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Introduction

You ever hear a song that just stops you in your tracks—like it’s speaking straight to your soul? That’s “Mary, Did You Know?” for me. It’s one of those melodies that wraps around you like a warm blanket, but the words? Oh, they hit deep. Written by Mark Lowry back in 1984, it started as a poem he scribbled down for a Christmas play—can you imagine that? Just a guy with a pen, wrestling with this huge, beautiful question: Did Mary, holding her baby boy, have any idea who He’d grow up to be?

The music came later when Buddy Greene added this haunting, gorgeous melody in 1991, and suddenly, it wasn’t just a poem—it was a moment. Picture this: a mother cradling her newborn, the weight of the world in her arms, and she’s clueless about the miracles, the heartbreak, the everything that’s coming. That’s what gets me every time I hear it. It’s not preachy—it’s personal. It’s like the song’s asking you, “Hey, do you ever wonder what she felt?”

What makes it special, though? It’s the way it dances between quiet wonder and jaw-dropping awe. “Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?”—lines like that don’t just sit there; they sink in. And the voices that’ve sung it—Kathy Mattea first, then Pentatonix, Carrie Underwood, you name it—each one brings their own shiver-inducing spin. I mean, Pentatonix’s version? Those harmonies could melt ice. It’s a song that’s been covered a million times because it’s timeless—it’s Christmas, sure, but it’s also just… human.

I think about Mary sometimes, you know? Rocking Jesus to sleep, maybe humming her own little tune, no clue He’d one day calm storms or raise the dead. It’s wild to think how ordinary and extraordinary collide in that image. And that’s the magic here—it makes you feel small and huge all at once. Next time it comes on, listen close. Let it wash over you. Did she know? Maybe not. But now we do, and that’s a story worth singing about

Video

Lyrics

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy would some day walk on water?
Mary, did you know
That your baby boy would save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
That your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you delivered will soon deliver you
Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will calm the storm with His hand?
Did you know
That your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you’ve kissed the face of God
Oh Mary, did you know?
Oh Mary, did you know?
The blind will see, the deaf will hear
The dead will live again
The lame will leap
The dumb will speak the praises of the Lamb
Oh Mary, did you know
That your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary, did you know
That your baby boy would one day rule the nations?
Did you know
That your baby boy is heaven’s perfect Lamb?
The sleeping child you’re holding is the Great I Am
Ooh, Mary, did you know?

You Missed

“SOME LEGENDS ALMOST WALK AWAY BEFORE THEIR STORY BEGINS.” In the late 1970s, George Strait nearly quit music altogether. He had accepted a steady job designing cattle pens in Uvalde, weary of chasing a dream that seemed to slip further away. Norma quickly noticed the change. “I didn’t want to live with him like that,” she recalled. Her encouragement gave George one last push — a promise to try for just one more year. That decision changed everything. With help from his friend Erv Woolsey, George traveled back to Nashville, only to hear again that his voice was “too country.” Rejected but not broken, he and Erv convinced MCA executives to hear the Ace In The Hole Band live in a Texas honky-tonk. This time, the spark caught. George was offered a single: a heartbroken drinking song called “Unwound.” Released in May 1981, just days before his 29th birthday, the track climbed to No. 6. George remembered hearing it on the radio while still working as a ranch foreman — shocked to recognize his own voice climbing the charts. That success led to his debut album, Strait Country, and soon after, his first No. 1 with “Fool Hearted Memory.” But Nashville wanted to mold him. They told him to lose the hat, soften the sound, lean into pop polish. George resisted. “They were trying to make me into something else, but I was too hardheaded,” he later said. By the time his fourth album was underway, he had the confidence to push back. With hits on the charts and awards in hand, George Strait claimed control of his music — and in doing so, set the course for a career that would honor tradition while rewriting history.