My gaze traveled from the carefully carved infant snuggled on a mound of hay to the statue-still face of his mother, Mary. Her expression, etched in eternal awe, beckoned to me, as if daring me to consider the questions I’d never been brave enough to ponder in years before. But as I held her divine gaze, I wondered at the God who’d destined this young woman for such a high calling. How had her faith been strong enough to handle such a daunting task? How had she been ready for such an unconventional journey to motherhood? For all the heartache and struggle ahead of her?
