Mary Was a Momনমুনা

My husband and I, along with our many kiddos, climbed into the car to head home from church. A little before we completed the three mile trip, one of them asks, “Hey, where is the baby?” Yes. We had left our baby, Katie, sleeping soundly in the church nursery. Quickly, we turned around to go back after her, feeling like lousy, irresponsible parents. From then on, my husband did a head count each time before we drove away.

Mary and Joseph also lost Jesus when He was twelve. To commemorate the yearly observance of Passover at the Temple in Jerusalem, the family most likely traveled with a large group of people from Nazareth. This walking route is about 120 miles, taking several days. After the festivities, when they started for home, it took them two days to discover Jesus wasn’t with His friends or with other families. I’m sure they were frantic as they turned around to look for Him. I'm sure they questioned every person they saw, giving his description, hoping for good news. Three days later they find Him! He is sitting with the Temple leaders asking questions, oblivious to His parents’ concerns.

“Son,” his mother says to Him, “why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been frantic, searching for you everywhere.”

It's a question we all ask, “Why have you done this to me?” We react by deflecting blame onto others, not wanting to carry the guilt of our own weaknesses.

Jesus responds to Mary, “Don’t you know I’m about my Father’s business?” Scripture tells us Mary stores this question in her heart—she ponders and treasures again.

She will need these thoughts and memories later, because there is another time Mary loses Jesus.

She is with Him as He is carrying a heavy wooden cross up a hill. This time He isn’t deflecting, or asking her questions. This Son, who has no guilt, is carrying the blame and guilt of the world on His bent shoulders. His mother stands by in grief, watching through tears as her firstborn willingly gives Himself for her, for me, for you as He is nailed to that cross. And as He hangs His head and dies, I’m sure Mary believes her heart will break. She has lost Him again. He is gone. It is finished.

But we know this isn’t the end! Once again, after He'd been lost to her for three days the news rings out, “He is not here; he has risen, just as he said.” Imagine the joy, the amazement, the reminders of all she has treasured in her heart when she hears that He is not gone. All the years she watched her Son who was fully human and fully Divine struggle with sin, yet never give in. He always choose love, joy, peace, patience--all the difficult, right decisions for righteousness. Deep inside she remembered, she knew.

Like Mary, we can know, trust, and believe that the course we have set for our children will end with victory! He holds them, He loves them, and He makes a way even when there seems to be no way. He is faithful!

Jesus is risen! Do you believe it? Are you living from it?

Oh Father, thank You for finding me while I was lost. Thank You for willingly giving up Yourself for me. May I willingly give You my heart—all of it—in exchange for Your life which You so freely offer for mine. What a glorious exchange!

May His joy rise in your heart during this season and always as you place your heart, your life, and your children into His loving, wise, nail-scarred hands. You, or they, are not lost, but found!

Connect with Robin on Instagram @manymeadows

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