(On this eve of another celebration of Jesus life, I am drawn again to thoughts of Mary. Below are my own humble musings concerning Mary's experience on that painful Friday.)
Not what I expected. Again.
His arrival had been so simple. Three of us. Joseph, me, Yeshua. The shepherds had come. The sweetness of his breaths. God’s promises. The angels.
Ending here??!
The chaos of the moment overwhelmed. The shouting crowds. People shoving past me, screaming insults. Pockets of people laughing in derision.
“Who is this, who has gotten himself into trouble?”
My mind could not comprehend this. This mayhem.
As I stumbled along with the other women, tears pouring down my face, my mind was back in that first ethereal encounter.
The angel. “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you….Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”
“He will be great…”
“his kingdom will never end.”
Holy Abba, my eyes see 'ending' here. Our son carries his own cross! My heart is ripped in pieces for the child of my womb. His suffering. His blood. His agony.
He needs water. He needs help! Abba, do you see?!
Each nail, each cry pierced my soul. Oh that I could die too. Take me Father.
The women’s hands hold me up. We must struggle on. I watch the carnage hoping as only a mother can for the miracle!
You promised, my Abba! He will be great!
I do not understand.
They set the cross upright. He cannot breathe. I run toward him and am forced back. My agony permeates my joints and limbs.
My son!!!!
“Dear woman.”
His voice and eyes find me.
Precious eyes. Precious face.
“Dear woman, here is your son,”
His eyes find John. John crumbles but listens—“Here is your mother.”
John looks at me with the love and desperation we are all strangled by.
John nods.
No! My heart cries, NO!!
You. Yeshua. YOU ARE MY SON!!!!
DO NOT LEAVE ME HERE!!!!!
Simeon’s words crashed in on me then.
“This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”
“A sword will pierce your own soul too.”
I scream in agony.
“It is finished.”
There are no words to describe this. When your child departs the earth. My own soul crashed, shattered on the blood spattered earth. Spittle from the mouths of these murderers still wetting the ground around the wooden cross.
Events swirled around me. An earthquake. Darkness.
News from the temple that the curtain was torn in two. Burial.
We have no ground here.
A stranger to me. A prominent man. One of THEM buries my son.
John’s protective presence. Yeshua’s comfort, even here.
I am lifeless. Unable to move.
Unable to think.
Broken.
“It is finished” my son said.
Finished?
Almighty God. This is not what I expected.
(Luke 1:28-33;Luke 2:34;John 19:25-27;Luke 19:30)
