Lent, Suffering and The Tortures of Taking Sabbath

I've been reflecting on the parent stylings of Mary, Mother of our Lord and Savior, Jesus.

Reflecting on her experience at the foot of the cross.

Challenged by her ability to watch her son accused and tortured, staying silent, trusting Jesus to God.

And then, after all this is done. After Jesus is dead. Mary doesn't stay and watch over his body-like I would. She doesn't linger in her grief. She leaves Jesus' body to a religious leader,  whose name  happens to be Joseph, and goes home to get ready for the Sabbath.

Mary's relationship with her God is so strong and grounded that even the death of her son does not throw the rhythm of her faith. It doesn't takes precedent over her following the good and whole discipline of taking rest, as her God commanded her to.

Too often my kids become my little gods. Too often I put my love for them, my hopes for them, my passion for their happiness and success over my love, hope and passion for God and His kingdom. Too often I bow to the demons of materialism, selfish ambition, and pride in order to give them the life they ask for or that I am convinced they need. And I have to be honest that I would struggle with the Lord if one of my kids got sick or worse. My relationship with Him would become much more "complicated."

But as a mommy of little ones I wonder how Mary pressed into God the Father while Jesus was young. I wonder about her life and her faith when Jesus is just born and shepherds come and tell about the angels. When she takes Him to the temple to be circumcised and Simeon tells her that Jesus will cause the thoughts of many hearts to be revealed and that a sword will pierce her soul. I wonder how she moves toward God when the wise men come and offer the gifts. When she and Joseph and Jesus are refugees in Egypt. When they lose Jesus, only to find Him at the temple. I wonder how she took each of these moments and cultivated a faith life that was not centered on her son, but was centered on her God.

I wonder about those things and I ask God to cultivate a Mary heart in me.

I pray that the Father, Son, Spirit God would be my one consuming passion, and that He would teach me now, in the littleness of my mommy life, to put my relationship with Him above my relationship with my kids. And that no matter what comes in their lives or in mine, that at the end of the day, the end of the week, the end of my life, I'll be able to leave my Cecilia, my Gareth and my little Audrey in the hands of their True Parent, and take my rest.