Dear Mary,

The days are long as I walk around with this precious human growing inside of me. Can you believe it? Me in my old age being gifted with a child?! I still remember the day when Zechariah came home and wasn’t able to speak. Not because he didn’t want to, but because the angel of the Lord that expressed the glorious message of my bearing precious John was so hard for your cousin Zechariah to really accept. Can you blame him?

I mean look at me. I am well-advanced in years, as you know. The questions still run rampant across the forefront of my mind. “Why me?” “Isn’t there one worthier than I?” This is why I pulled away and remained hidden for five months. I was able to refocus and worship God for the gift that rested safely in my belly. To cherish the moments of feeling John kick my abdomen. The Lord took away the reproach of my name of not being able to bear a child by blessing me with John.

I couldn’t not give the Lord glory due his name after such a miracle. 

It wasn’t long after my time with the Lord that you, yourself were visited by an angel. The day you walked into our house and greeted me the baby leaped in my belly. The Holy Spirit filled me and I couldn’t hold in the knowledge I now possessed. You are blessed among women, my dear cousin, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! I don’t understand why I was granted the privilege to have you, the mother of my Lord, to come to me. All I know is that John leaped with joy at the sound of your feet hitting the doorway. You are blessed to believe that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to you from the Lord.

My dear Mary, thank you for staying with me for three months. I pray your return was safe and that your travels were comfortable as you carry our Savior. Remember that our God has fulfilled His promise of our long-awaited Savior by choosing you to bring the greatest gift into the world that would abolish sin forever.

A little while after you left, John came. Our neighbors and relatives heard that our Lord has shown great mercy to me and they rejoiced with Zechariah and I. He was circumcised on the eighth day, as we have been commanded to do. You know that Zechariah until this point was still unable to speak. The custom is to name one’s child after one of your relatives, however; this was not the case for beautiful baby John. The crowd was perplexed because none of our relatives bore the name John. Zechariah took his tablet and wrote out that his name was to be called John. With the last stroke of his pen forming the “n”, his tongue loosened and he was able to speak. Our neighbors full of fear  watched as Zechariah blessed the Lord over and over again.

Mary, in that moment time stopped. Baby John was here. I felt the natural instinct that I am sure all mothers feel when their child rests in their arms– love. As you prepare in these final months, my encouragement to you is to soak in the blessing and honor of the child you carry. As soon as he enters your arms, you will want to fiercely protect and lovingly cherish your son.

My prayer for you and Joseph is to remember God’s promise. His promise to always be with you. You will fail as a mother. You will also do well as a mother. And you may not ever fully understand why God has chosen you and Joseph to bring the Savior into this world. But He has. Treasure these things in your heart. God is doing great things through you, precious one. Your story will be one that carries on throughout generations. Remain faithful to the One who holds you in His arms. Do not be afraid. Trust.

With all of my love,

Elizabeth

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“Give Thanks To”

I went on a quest. A quest to uncover the deeper meaning of “giving thanks”.

I thought I understood what “giving thanks” meant. It is a tradition tied to Thanksgiving, yet is a horribly underrated discipline during the rest of the year.

This Thanksgiving panned out to be quite chaotic. I got married the week before Thanksgiving, give or take a few days. It was a GREAT idea. The time leading up to the wedding was stressful which was predicted by many veterans. In the middle of the pandemonium, however; I found relief in the words that were penned to give life, offer hope and peace. God’s word.



This particular season of waiting turned out to be the hardest I have encountered thus far. A distinct pressure to appear calm, to go with the status quo, and to be put together replaced the beauty of being broken and not relying on that which is steadfast and whole.

A few days before the wedding I decided that in order to remain somewhat sane I needed to write. I needed to release the nervous energy that ignited the tingling of pins and needles to settle in my fingers.

I sought the one who knows my heart better than anyone else.

Psalm 34:4 “I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.”

I scribbled on my piece of paper hoping that the words made sense, yet with every curve of the pen I felt that they were feeble attempts at scratching the surface of how truly I felt. 

I wrote:

Dear God,


We are four days out. You are a good and glorious God that speaks to me. What do you require of me concerning your Word? You made me. You know me. You understand the distinct snort resting in my ever-present fits of laughter. You know my biggest fears. They threaten to control me, to give me a reason to be afraid, to sky-rocket the need to grapple for control. My understanding of grace is still that of a little child’s.  You are not deterred by my lack of faith. In your Word you have laid out evidences of your faithfulness. What you say and what you do is a reflection of your character.

As I transition from one season of life to another, I want to know that I will choose you. That I will seek to glorify and serve you first before my husband and not the neglect the duties as a friend, sister, daughter, niece, and now a wife.


It was a timely prayer. Because in order to choose Him first before anyone else, in order to serve and love my husband, family, and friends I must give thanks to the giver of Life, the Creator of the Universe, the Hope Eternal, the Lover of my soul.

To give thanks is to remember. 

Deuteronomy 8:18 “You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth, that he may confirm his covenant that he swore to your fathers, as it is this day.”

To remember God.

To remember the warmth of the sun’s rays on your arms. To remember His generosity as He provides money for a need that you hadn’t expected. To remember His sovereignty as He reigns supreme above our new leaders. To remember that every good and perfect gift is from the Father above. To remember that His promises, His words prove true every time. To remember that in times of questioning He is still listening. To remember that I was given a best friend to walk alongside and encourage through this life. To remember that He promises to always love steadfastly.  To remember that health, wealth, family, friends are his GIFT to us and no matter how any of those things are used, He will be glorified.

Thanksgiving is not the only time to remember. To give thanks only in this season is to undermine the necessity to always be in constant remembrance of the goodness and grace of our Lord.



What I want to remember is God’s gift, His Son, that through living on earth as fully God and man was able by His death to pardon what I could never reconcile. My relationship with God himself.

That is the reason that I am able to give thanks in all circumstances,weordzrgmt8-mathias-reed in all seasons of life, in every day gifts. He is the one we give thanks to because He is the giver of all things all the time.

The quest is still ongoing. Giving thanks to God is never over. The meaning of it ever-deepens as I continue to practice the discipline.

Psalm 8:9 “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth.”

Remember it. Live it.

Happy Tuesday!