standing with hope

By Kristina Jones

Mary—what a woman, what a story. No shiny platform, no birth photography, no perfect hair or outfit. Just a humble servant: young, ordinary, willing. She said yes to carrying the most weighty assignment in history—baby Jesus—without glamour, without ease. Mothering under impossible circumstances.

She was judged for her scandalous pregnancy.

Made to take a lonely, isolating journey full of fear and uncertainty.

A birth in unsafe conditions, with no midwife, no doctor, no comfort.

Revealed first to those on the margins of society by the angels. Salvation for all people.

Afterward, she fled for safety with Joseph, protecting their child from those hunting him.

“But Mary treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.”

Later, Mary at the cross—grief and anguish but seeing the promise fulfilled. Her son, the perfect sacrifice. Mary saw her son ascend. Then widowed, waiting in the upper room, Jesus back on the inside, forever, through the Spirit.

There’s a song I discovered this season, “Like Mary” by Jess Ray and Langdon that resonates deeply:

“May I be like Mary

It is God that I am bearing

I want to make Him flesh and blood again

And bear Him in my brokenness

That we may see what we could not see

And touch what was out of reach

And we may know what we could not know

And hold what we could not hold

May it be done to me, May it be done to me…”

On this day, December 11th, 2009—a bittersweet yes. A mother who could not parent surrendered her baby boy to a young couple. I was young and unmarried when I first felt the call to foster. I was young and married on that day I was told I could officially become a mother.

We had met him exactly nine months earlier, March 11. “Will you take this baby? Remember the goal is always to reunify.” Yes. We said yes. It will be worth it. God will equip us to parent him to the best of our ability, however long we get to.

Fast forward to 2025—I am still young, now widowed, finishing the call to parent, but solo. My oldest, the doe-eyed boy is just shy of six feet tall and six months from adulthood. I’ve got two other boys on the way to adulthood.

I have parented with a husband and now without-always with mistakes, tears, and uncertainty. And yet God has whispered the same invitation:

Let your kids see the love of God through you-the strength he provides. Let them see that Jesus is real.

Mary changed the world through humble obedience.

And maybe that’s the invitation for us too:

Bringing the light into dark places.

Breathing hope.

Letting love become tangible—Jesus through our arms, our homes, our daily yes.