Mary’s Submission Did Not Eliminate Her Humanity

 

By Beth Herrington Kruprzak; Hellbender Preserve

When the angel Gabriel spoke to Mary, her response has echoed through generations:

Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.
— Luke 1:38, ESV

These words are often quoted as the pinnacle of submission—and they are. But they were not spoken by someone untouched by fear or uncertainty. Mary was fully human. Her submission did not mean the absence of emotion; it meant the presence of trust.

For a young woman in Nazareth, this calling carried real and immediate danger. According to the traditions and law of her time, a woman found to be pregnant during betrothal could be publicly shamed, divorced, or even stoned for presumed unfaithfulness (Deuteronomy 22:23–24). Mary would have understood this risk the moment the angel departed.

The Bible does not record Mary’s private tears, racing thoughts, or moments of fear—but Scripture’s silence does not imply their absence. Faith is not proven by the lack of struggle; it is proven by who we turn to in the midst of it.

Mary’s next recorded action is revealing. She goes quickly to Elizabeth, a woman who also carried a miraculous promise. There, Mary’s words flow not with panic, but with worship:

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
— Luke 1:46–47, ESV

This was not denial—it was reliance.
Mary anchored herself in what she knew to be true about God.

Her song reflects a deep familiarity with God’s past faithfulness:

He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers.
— Luke 1:54–55, ESV

Mary understood something vital: the God who had been faithful before would be faithful again. She could not see the outcome, but she knew the character of the One who held it.

This Christmas season has been emotionally challenging for our family. Like Mary, we are experiencing a future redirected in ways we did not expect. Plans have shifted. Certainty has been replaced with questions. The path ahead feels unfamiliar, and at times unseen.

There are moments when the unknown becomes loud—when fear competes for our attention and our hearts grow weary from trying to anticipate what lies ahead. Like Mary, we are learning again what it means to trust God where we cannot see.

Faith, in these moments, becomes a daily decision.

When uncertainty threatens peace, God’s Word becomes an anchor. These are Scriptures I return to—verses to memorize, repeat, and cling to when the future feels unclear:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
— Proverbs 3:5–6, ESV

You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you.
— Isaiah 26:3, ESV

Cast all your anxieties on him,
because he cares for you.
— 1 Peter 5:7, ESV

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord…
plans for welfare and not for evil,
to give you a future and a hope.
— Jeremiah 29:11, ESV

Mary did not know how the story would unfold—but she trusted the Author. This Christmas, as we wait in the tension between promise and fulfillment, we are learning to do the same.