Luke 1:39-45
"At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah's home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit."
After the angel leaves, after the yes is spoken, after the weight of what just happened settles over her like a cloak, Mary does not sit still. She gets ready and she hurries. She travels from Nazareth to the hill country of Judea. That is a journey of roughly eighty miles. On foot. Through terrain that is not kind. A teenage girl, pregnant, walking for days to get to someone who would understand.
I love this about Mary. She just received the most overwhelming news in human history and her first instinct is community. She does not isolate. She does not retreat into her room and process alone. She goes to the one person who would get it. Her relative Elizabeth, who is also carrying a miracle child in her old age. Mary knows something we forget. The weight of God's calling is too heavy to carry by yourself.
When Mary arrives, Elizabeth's baby leaps in her womb. John the Baptist, still unborn, recognizes the presence of Jesus, still unborn. Two babies. Two miracles. Two women who had every reason to be confused and afraid, and instead they meet in the middle and they celebrate. Elizabeth speaks the words every pregnant teenager in history has needed to hear. "Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her." Faith recognized faith. Joy met joy. And the journey that would lead to the manger began with a visit between two women who trusted God with their impossible situations.
Who is your Elizabeth. Who is the person you can run to when the news is too big to hold alone. Not the person who will give you advice. The person who will recognize the miracle in your arms and say, "I see what God is doing. I believe it with you." We were not made to walk this road solo. The Christian life is not a solo performance. It is a chorus.
I think about the times I have tried to carry things alone. The grief I swallowed because I did not want to be a burden. The fear I hid behind a smile. The prayer I did not share because it felt too fragile. Every time, the weight grew heavier. Every time, the isolation made the darkness darker. God did not design us to be lone rangers. He designed us to be a family. To show up at each other's doors in the hill country and say, "I need you. I need you to remind me that God is still good."
"Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her."
Today I am thinking about the people in my life who have been my Elizabeth. The ones who showed up and believed with me when I could not believe for myself. I am grateful for them. And I am asking God to make me that person for someone else. The one who opens the door, who recognizes the miracle, who speaks blessing over the impossible. Because the journey always begins with a visit. And the visit always begins with love.
With the eighth candle lit and gratitude for every Elizabeth who has ever opened her door to me, I am hitting the road toward someone who needs me today. Claire