Behold your Mother!

Mary you must be exhausted. This Friday has been one of the most emotionally draining days ever!
Yes it has.
Has there ever been a day like this?

Not that I can ever remember. When He was born I was exhausted- but it was a good exhaustion. But this?!!... And John bless his heart is so solicitous. He is watching me with worried eyes. "Ima (ee-ma translated from Hebrew it means Mother) please eat something and try to lie down."

That was so like my son to instruct some one he knew he could trust to take care of me... "Mother Behold your son! John- Behold your Mother!" Jesus always took His duties as a first born son so seriously. But he told me more than once, it was never a burden, but a delight and a privileage for him to care for me! Even from the cross, he was still discharging the responsibility of my care to John...Indeed John has been around so much he feels like my own. And now he watches me as a son worried over his mother's health and well-being.

I've cried myself numb. My breathing is like quiet shudders, such as a baby does when it has wailed until it is too tired and weak to cry any more. So it just snuffles and shudders. Like I am doing right now.

I never wanted this day to come. You know life is going to be very unusual and different when an Angel announces a pregnancy! But nothing could have prepared me for this day. Simeon's words come back to haunt me,
"Behold this child is set for the fall and for the resurrection of many in Israel and for a sign which shall be contradicted. And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that, out of many hearts thoughts may be revealed."

"Come Mother, you must try to rest." I nod blankly, thinking how deathly quiet it is. "I wonder, is HE resting?" I whisper, as a tear slides down from my swollen eyes. I think of his body, beaten beyond imagination, bruised and mangled, laying on the cold hard stone inside Joseph of Arimathaea's tomb. I'm grateful that Joseph came to get his body, for I don't know if Pilate would have given it to us otherwise...Had I thought, we could have laid him beside my own dear Joseph...God rest his soul.

I remember how patiently he had worked with Jesus, teaching him the carpentry trade that he himself loved so well! I will never forget the time Jesus smashed his thumb with the hammer. He must have been 10 or 12 years old. (Hmm, was it before or after the time we lost him during passover and found him days later in the temple, disputing like one of the sages themselves? The years all run together in a blur- they went by oh too fast!) Anyway, his thumb was bleeding and he had cried out when he hit it, but when I came to tend him, he looked at me and said, "It's okay Imi (my mother) the pain will only last a little while, but the thing of beauty I am creating will last forever." The way he said it, and the look in his eyes... like he was older than time itself...caused me to stop and shiver although I could not grasp why. Later Joseph said, "you know Mary, it was the darndest thing. I could almost swear ( if I were a man to make oaths) that he hit his thumb on purpose, as if to see if he could bear the pain! What do you make of that?" Of course, I didn't know WHAT to make of it, so I just hid it away with all the other things I'd tucked into my heart about this precious gift and son of mine.

But what now? After so many miracles? After the rising hopes of so many of us, that He really was Messiah... After all the Angel said he would save His people from their sin. His cousin John announced him as the lamb who takes away the sin of the world. The world! Can you imagine?!! But the only way I know lambs to take away sin, is to die so their blood can cover our sins for the coming year. And now my own little lamb has died at the hands of cruel and merciless men. For what? What did he do? What will we now do? It is more than I can fathom and I shake my head wearily, as if trying to clear it. Yes, maybe what I need is a good nights sleep. Maybe somehow, someway, things will look different in the light of a new day... I doubt it, but I can only hope that there is something I have missed, that he has told me that will come back to me, and I will understand it all by and by. I hope so. I truly hope so.

Thank you John for the blanket. I'll just close my eyes for a minute... I pray the horror of this day will fade from their view....