Mary must have been exhausted. She was carrying a miracle, yes, but she was also carrying an out of wedlock baby, on a long journey, to give birth in rudimentary settings, with no family around, and no idea what would happen next. Christmas Eve found me sleep deprived, anxious, and preparing for an evening ahead that would require more energy and happiness than I could muster. So I sat in a church pew on Christmas Eve and cried for Mary and how tired she must have been, for how unfair it was that she would never fully comprehend the awesome power that her sacrifice would bring to the world. I cried because that one little baby would make every single one of my mistakes ok. Maybe you are in the middle of your own exhaustion. Maybe you are carrying something wonderful and powerful, but right now it just feels like a burden. Stay strong, your burden may become a light for others. If you are still happily enjoying the extra time with kids, and the extended bed times, and the fami...