Mary knew this day would come, but she was still unprepared for it. How can one prepare for this insanity? The vacillating crowd followed him with cheers and applause one day, and the next cursed him with the defiant shouts of the damned.
She stood at the edge of the crowd in disbelief at the three torn bodies suspended between heaven and earth. This was senseless! Why did it happen? Surely, the other two deserved this. They were thieves after all; but Jesus, her Jesus, did nothing to merit this punishment.
In the darkness, Mary rested her exhausted form on her mat; her mind flew back over the six months since his murder. So much had changed. His followers were in hiding most of the time. They spoke boldly, preaching his message during the day, but at night, they hide among the new converts.
Jesus made many enemies while he lived here. In death, he had attracted more. The stories and the lies they concocted afterwards to justify his appearance to the multitudes was only the beginning.
A slight smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she thought of her little boy running across the marketplace to share his latest revelation. He was so young, and yet so wise. God revealed many secrets to this child he had entrusted into her care. Mary would gaze into the dark eyes that danced with such merriment as she softly touched his curls. His smile never changed. She could see the same smile the last time he visited her. He still looked like the little boy who was so eager to share God’s truths with her.
Mary’s mind rushed in so many directions while lying on her mat. Part of her struggled with inexpressible grief. Losing Jesus was the most difficult experience she ever had since losing her beloved Joseph. Another part of her rejoiced because she knew he could never be hurt again. Through his death, he had won his battle and the struggle for himself and those who would follow him.
The hardest part of all of this was accepting that he was no longer her son. He had become her Savior. He was no longer the little boy with curls. Nor was he the young man who came to her so often for guidance. He had fulfilled his Father’s plan for his life, and was even now sitting at his right hand.
Mary lay in the dark remembering her long battle. She thought of the day an angel told her she would bear God’s Son. He entrusted his plans into her care. She was so overwhelmed that God would want her for such responsibility and honor. She had loved Jesus, protected him, taught him, and guided him for most of her life. She reminded herself frequently that he was never actually hers. He belongs to humanity. He came with a purpose, and death was part of the plan.
Now she understood the price God paid when He placed Jesus into her womb. How it must have broken his heart to send him to such a hostile place. Their relationship had changed, too. He no longer belonged only to his Father. He now belonged to the world.