A Good Friday Reflection by Jesus’ Mother Mary

Nothing Could Have Prepared Me For That Day

I will never forget that night when I received word:

“Mary! They have taken your son away

to try him before the chief priests and temple officials,”

Nothing could have prepared me for that day.

I helped Jesus take his very first step,

he walked on the Sea of Galilee;

I danced with joy when he uttered his first word,

but it was he who made the mute man speak.

He is the Lord’s Messiah,

as the angel and the prophets foretold;

I always treasured their words in my heart

which today, with fear, grows cold.

Signs and wonders followed my son,

He was filled with God’s spirit and power;

Yet, a foreboding I sensed deep within,

Was this that very hour?

The hour when my soul would be pierced

with too great a sword?

Apprehension seized my mind,

I remembered the prophet, Simeon’s, word.

We were in Jerusalem for the Passover,

the feast of the unleavened bread,

I felt my knees give way as I trembled,

with anticipation and dread;

What would they do with Jesus?

What were they plotting now?

The officials had planned his murder in times past,

but he escaped every time, somehow.

His disciples had brought word to me-

“He has allowed himself to be willingly bound,”

Could this be the plan of God, his Father?

In this mother’s heart, no peace could be found.

I heard they were taking him before Pilate,

What charge were they plotting to bring?

They were envious of my son,

for the masses had hailed him as their king.

They produced many false witnesses,

with whom, even Pilate could not reason;

“This rebel opposes Caesar, they cried,

charge him with blasphemy and treason!”

Under pressure from chief priests and elders,

Pilate ordered his crucifixion;

My heart ripped into a million pieces

at the announcement of this conviction.

They beat him most violently, spat and mocked,

to Mount Calvary, outside the city, they led him away,

half dead and unable to bear his cross,

Nothing could have prepared me for that day.

We followed him at a distance-

The other Mary, John and I;

My heart grew faint with each passing moment,

my son was going to suffer and die.

“O God of our Fathers give me strength,” I prayed,

“To be by Jesus’ side,

this burden is too great to bear,

let your strength, in me, abide.”

The nails that pierce his hands, his feet,

the crown of thorns on his brow,

I cannot bear to look upon his cross, O God,

pray transfer his agony to me, somehow.”

Even in his hour of testing,

he looked with deep affection into my eyes;

pointing to John he said, “from now on this is your son,”

then he gave up his spirit and died.

My tears, which flowed ceaselessly,

dried up as my spirit grew numb;

I went with others, to where they laid him,

in the garden, in Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb.

The following day being the Sabbath,

I could not perform his burial rites, that day;

On the morning after, when I rushed to his tomb,

the stone to the entrance had been rolled away.

His body was missing, I saw angels,

“He is risen from the dead!” they declared,

My disbelief gave way to joy,

nothing could have prepared me for that day.

Luke 23; Mathew 27, Mark 15, John 18

Copyright (c) 2015, Pooja Chilukuri, Once There Was Jesus- The Greatest Stories Retold.

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