And Mary said:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;
my spirit rejoices in God my savior.
For he has looked upon his handmaid’s lowliness;
behold, from now on will all ages call me blessed.
The Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is from age to age
to those who fear him.
He has shown might with his arm,
dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart.
He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones
but lifted up the lowly.
The hungry he has filled with good things;
the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped Israel his servant,
remembering his mercy,
according to his promise to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
— Luke 1: 46-55

Most people choose a hymn like “Hail Mary, Gentle Woman” for the presentation of a flower to Our Lady during their Nuptial Mass. Ben and I chose “Holy Is His Name,” which is a variation of the Magnificat prayer sung to a Celtic tune. There has always been something cherished, beloved about imagining Mary’s humility and depth of pondering in this prayer.

It is about mercy, hope, strength, remembrance, and promises – all of which encompass graces upon which we draw from God throughout the tumult and triumphs of life. Here is a brief meditation on certain excerpts that have meant the most to me, and I pray they are a comfort to you, as well.

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (46-47).

There are times, Lord, I forget my littleness and Your grandeur. I get stuck in the mundane tasks of everyday life in this modern culture, and prayer becomes a shadow, a specter, some distant thing I do rather than breathe in. Yet there are moments each day, moments I least expect, when You open up space and time for me to enter into the sanctuary of my heart and listen. There is silence, however brief.

And I ponder, alongside Mary, the vast truth of Your greatness – that You hold everything in Your hand. All of my pain, every doubt or temptation, my sins, my weaknesses, the noise in our house – You hold it all. And You have redeemed it all. What You ask of me in those moments is to simply let go of pretense and enter into the grace of Your mercy, drawing upon its wellspring. For this, I am eternally grateful.

“His mercy is from age to age to those who fear him” (50).

A lot of people cringe when they read the words “fear him” in the Bible. Fear is not a friend to us; for many in this day, it conjures up memories of trauma, tragedy, and uncertainty. But the kind of fear to which we are called is a holy fear, or rather, not fear at all. It is a simultaneous acknowledgment of Your greatness and our lowliness.

In that recognition, my soul is compelled to honor You, to thank You, to praise You. My heart understands the truth that this is not a fear that draws me away, but toward You. It is an awesome wonder at how You give me chance after chance each day to return to You with my whole heart. That is the essence of Your mercy.

“He has filled the hungry with good things; the rich he has sent away empty” (53).

There is so much injustice, so much inequality in the world. Heavenly Father, You know this and You lament it. What breaks my heart also breaks Yours. I think so often of those who do not share my privilege of a fine home, healthy food, clean water, and new clothing. There are so many who lack what I take for granted every day. 

I remember Your promise to care for all of Your people here – sometimes, often times, through me and the gifts You have given me to share. I don’t want to squander all that I have, but instead to be open to the ways in which You are asking me to give away more and more, that I might know of the true interior riches that await a heart that is poor in spirit.