If you're wondering who I am, I am 20 years old and a recent college grad. I love to act, dance, read, write, and sing. For me, these are all forms of worship to my Jesus. I love action movies, sci-fi, crime dramas, and romantic comedies, and I am pretty much obsessed with Ted Dekker novels. I am a relentless God chaser, a daughter of the King, and the beloved bride of Jesus Christ.
Hey, girls! A Beauty Glorious is a place for mainly teen girls - although anyone is welcome - where we can talk about what it means to be young women and daughters of God.
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The past week has been horrible. It feels like God broke my heart and then abandoned me. I don’t know how to trust him right now, but I know it my gut that I have to. It’s the only thing I can do. Joseph’s gone, my parents are half-convinced I’m crazy… the only one I have left is God. Except it feels like he has also deserted me.
GOD! You can’t do this to me. You have no right. Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me here? What about all that “plans to bring you a hope and a future” stuff? How is this bringing anyone a hope and a future? This isn’t what I signed up for. As a matter of fact, I didn’t sign up at all!
I wanted to just marry Joseph, live in Nazareth close to my parents, have kids someday, and basically live a normal life with the man I love. Then that first day when you chose me, I knew it would change everything, but… not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
I just don’t understand. I know that you have a plan, but I feel so lost not knowing what it is. Can you at least promise me—and I mean PROMISE ME—that it will all be okay?
Can I still trust you? Can you heal my broken heart? Can you still use this mess?
I keep saying I trust you, but I’ve reached a breaking point, and I’m not sure anymore. I do want to trust you, though. I really do. If anyone in the universe deserves my trust, it’s you.
The honest truth is: I am scared, confused, and just plain lonely. God, I need you again. I need you like I did that day in the field. I need you to help me trust you. Give me faith.
I don’t know how to do this right now… but maybe trust is a choice, not a feeling.
So right now, God, this is me making my decision. I choose to trust you because I believe you know what you’re doing. I don’t get it, but I trust that your plan is better than mine.
God, you are good. No matter what, you are always God and you are always good. I love you.
I still don’t know what Dad has to say. I think he and Mom must have talked, because now he stares at me in the weirdest way, as though he expects me to either sprout wings or horns and he hasn’t decided which.
I want my parents to believe me. They’re my parents; they’ve always believed in me. I hate the thought of going through this alone. But even if they don’t… I’m going to be okay. I have God on my side. He won’t leave me hanging.
And then there’s Joseph. I’ve been avoiding him. That was probably a really bad idea, but I don’t know how to tell him about any of this, the pregnancy thing or the Messiah thing, and I can’t stand the idea of hanging out with him while acting like nothing was wrong. After talking with Mom, though, I realized I couldn’t put it off any longer. God was with me when I talked to her, and he will be with me when I talk to Joseph, too.
I’m going to go over to his house right after dinner.
LATER—
I don’t know how I’m going to get through writing this. I just used up a whole box of tissues. This is, without a doubt, the worst day of my life.
So here’s what happened. I bumped into Joseph about half way. I hadn’t seen him in a while, and for a second he kind of took my breath away. Those strong, tan woodworker’s arms, the quick smile, those sparkly eyes that always make my heart light up… I remember thinking, Is it bad to say that my fiancé is freaking hot?!
As soon as Joseph saw me, he wrapped me up in a big hug. He smelled like Old Spice and sawdust. He mumbled into my hair something about how worried he’s been, and he missed me, and is everything okay… and all I could do was hug him tighter, because I didn’t know if he was ever going to speak to me again after I told him the truth.
I finally pulled back and said, “Joseph, we need to talk.”
He said, “Is it about the honeymoon? I know I said we couldn’t afford the beach, but I know how much it means to you so I worked something out so we can spend the whole week there—”
How sweet is that?! That’s so much just like him. Always trying to go above and beyond to make me happy.
