The Annunciation

The Annunciation

The Annunciation
Read Time: 3.5 – 4 minutes

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you!” ~ Luke 1:26-28

 A number of years ago I attended a youth conference in Peace River.  I can’t remember who the speaker was, but he was American and cost a lot of money!  He began the opening day by speaking about the Annunciation.  He explained that Mary would have been terrified with this unexpected visit from a spiritual apparition.  (We do have evidence of this as the Angel Gabriel said, “Fear not…”.) What will Anne and Joachim say?  How will I explain this to Joseph?  This is a huge responsibility. I’m afraid. I’m too young. He tried to enlighten his audience through a secular lens in lieu of a spiritual lens. This upset one of the attendees considerably and she left the room.

I often think of this encounter when I reflect on this momentous event in the life of Mary. Many artists have tried to depict this moment in time, but this painting by Henry Ossawa Tanner touches my soul.  It helps me to meditate more deeply as I reflect on the First Joyful Mystery. Here, we peer into the home in Nazareth and view a young girl confronted by an inexplicable mystery.  How must she have felt to be assigned such a pivotal role in the lives of humanity? Did she say, “No way! Don’t pick me.”? No, she said, “Let it be done to me according to God’s will.” (Luke 1:38) Guided by FAITH, HUMILITY and TRUST, she said, “yes”.

Lord, I pray that my heart be open to your plan for my life. Let me die to sadness, selfishness and worry and be an instrument of faith, humility and trust.  May I be a tapestry in your hands.

The Tapestry Poem by Corrie Ten Boom

My Life is but a weaving
between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper,
And I the underside.

Not til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver’s skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares,
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those
Who leave the choice with Him.    

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