence our children in exactly the same way we can. And no one else will ever care about the things we lose sleep over.
I’m not sure Mary experienced a silent night when she gave birth in Bethlehem, but it was a holy one. One set apart by God, filled with the wonder of motherhood and the promise of hope for the whole world.
Whether our silent nights are broken by the cries of a newborn, the whimpering of a feverish child, or the concerns of a troubled teenager, we too can experience a holy night. One ordained by God as we share His love with each child in our care. No matter where we are in our mothering journey, motherhood is a holy calling.
Even as a four-year-old, my granddaughter was learning to be a good mama. That’s because every person on earth is in need of one.
Even Jesus.