“No, it’s not about the honeymoon, but I have something I have to tell you, and I’m afraid it’ll make you hate me, but it’s not what it sounds like so I need you to hear me out all the way through, because I love you, I love you so much, do you believe me?”
I realized I was crying and babbling, which were two things I had definitely not planned on doing, but at least it had gotten his attention. Joseph took my face in his hands and said, “Of course I believe you. I love you, Mary, and nothing you can say will ever, EVER make me hate you.”
So of course I kept crying and hugging him some more, clinging to him while he stroked my hair and I gulped for breath. Then finally, I whispered into his shoulder, “I’m pregnant.”
Immediately, I felt him tense. He froze with his hand in mid-stroke. He slowly pulled backwards and looked at me with a face I had never seen before. It was like stone, and it scared me. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse.
“Who?”
“God.”
Joseph blinked. He stared at the ground, a heavy frown engraved on his brow. I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of every second.
“Please say something,” I whispered.
“Mary.” At his whisper I opened my eyes. “What was it about me that wasn’t enough?”
“Nothing!” I took a step forward. “I love you, Joseph, and I swear by the God of our fathers that I have been faithful to you. An angel appeared to me, and at first I could hardly believe it myself, but it’s true. This baby is sent straight from God. He will be the Messiah to save all of Israel. I have been chosen, Joseph.” I felt the tears leaking out again.
“Hundreds of years of waiting and you expect me to believe the Messiah has come to you?” Joseph shook his head.
My heart fell. You’d think my own husband-to-be would believe me!
“I’m sorry, I know how it sounds, I just—” I was babbling again
Abruptly, he took my face in his hands. They were warm and rough. “No no no, listen, listen—I love you, Mary, and we can work through this if you only tell me the truth. I promise, it will all be okay. So please, just tell me—what happened?”
Oh, Joseph! My heart melted and I thought about giving in. I could just tell him it was a boy from school, or a soldier passing through town. I could confess to betraying the man I love in order to keep him mine. It would be so easy. Joseph had promised to forgive me. He would protect me, and marry me, and raise the baby as his own. Maybe that’s what God intended all along.
But—no. NO! I could not betray the God who had so blessed me. I could not deny what he had done. I could not bring this holy baby into the world under a lie!
Even if it meant losing my fiancé.
I lifted my head and looked him in the eye. “I just told you what happened.”
Joseph took his hands down and turned away from me. My face suddenly felt cold. He stood with his back to me, his strong hands clasped behind him. “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes.” I could hardly get the word out.
He nodded, and his voice turned formal, but he couldn’t hide from me the shaking underneath. “I’ll keep my promise, Mary. I could never hate you. But I can’t marry someone who will betray me and then lie to me.”
I stood staring at the ground. “I understand.”
He hesitated, said, “I’m sorry,” and then he was gone.
I don’t know how long I stood there. All I know is that by the time I turned around to walk back home, the sun had fallen behind the hills.
God, why?? Why must the greatest miracle the world has ever known cost me so much? Before all this happened, it was like Joseph was my own personal miracle. I didn’t ask for anything more. Why did you give me Joseph only to take him away? He was the best thing in my life, and now I feel like a piece of my heart has been ripped out. Are you really going to leave me to raise your son alone, as a single mother? God? I trusted you, and I stayed true to you, and this is how you repay me?
I couldn’t wait any longer. It wouldn’t be long before Mom suspected something was up, and I’d much rather tell her than let her draw her own conclusions.
Yesterday we were in the kitchen together, and I guess I was smiling and humming as we chopped vegetables. I could hardly help it; I’ve been in such a good mood ever since what happened in the field last week. It’s as if I see God everywhere I look, and I’m so aware of him all the time. I still can’t believe what’s happening to me—that God reached down from heaven and touched me! It’s like David wrote: “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”
Anyway, Mom saw me randomly smiling at the carrots and she started teasing me, “Can’t you even make dinner without daydreaming about that fiancé of yours?” I laughed, but I had to admit to myself that I hadn’t even been thinking about Joseph right then. Then I started thinking, It’s not fair that I don’t tell her about this. She’s my mother, she deserves to know. But—what if she doesn’t believe me? I’m going to look like the most wacked-out liar… God, help me. Let her trust me. She’s my mom, I can’t bear for her to condemn me.
