When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leapt for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.’ — Luke 1:41-45

I’ve been living in Alexandria, Virginia since August, completing a year of Anglican Studies at Virginia Theological Seminary. This East Coast season has been characterized by deeply good and profoundly challenging growth, and I recently arrived home for a few days, bursting with the expectation of being in the presence of my beloved community.

After disentangling myself from a lovely onslaught of hugs, I slipped in late to the 11:15 service and slid my way into the back pew.

Church was in full swing as the door adjacent to me opened. In stepped one of my dearest friends, a woman whose joys and suffering are like my own. I had not expected to see her, as I knew her weekend was chockfull of work obligations. I reached out my hand, and she grabbed it with surprise.

We gazed at each other, giddy with delight and eyes brimming with tears of gratitude, totally bowled over by the grace of this moment. We embraced, giggling like girls. I touched her cheek, verifying she was real. She was only able to stay through the sermon — Mike’s powerful words on women’s lament was made all the more meaningful by her presence — and we exchanged only a few words. Yet this brief moment, so charged with joy and shining with love, was a little glimpse of eternity that I will treasure in my heart forever.

I imagine Mary’s surprise visit to Elizabeth looking a lot like this:

Wide-eyed, mostly wordless and altogether wonderful;
full of hands on bellies and exclamations of “is this real?”;
bursting with tenderness.

This intimate exchange precedes Mary’s unabashed expression of praise in her Magnificat. She can sing so vulnerably, so wholeheartedly, because Elizabeth is Mary’s safe person, her trusted friend, her beloved confidant.

In a world that denies women the experience of safety, female friendships are often the safe space of loving trust in which to experience reciprocal tenderness, care and delight. Such relationships nourish the spirit and prepare the soul for its rebirth.

Love longs to be born within each of us. May we be the tender ones who delight in each other’s souls as we await what is to come.

Today’s Advent Meditation comes from Lauren Grubaugh — one of the seminarians All Saints is privileged to be sponsoring for ordination to the priesthood.