“Oh, how my soul praises the Lord. How my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!“
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I tend to be up early these days, and I sit in the darkness of our living room and think about my day, and ask God for help with this dilemma or that, and wait for dawn. One day last week, while the sun still slept, I heard a bird outside my window.
It startled me, not only because my world was still covered in darkness, but because it was also covered by snow. We hadn’t had a winter like this in decades. I loved it, but after several heavy snowfalls over the course of two weeks, it did feel like the world was frozen in winter and that spring may never come.
But then, that bird. It didn’t sing long, but the song stayed with me all day. Because it felt like the herald of spring. I could see no light outside except for the brightness of moonlight on the snow, but a sun was coming, and my frozen world would thaw. I would till my garden soon, and plant the seeds I’ve been collecting.
Charles Spurgeon said, “Singing is the natural language of joy.” That’s what the bird’s song spoke to me. And that’s what Mary’s Magnificat spoke to the world she lived in, and to every generation thereafter. Joy.
Was she facing a challenge no other woman ever faced, and the certainty of gossip and scandal and rejection? Absolutely. But in the darkness of her room, Mary couldn’t contain her joy. Whatever pain this would bring her, God would see her through. Light was coming, and with it hope. Death’s clutch on humanity would end, and there would be a spring. And she was the first to know.