Often at Christmas time my thoughts turn to Mary. I think about how she must’ve felt being an unwed mother. I wonder about that trek to Bethlehem on the back of a donkey being 9 months pregnant (woof). I think about what a wonder it must have been to hold that teeny, tiny Savior baby. I think of her because I’m a mother and, like in any story, I’m trying to identify with the female character.
This year it’s been different. My thoughts haven’t gone to Mary like they normally do.Read More