I felt again the echo of what God had told me in the field, Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. I took a deep breath and said, “Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
Mom looked sideways at me, still chopping. “Oh?”
“Yeah… I was working in the garden last month… and I saw something.”
“Like an animal?”
“No… more like an angel.”
I gave that one a moment. Mom’s hands hesitated on the knife, but she asked casually, “And what did the angel say?”
“He said that God was pleased with me and I will bear a son.”
Long pause. Chop, chop, chop. Finally Mom said, “Well, God willing, maybe you will someday—”
“I’m pregnant now, Mom.”
Oops. I’d planned to ease into that a little more.
Mom stopped chopping and turned to look at me. Her eyes were the biggest I’d ever seen them.
“You’re pregnant.”
“It’s not what you think, Mom, I didn’t—”
“You’re pregnant?!”
“Yes, but I didn’t do anything!”
“What do you mean, you didn’t do anything? You went and got yourself pregnant, Mary, what were you thinking? You’re an engaged woman, you couldn’t wait a few more months? Does Joseph know?”
“No—”
“Your father’s going to kill him.”
A shock of fear bolted through me. “It’s not Joseph’s fault, I swear!”
Mom hissed something under her breath. I was terrified to think what it was. “Then who—”
“Nobody!”
“Mary, you have to tell us—”
“I told you, I didn’t do anything!”
I stood there trembling, clenching the knife to keep my hands from shaking. Mom stood in front of me, her neck and lips tight as a bowstring.
I sighed and put one hand protectively over my stomach. “The angel said my son would be the King of Israel. I’m supposed to name him Jesus. The power of God came over me; I don’t even know how it happened, but Mom, my baby is the son of… of God.”
There it was. I’d said it. Now not only would I be stoned for adultery, but I would also be dragged before the priest for blasphemy, or shipped off to a mental hospital. Or all three.
Even as I imagined that future, though, I couldn’t be scared. As I told my Mom what the angel had told me, I realized that I really, really do believe it. God has his hand on me. He has chosen me. The baby inside me, this boy that I will name Jesus, will be the salvation of Israel. God won’t let anything happen to him, or to me. He is God’s appointed Messiah. God’s own son.
Mom just stared at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I realized that nothing in Mom School had ever prepared her for this.
So she just turned back to the vegetables—chop, chop, chop—and said, “We’ll see what your father has to say.” I noticed that her hands were shaking.
The angel said that my son will be a great king. That’s got to mean the Messiah. I’ve heard the prophecies a million times. He will be a descendant of King David, just like the angel told me. That makes sense; my dad always said our family is descended from King David. The Messiah will rule the world and make all people fear God. We have been waiting for him for centuries upon centuries.
What would it mean for me to be the mother of a great king? Will I have a special position in his court? Will he be too busy saving the world to spend time with me? I will have to leave Nazareth, of course. There’s no room for a palace around here. I wonder if he’ll be embarrassed to come from such a humble family? When the newspapers interview him and ask about his background, I wonder if he’ll be ashamed to say his mother was a poor girl from Nazareth, and that his whole birth was a total scandal?
It boggles my mind to imagine it, my son as a great king. I don’t know the first thing about royalty. I know even less about this kind of royalty, the kind sent from God to rescue Israel and set up a kingdom that will never end!
We’re in all new territory now. I guess all I can do is trust one day at a time. This baby inside me and his whole life are in God’s hands.
God met me again today. Twice in one lifetime… this is more than I ever dreamed. I feel like I’m living in the Scriptures.
