Loving people with the heart of Christ in the heart of Wabash.

Philippians 2:3-5

Dear Mary

Where were you, Mary, when you found out your Son had been taken by the soldiers to stand trial? Did you find out as soon as the disciples ran out of the Garden? Did one of them come wake you up to let you know? Or were they too frightened by what was going on? Too afraid to be seen talking to you?

Were you there in the courtyard as others falsely accused Him? If so, how could you bear it? Did you try to shout out? Did they shush you? Or did their cries simply overpower your own? When Pilate asked which person the Jews wanted to release, did you scream “Jesus” as everyone else hollered for “Barabbas”? Was your voice hoarse afterward from shouting with everything that you had?

I don’t know if you were in the courtyard that night. I’m not sure if you saw Peter standing by the fire and then run off after the rooster crowed. I’m not sure if you walked alongside Jesus as He, beaten and weak, carried the cross up the hill. But at some point, you found out what was going on, what they were doing to your Son. And you just had to go and be there with Him. Because we see you there at the foot of the cross as Jesus is dying.

I’m glad you weren’t alone. I’m glad the other women stood with you. You showed such strength. I know a mama’s love couldn’t let you leave, but oh, how your heart must have been crushed. Did you think back to Simon’s words to you when you dedicated Jesus at the temple as a baby? “A sword will wound your own soul too,” he had said. If only he knew how your soul was wounded now…

You watched your Son die. You—watched—Him—die. Then three days of darkness. Silence. Grieving. Confusion. Heartache. What did those three days hold for you, dear Mary? What was it like at
your house?

You had just celebrated Passover the night before, remembering when God had freed the Israelites from their slavery in Egypt. Were you wondering why He wasn’t taking such miraculous measures now? This was your Son, but it was God’s Son, too. You knew that better than anyone. How could this have happened?

But, oh Mary, what was it like when you heard that Jesus was alive? I’d love to hear…

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