I have read and heard the story numerous times. We all have at least once in our life. Mary, the mother of Jesus, the mother of God in human form, went through more than most of us will in a lifetime.
Mary, did you know?
Did you know that the little boy who looked up at you in wonder would one day be killed in such a brutal way by his peers?
Did you know that you would witness it?
As a mother of a precious little boy myself, I cannot even begin to fathom Mary’s role in history.
I do not even want my son to date. I am afraid for him to go to school. Maybe not to those extremes, but I am so protective of his sweet self. I find him hilarious, more so than any child I have ever known. I find him sweet and caring, and more intelligent than some adults I know. I also think he is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, even when his nose is pouring green snot and he is projectile vomiting on me sick with the stomach flu. That is how mama’s see their babies.
I also cannot imagine knowing that as I raise him, as I watch him grow and accomplish little things every day, that he would be put to death, and I would have to watch. Of course my Liam is nowhere near Jesus, but as a mother, my heart breaks for Mary. As a woman, it always has.
Even though he was/is God, he was/is her baby. Her son died for her. For the entire world. For history, the present, and the future.
Maybe Mary knew, but really had no idea because she could not understand it. I think mama’s have that problem today, too. We know our beautiful babies will grow up and do things we could never imagine, both good and bad in our cases, but we still do not think about it.
After all, no matter what, they are our babies.
And for my “Grumpy Cat” followers:
