Maternity Leave

I found out I was pregnant on Good Friday this past year. While family, friends, colleagues, and church didn’t know at the time, it was probably the one Good Friday service where I smiled the most. Easter felt especially robust and exciting as I was singing “Alleluia” with this little baby in my belly. This pregnancy was met with a lot of hope, excitement, and joy as my husband and I had been praying for such a miracle for many months. 

As we shared with our closest relatives and friends first, it felt surreal and like I was in a dream. I would often catch myself thinking, “I’m pregnant…whoa…is this really happening?” Excitement abounded. It felt like November was so far off and distant, that it didn’t seem like a current reality, but rather a distant reality that future-Marcy would one day work through. Now, as I am on the precipice of my baby’s arrival, I’m met with a lot of emotions. 

Over the last few months I’ve been sitting with the story of Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a guidepost in this season of life. Not to equate that my child will be Jesus (at all!), but that Mary’s story of pregnancy and motherhood is one that has given me great peace, especially as we too will make our way towards the manger in just a few short weeks. 

Mary does three things in the birth narrative found in Luke: she asks questions, she’s in community, she treasured time with her baby. 

Mary asks more questions than most women in the Gospel accounts. She dares to question her life trajectory to the angel Gabriel, and even questions whether or not she is able to handle such a task, being a mother to the Messiah. What I’ve gleaned from her testimony is that God isn’t put off by my questions that come from an open and curious heart. The questions I have had about my baby and what parenthood will bring are good. And the questions the church has had are good. There are a lot of questions in the air. I’ve wondered what my child will be like, what will postpartum be like, and how will I change in the face of a miracle–and yet what does the angel say in the midst of these curious questions? “Nothing will be impossible with God.”

Amid her questions, Mary is in community. She visits Elizabeth, and even worships with Elizabeth through the Magnificat. She’s with Joseph, and probably several unnamed midwives. She’s with shepherds, angels, Simeon, Anna, and others in the temple as Jesus is presented. Mary doesn’t do this alone, and I certainly haven’t either. There has been an overflow of love, support, and care for this baby already. Prayers from parishioners, wisdom from moms I’ve met in parking lots, friends who come drop off meals, and family who check in with me daily. The sentiment of “it takes a village” has already begun, as it did for Mary. For that I am grateful. None of us, myself included, do anything alone but are always encouraged and invited to be in community with one another–in all seasons of life. 

Lastly, something that has struck me is that Mary treasured a lot of time with her baby. Of course she was from a different culture and different age. Her son was the savior of the world. She and Joseph and her child were refugees. Yet what has stood out to me is that Jesus is presented in the temple and the next time we hear about him is when he’s twelve. I wondered a lot about that time between forty days old and twelve years old. What did Mary learn? How did Mary cope with giving birth? Was Jesus colicky? What were his first words? What did Mary see that no other person would ever see? While I’m not taking twelve years of maternity leave, I see that there is great power and beauty for a parent and their child to bond without the world peeking in to see what’s going on. Mary knew Jesus far greater and differently than any other person would ever. 

Being a pastor on maternity leave, I have found that there’s been unease within myself as I embark on taking time away from my church during my favorite season of the year. Yet with Mary I find there to be a great peace within as I welcome my baby into the wild and holy world we live in. I invite you all this Advent to join me with the posture of Mary, Mother of Jesus. Ask questions. Be in community. Treasure time with your beloved. I believe that when we do this it won’t be considered a “leave,” but rather a “welcome” into whatever season we may be in.



Editor’s Note: Samuel David was born on December 4. Congratulations to his parents, the Revs. Marcy and Gene Ryan. Welcome, Samuel! May blessings abound.