Mary, Jesus’ Mother
It hurts to breathe. Why does life go on around me as if the world has not seized and shifted? Do they not know? Have they not heard? My Son is dead. My Son is dead. Those words feel foreign and wrong on my lips. How can they be true?
I ache all over yet feel numb. Nothing makes sense, everything falls into place. I am not surprised at the turn of events but deeply and wholly shocked. The crush of pain pins me to the ground, but my hands and feet still serve those around me.
From the beginning, I knew there could be no easy end. Is it significant that His birth and now His death are steeped in shame? All the moments I didn’t understand, all the things I could never tell…and it came to this? I feel shaken, as if someone picked me up by the shoulders and is shaking me until I am empty of all I thought I knew.
I never got to say goodbye. There were no private moments in which I could say I loved Him. That He had honored me and regarded me like no other when He chose me to be His mother. I didn’t get to say that even though I don’t understand, I understand. I didn’t get to hold Him close one more time. I didn’t get to fight for a different end than a cross. I didn’t get to even react when I first saw Him hanging on the cross. It was like someone hit me in the end with a stone and kicked the back of my knees. For a few minutes, I thought I would faint. Our goodbye was no good goodbye.
John told me what He said in the garden about praying so they wouldn’t give in to temptation. What temptation? What temptation?
Why go to all the trouble to make a young girl pregnant, do all those miracles and pour into the lives of His friends? His whole life He has pointed to His heavenly Father (who I am sure exists). More has always been at work than what we could see. Perhaps that is the temptation He spoke of –believing that what is happening is final and all there is. That is a great temptation. The other is to think that I’m crazy. But in my heart, I know neither is true.
What then? I don’t know. My mind clouds with confusion. My heart pulses with pain. My body still aches. But my eyes and ears? They are waiting…to see what He will do next.
ACTION: What are you grieving right now? When life changes adversely we are tempted to say, “Oh, it’s not that bad. I can handle it. No big deal. I’ll get through it.” It’s a three-fold temptation– to dismiss it, give in to futility, or think you’re crazy because you feel it. What does grief look like on you? How do you wait, body scared and aching, but eyes and ears alert to what God might be doing next?
