mary mother of Jesus

Part1    Part 2


 Simeon’s words – “A piercing of the heart”—indeed, tonight my heart is not only pierced; it is ripped apart! I was at the foot of the cross! I watched him die! Die! This son of God, the miracle worker!

Skeptics mocked him by telling him to come down from the cross. Why did he not? He proved his power over death by his love for another grieving widow whose son died. Why did he leave me grieving? He did think of me. Asked John to take his place as my son. Even near the end, he encouraged a thief hanging next to him.

At last he said “It is finished.” Finished! The Messiah, dead. The Savior, dead. The healer, dead. The miracle worker, dead. The king, dead. My son, dead. However, death seemed welcome compared to the betraying, whipping, scorning, ridiculing, humiliating, bleeding, suffering!

They contemptuously jabbed a mocking crown of thorns on the brow that I had stroked in love. The brow that wrinkled when he laughed. The brow that sweat at the end of a long hard day. The brow that oozed blood into his eyes as it made its way down his cheeks.

Why did the glorious shouts of hallelujah, change to threatening screams of crucify him? Why, God, why? Why did you leave him to suffer alone? Why would your promise turn to this? What an ignominious end to your glorious promise!

His tired eyes looked in love as he asked John to care for me.    He cared.  He loved.  He made provision.  So I have bread to eat…as my heart still cries out, “Why?”


About oneta hayes

ABOUT ME Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
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8 Responses to MARY’S SOLILOQUY (3 OF 4)

  1. dawnlizjones says:

    I can’t even imagine how her mother’s heart felt…. I want to see how you finish this piece!

  2. Faye says:

    Your telling of the story reminds me of the haunting song ‘Mary did you know?’. How much did she know? How much not written suffering did she experience. When she said at the wedding feast ‘Whatever He tells you to it.’ indicates that she had some knowledge of His Calling but…did she KNOW?. Appreciate the way you are writing this Soliloquy. Looking forward to rest,

  3. Dawn Marie says:

    “So I have bread to eat…” Hauntingly true. I wonder if she could have herself understood the magnitude of the ever-lasting bread his body became for all of us? ““I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst.”

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