I was out in the field just taking a walk, and when I was sure that no one was looking, I started rubbing my hand on my stomach. I know it’s way too early to feel anything yet, but just the thought that there was a tiny life growing inside me brought butterflies. Then when I imagined who this baby is, the Messiah, the son of God, Immanuel, the prophesied king of Israel, I started having a royal freak-out session. I sat in the dirt hugging my knees and hyperventilating, just shaking all over. All I could do was rock, cry, gasp—and pray. I prayed harder than I ever thought I could. I begged God to help me. I begged him to let my family understand. I begged him to tell me why. I almost begged him to just take this away. I cried out to him like David not to leave me alone in this—to help me have faith.
And then something happened. It came like a warm breeze, caressing my shoulders and wrapping around my body. It was peace, comfort, and so much love, more love than I had ever felt in my life. I felt held and protected. I felt like the hand of God was holding me, like his arms were wrapped around me and his voice was whispering in my ear. All the promises of Scripture I had ever learned came flooding back into my mind. It was as if he were saying to me personally, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans for peace and not for evil, plans to bring you a hope and a future. Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
Slowly I felt the trembling melt away. Instead of fear I felt only peace and trust. Faith. Assurance. I still don’t know why on earth God chose me, and I still have no idea what’s going to happen. I have no more answers than before, but now I know that I am not alone. Whatever happens, my God will be with me. He promised to be.
I found a verse in Isaiah that I think is talking about me. Now there’s a crazy thought. Hundreds of years ago, God’s prophet was telling Israel about me.
“But the LORD will still give you proof. A virgin is pregnant; she will have a son and will name him Immanuel.”
Immanuel – I looked it up and apparently it means “God with us.” Wow. I’ve always seen God as pretty distant. I mean, I know he loves his people and hears our prayers, but he’s… God. In heaven, far away. Or in the temple, in Jerusalem. And we’re just lowly humans. We’re not even allowed to speak his true name. If God could be really with us... I mean really really really WITH us... that would be something new altogether.
Why me? Why out of all the girls in Israel did God choose me to carry his chosen one? What did I ever do to deserve this?
I still haven’t told anyone yet. I don’t know when or how. I’ll have to sooner or later. Gulp.
Needless to say, I’m thrilled and honored that God chose me for this, but there are two things that are worrying me. One is… I’m fourteen. I’m pregnant. And I only just got engaged.
Anna down the street got pregnant last year. She was hardly older than me, and definitely not married. Everyone whispered for days, and then… she disappeared. I haven’t seen her since. Some people say they stoned her to death.
I can kind of understand that, actually. It is in God’s law. God told Moses that if an engaged woman is caught having sex outside of marriage, “Take them both to the town gate and stone them to death. You must get rid of the evil they brought into your community.”
That isn’t exactly what happened to me, of course, but when my belly starts showing, what are they supposed to think? I notice that nowhere does it say, “unless the woman got pregnant without having sex.” Yeah, that would have been helpful.
Listen to me. My life is hanging in the balance—not to mention the whole future of the world—and here I am making jokes. It’s a miracle I’m still holding it together at all.
Then there’s the other thing. I’m engaged to a wonderful man who loves me like I’ve always wanted to be loved. I love him too, with all my heart and soul. If I tell him about this, it will break his heart. When I accepted that ring, it was as if I was marrying him already. I made a promise. I said that I would be only his till death do us part. He believed me. What will he think when he finds out? He’ll think I lied, that I was just playing with his feelings. He’ll think I never loved him as much as he loves me. He’ll think the whole time we’ve been together was just a big lie.
It will crush him.
People have killed themselves over less.
But it’s not like that. I do love him. I meant all the things I said. I have never lied to him once, not once. He gave me his heart, and now I’m about to break it. But what else can I do?
God, I hope it’s not selfish for me to pray for myself when you’re busy arranging the salvation of Israel here. But please, let Joseph understand. Let him still love me. And please, don’t let my parents stone me to death. Remember your promises to Israel. Help me to stay faithful to you no matter what happens. Amen.
