Appx 6 x 6 inches (15 x 15 cm)
Prismacolor colored pencils on toned paper

I grew up on a farm. Every year on Christmas Eve, my parents used to walk with my sister and I out to the ancient red barn at the edge of our property. Huddled together in the dark, surrounded by derelict farm equipment and dirty hay, we would read the Christmas Story out loud by flashlight. 
This year, I find myself thinking more than usual about that Christmas Eve tradition. Perhaps it's the sickness and uncertainty that hangs so heavy over us this year, but I find myself strongly affected by the reality of Mary's pregnancy and childbirth. The threat of illness and the fear of death - in a stranger's barn, in a faraway town, on what must have felt like a pointless and costly journey mandated by a distant empire's whims. How exhausting. How terrifying. How unfair. 

Reflecting on all this brings new meaning to Mary's prayer in Luke 1: 
"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, 
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant. 
From this day all generations will call me blessed: 
the Almighty has done great things for me, 
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation. 
He has shown the strength of his arm, 
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, 
and has lifted up the lowly. 
He has filled the hungry with good things, 
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel
for he remembered his promise of mercy, 
the promise he made to our fathers, 
to Abraham and his children forever."

Magnificat anima mea Dominum...
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