Mary, the mother of Jesus

I wonder what it was like for Mary – spoken to by angels, “highly favoured” by God, but also a mother, with all the hormones, happiness and heartaches shared by so many women.

One who knew what it was to lose a child, in tragic circumstances, whose hopes and dreams for her son ended so abruptly on a hill outside the city. Or did they? The last time the Bible mentions Mary is in the book of Acts. Easter is over, Jesus returns to his Father – “wait” he tells his followers….

Acts 1:13-14

¹³ When they had entered (Jerusalem), they went to the room upstairs where they were staying, Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. ¹⁴ All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

Mary Remembers

What a night that was

What a journey it had been

Bone weary

The birth imminent

despairing

that we’d find somewhere,

anywhere

to stay.

My first baby born in a stable!

At least it was warm

And Joseph was wonderful

Now -

My back aches

And my memory’s not what it was

but who could forget that night?

Shepherds

Heralded by a blast of cold night air

strident, discordant voices

recalling a harmony of angels

a fanfare for a Messiah

silenced

beyond words

by the sight of the baby in my arms

And I will always remember

A night spent

Not sleeping

But drinking in

The sweetness of his small face

His tiny hands

Noting every intake of breath

Every move

Knowing I would give my life

To keep him safe

There’s another time

I watch the face of my beloved son

not safe in my arms

but high on a cross

his sweet face etched with suffering

his hands punctured by nails

noting every laboured breath

every twitch of pain

knowing I could do nothing to save him

And I remembered Gabriel’s words:

   His name will be Jesus

   the son of the most high God

   he will reign

   and his kingdom will never end

How will this be?

The naïve young girl had dared to ask then

How will this be?

I raged in silence now

Gabriel’s words

echoed down the years:

With God nothing is impossible

   Wait…

as I watch my son suffer

and a sword pierces my heart

   wait…

as life drains from me

leaving me numb, crushed

   wait…

as I watch my son die

and the world ends.

There were angels again

the morning we -

the living dead,

go to the tomb

and find it empty,

that the impossible has happened

new life is his

and we too breathe once more

What a night that was

when the angels sang

and hardened shepherds

knelt and smiled

at a baby!

What a morning that was

when heaven rejoiced

and grown men and women cried

to find that Jesus lives!

My beautiful baby boy,

My Lord and Saviour!