Go in Haste with Chicken Pot Pie

"Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth." // Luke 1:39

She came in haste to drop off her relic of Saint Francis of Assisi so I could take it with me into the delivery room.

On our fourth day of being at the hospital, the discouragement began to consume me. With no sign of the baby coming on his own, that relic was a constant reminder that she was praying for me.

I was a couple days postpartum, and she came in haste to deliver some lactation cookies. She came again in haste when I was in the throes of postpartum depression. I really wanted her to leave me alone in my brokenness, but instead she delivered an entirely homemade chicken pot pie that was so good that I won’t have one that isn’t made from her recipe (neither will my husband for that matter).

She came in haste to feed us because she knew we would need to be comforted.

She came in haste when I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

She came in haste even though I tried to ignore her text messages, but she was so persistent that I couldn’t.

She came in haste even though she had just lost a baby who grew in her womb and passed away after birth.

Here she was serving me. I felt like such a coward. She didn’t allow her grief to harden her heart, and there I was with a baby in my arms, still reeling with depression because of the circumstances surrounding my son’s birth.

I was so ashamed of my body because I believed it had failed me. I didn’t want her to see me this vulnerable and wounded.

She came in haste to break through the grief that was penetrating my heart.

She came in haste, and I will never forget how she treated me as if I belonged to her.

Who has been Mary to you and has come to you in haste? Thank the Lord for her and be that for someone else today. Go in haste and treat her as if she belongs to you.

She came in haste. // Mytae Carrasco WallaceClick to tweet

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