The first chapter was about Elizabeth, mother of John. Elizabeth, who for many years was infertile, was overjoyed for Mary at the news of her pregnancy. She never mentions her own struggles to young Mary when she came to visit, pregnant and unwed. The secon chapter was about Anna, the prophet, and her wait for the Savior. Why do these two weigh on my heart so much?
Those that have known me for a long time, and know my history, probably can see some of the reasons. In late 2007, my hubby and I started trying to have a family. By June of 2008, I was still not pregnant and was fairly certain there was a problem. I suggested to the doctor that I felt like either it was PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) or a thyroid issue. I was really hoping for the thyroid as that is usually easily fixed. I wasn't so lucky. It was PCOS and I was referred to a specialist.
Due to Hurricane Ike, I didn't get to see my specialist until November. After meeting with her and running tests, she told me, in the kindest terms possible, that I would likely never get pregnant without medical help. At $1400 a MONTH, which insurance would not cover, we couldn't even begin to dream of it. I was devastated. I had wanted to be a mommy for so long and the dream seemed gone. I identify so much with Elizabeth. She couldn't have children, and in those days it was considered as an issue with your spiritual well being.
Well, getting the diagnosis hurt mine. I was depressed. I absolutely had a crisis of faith. Why would God let people who had no business being parents get pregnant but not me? While I was always happy for friends who got pregnant during that time, I couldn't always face the pain of my own condition. You see I wasn't strong like Elizabeth.
Throughout those years, I prayed like Anna. I waited. My husband, my rock told me that it would happen in God's time. I wanted to believe. I wanted to have that kind of faith. I knew that God would make a path for either conception or for adoption at some point. I knew it in my soul.
But it was hard to be patient and wait. Anna waited until a very old age to see and proclaim Jesus as the CHRIST. I imagine during that time that she was a young widow, she wondered what her role would be, since she wasn't a mother or a wife. I was a wife but not a mother. And I, too, wondered what my role was as I waited.
Looking back, I know what it was. I was a teacher. As a high school teacher, I am all too aware of how I am perceived by society. Many don't think much of what we do. "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach." Never mind that it is a gross misstatement of most of the teachers I know. Think back to one teacher that made a difference in your life. I bet someone springs to mind. I have several. Teachers who loved me through my unloveable stages. Teachers who mentored me into this career. Teachers who were like a second (third, fourth) mother. Teachers who I could come to with anything. If I named them here, I would, invariably, leave someone out so I choose not to name them. So many of them were, and still are, special to me and dear to my heart.
Today, I had a moment where I understood that I have made a difference in the lives of my students, even when I was in deep depression and couldn't see my way straight. I have a former student who recently had a baby. This little baby is only 5 pounds (perfectly healthy, just petite!) and doesn't fit, yet, into the cloth diapers her mommy has for her. So I met up with my former student and gave her our tiny newborn sized cloth to use until the little princess is bigger.
When I got home, my student and I got into a conversation on Facebook. And as she thanked me, I reminded her of something that I always told them, "You are my kids. And once my kid, always my kid." They were (and are) my babies. Even when I didn't have kids living in my home, those students were MINE and NO ONE was allowed to mess with them. Huh, maybe I was a mother even during my dark days.
I wonder if that was kind of how Elizabeth felt about Mary? As though Mary, her cousin, was HERS. In the days when being pregnant out of wedlock and with someone other than your betrothed was seriously bad news, Elizabeth loved Mary, took care of Mary, and didn't judge Mary. Elizabeth laid claim to her. Maybe, just maybe, I am more like Elizabeth than I ever thought. I like that.
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