Mary/Carrie, Did You Know?

I had heard the song “Mary, Did You Know?” so many times that it had started to lose its effect on me. Especially when a not-so-great singer performed the “Special Music” at a Sunday service. His heart was in the right place, but his musical pitch was not. I found it difficult to appreciate the message of the song if my face was involuntarily scrunching up, one eye closing, my neck twisting, and my head tilting to one side, as if that would help him hit the right note.

The song itself had been so well loved, which, sadly, meant that it turned into something that was expected… and then overdone… and then almost a joke. Though I still liked the song, I had started to tune it out when I heard it. But on one particular night, the song struck me differently.

I’m pretty sure it was just a weeknight in December, and it wasn’t even a Christmas Eve service. In fact, it was a banquet for church planters in Maryland and Delaware. The food was fine, but mostly I was just thankful that I didn’t have to cook or clean up after this meal. 

My husband and I had an almost-two-year-old daughter at home with a babysitter, and we brought our almost-one-month-old son with us to the banquet. I was sleep-deprived but thankful for a change of scenery from the confines of our house. I was also thankful that my newborn son was sleeping soundly in my arms while various people stood to talk to the group. And then someone stood to sing the “Special Music” for the evening: “Mary, Did You Know?”

I don’t remember who sang or what I thought about his voice. I don’t remember my face involuntarily scrunching up. I do remember hoping that he wouldn’t hit a note that would wake my sleeping son. I think I even covered my son’s tiny ears a little bit with my hands, to protect him from being disturbed. And then I found myself staring at his little face, stroking his baby hand, studying his steady breathing.

… Mary, did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?

Mary, did you know that your baby boy would one day rule the nations?

Did you know that your baby boy is heaven’s perfect Lamb?

That sleeping child you’re holding is the great I Am… 

The song–and the Event–suddenly hit differently. I found myself identifying with young Mary–enamored with her newborn son and probably feeling very protective of Him. I imagine she felt much less certain about her role as His mother than any of us have ever felt about our roles as mothers. And the longer I looked at my perfect-to-me son, I thought about how unbearable it must have been for Mary to look at her actually-perfect Son in light of even a partial understanding of what it was going to mean for Him to be Him. 

I think I held my son a little closer and tighter that night as I considered how necessary it was for Mary to hold her Son with wide open hands. And with gratitude for both of these gifts, I pondered these things in my heart.