Complicated Hope

He turned 21 last week.

It was an emotional day – pride, joy . . . relief!

I wanted to write about him that day, to celebrate him.  Instead, I kept quiet.

I chose to remember his life and cherish those mental images alone.

And in doing so, I understood Jesus’ mother a little more.

“Mary treasured all these things in her heart and thought of them often,”                                                       Luke 2:19.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, knew what it was to hear the unthinkable, believe the improbable  and to see the impossible become reality.  She must have rocked him to sleep and stared at that tiny face in disbelief that this miracle was breathing in her arms. As she nursed the child, surely she wondered at her ability to provide for the physical needs of the King.   When he slept, I imagine this young mother starring at his tiny fluttering eyelids, muttering, “this child grew in me!”

His miracles.  His laughter.  His smile.  His teachings.

His beating.  His last words.  His death.

— all of these things were treasured in her heart.  She thought about them.  The miracle of conception.  The wonder of childbirth.  The exhaustion of being a mom of a toddler.  The joy of watching him come to age.  The heartbreak of seeing him rejected.

As a mother, I imagine she knew the heart of Jesus better than anyone except His heavenly father.  I imagine she grieved over the hearing – because her son grieved.  She rejoiced as limbs were restored – her son rejoiced too.

When he was taken into the wilderness by the enemy, I believe Mary herself fasted and prayed for her son’s protection and strength.

Mothering never stops – it changes.  It evolves.  It moves from the physical to the mental to the spiritual.

It becomes more difficult.

I’ve often smiled at poor, tired newborn moms and whispered, “this is the easy part.”  The hard part comes when you the Holy Spirit awakens you to pray for them for their soul the prize of a spiritual battle unseen by human eyes.

Yet, the joy is greater too.  To see that your baby boy is truly a kind human.  Whose heart is for the broken.  Who would leave the air conditioner and comfort of summer at home to serve others in the amazon.  Who would protect his friends.

The joy of a son who walks into the kitchen and hugs you – just because.

I treasure these things.

Thank you, Chris, for making me a mom.  I thank God for choosing me to be your mom as well.  What a grand adventure you leave led me on!