If I was Mary’s Mother, I would’ve said “No”: A Reflection on the Visitation
The Visitation is such a beautiful moment in Mary’s life—and in the life of the Church. But I woke up this morning with a lot of questions about it, which, naturally, sent me down a hypomanic rabbit hole of research.
I couldn’t stop wondering:
How far away was Elizabeth?
Did Mary travel alone?
How far along was Mary?
How old was Mary again?
Did her parents know she was pregnant?
What about Joseph—did he know? And what did he think about her leaving for that long?
So here’s what I found:
Elizabeth lived roughly 80–100 miles away. That’s not exactly next door.
Based on cultural norms of the time, Mary almost certainly didn’t travel alone. She likely joined a caravan or traveled with family.
She was newly pregnant—probably just days or weeks after the Annunciation.
Mary was between 13 and 16 years old, which was typical for betrothal at the time.
As for her parents—Scripture doesn’t say whether Joachim and Anne knew she was pregnant.
So this is crazy. The Angel Gabriel appears and says, “Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son…” (Luke 1:31), and then mentions Elizabeth’s miraculous pregnancy. Mary doesn’t wait. She doesn’t pause. Somehow, in the middle of processing the biggest announcement of her life, she wastes no time before all the pieces come together—for her to pack, find a caravan, and probably spend 3–5 nights in the wilderness… all while newly pregnant, at 13.
Now, I know this is somehow not crazy—but my brain can’t help doing mental gymnastics trying to make sense of it. I keep imagining myself in Joachim and Anne’s position, and honestly… there is no way I’m letting my 13-year-old daughter make that trip. I’d send my “b’sha’ah tovah!” and call it a day.
But we know that’s not what happened. And it’s beyond me.
It’s a good thing the decision wasn’t mine—because I probably would’ve gotten in the way. And God, in His mercy, would’ve had to do His own gymnastics around me to give the world the greatest model of faithfulness that has or will ever exist.
Mary had to go—to see the fulfillment of God’s promise: Elizabeth, old and barren, with child. Mary couldn’t stand back while such magnificence was being bestowed upon the world in the quiet corner of Elizabeth’s home.
She had to go in order for her fiat to become her Magnificat.
I pray I can be more open to His magnificence—that I can be as free as Mary, to move where He is calling me. To trust that there are no obstacles to where He is. And that there, my heart can also proclaim: “My soul magnifies the Lord.”
