To be called blessed. To be known as the mother of Jesus. Highly favored was the angels words that one night. As she stood,leaning heavily against John, she questioned these words. "How could I even come close to thinking this moment right here is highly favored. How can I be blessed as I watch my son dying a slow, agonizing death on the cross. The years of happiness, but also of many swords piercing my heart. My child, my own, yet not mine. There was joy yet terrible pain too, to being the mother of the Messiah. There was no favoring, the rumors muttered around me as I carried Him in my womb. I thought I would be honored, yet the women were spiteful and cruel. People turned their backs on me..I almost lost Joseph too. Blessed be the angel that came to talk to him, that he stayed with me. It didn't get easier, those long days on a donkey or the night of labor in a musty old stall. Then we heard of King Herod planning to kill all the little baby boys..terror struck my heart. Such evil, this world we live in. As time passed, as Jesus grew, He became more and more distant. Less my child but more Gods child. The hardest part as a mother, was the letting go. Letting God have His Child back.
My Father, nothing could have prepared me for this day. Why? Why such evil? What did He do to deserve this? His eyes looked down at me, my dry heaves drawing His attention. I had no more tears left, only bitter cries for my son..my son on the cross. His only concern was me..not Him. He asked John to watch over me as his own. That's the kind of Son He was. Never concerned for Himself but others. As He was laid to rest, I wondered what was there now to live for? I had lost everything. He was my all. I felt empty and void of life. No more will to breathe. Then I heard rumors. Was it true? Had He risen? Oh the sheer glory of knowing my Son was alive!! He had risen! It was true, some day He would be King!!!"
Never fear about tomorrow. The burdens and pain we go through each day, like Mary, is an honor. There will always be pain and suffering in this world. Always be cries of sadness. Death all around. Even Mary, the blessed mother, tasted this. The ridicule, the poverty, slander, death..there will always be this until the day Jesus comes again to bring us home. This is the job He has given each of us to carry through with. My daughter looked at me last night and said she wanted to be just like me when she grew up. To write about Jesus. "I won't care what others say about me,mommy, I want to share Jesus' love just like you."
Great is these words to me. I will hold them close and pray hard for my child. For being a servant of the Lord will be hard. Just like Mary..and each mother and daughter..son and Father..any child of God..we will suffer until the day He comes. Think of it as an honor and glorify Him in each trial and tribulation. For Mary did..she didn't give up. She endured so much..look to her when times get hard. Remember what she faced. Until then..we have work to do..and a great promise to remember.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.
You will always have the poor to care for, but I'll be with you only a few more days."