I have a niece whose 6 year old daughter is in the midst of her second bout with leukemia; her second long, long period of chemotherapy and all it brings. It’s tough to watch for anyone who knows and loves this family. But nothing we experience could possibly compare to the pain this mommy deals with every day as she watches her child suffer. I marvel at how my niece holds up under the circumstances but I don’t doubt that there are moments when bitter tears flow from the river of hurt and horror within her mother’s heart.
A mother feels every bit of her child’s pain, be it emotional or physical. Ridicule my child and I want to punch your lights out. Injure my child and I want to inflict long lasting damage in retaliation. Break my child’s heart and forever you are on my ‘scum of the earth’ list.
There are just some things a mother’s heart should not have to bear. The mother of Jesus would agree with me I’m sure. When I think of all she had to cope with – from the minute she stepped out at a wedding and voiced her great pride and confidence in her son, to the times of holding her head up while the rumors, whispers and snickers came from friends and family alike, to the horror of the day she watched her Son die in the most cruel manner ever devised, I don’t know how her heart survived. As women we grieve deeply, carry sadness in our secret places, and weep silently over the things this world throws at us and at those we love.
Good Friday, the day Christ laid down his life for the very ones who carried out his death sentence, was not a good day for Mary. She must have died a thousand deaths to His one. She must have wondered how her dead feet could continue to walk; how her dead heart could continue to beat; how her dead body could continue to have blood flowing through it.
But Easter Sunday – I tell you not one person celebrating the glory of a Risen Lord comes close to experiencing the explosion of joy, the fullness of hope, the leap of new life nor the instantaneous heart healing which took place in Mary’s life that morning.
Oh yes, as mothers we injure easily and wound deeply. We bleed through our eyes, shedding an ocean of salty tears beginning the moment our child takes his or her first breath. Praise God that in our calling as mothers we also experience the times of ecstasy bigger and better than anyone else ever could. It’s why we survive and thrive in our role.
Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. Psalm 126:5 (NLV)
