I waited for tomorrow-a tomorrow that lasted 18 years!

Jesus was a favored lad, a brilliant and talented man. Still he would do nothing about his special-Godness. He just responded to my urging by saying, “It’s not my time.” Finally when I spurred him on that day at Cana, he followed through! Turned water into wine! It was nothing short of a miracle!

Oh, how I rejoiced, what pride I felt. I remembered how the angel said I was highly favored, giving birth to God’s son.—- But I also remembered Simeon’s words. He said “a sword will pierce your own soul.” Some days I glory in Jesus’ successes, his little group of followers has grown to be masses. Some days I cry in fear for his lack of fear. My heart reaches heights of pride when I hear how people love him, then it drops like stone when I hear how much his enemies hate him.

I heard that he overthrew the tables in the temple and drove out the merchants! He even takes authority over devils—and death. If he has any fear, it is wiped out by his compassion. He is always doing good, loving the children, eating with sinners, healing the sick, feeding the hungry, even touching the lepers and making them clean!

But I am lonely for him. He seldom comes home. I went to see him and he seemed to say that he has no more time for me than for other mothers! My son, the miracle worker! ’Tis no wonder they want to make him king. Who better to be a king? God’s son, and my son! Surely he will be safe, he is the promised Messiah.


image: pexels, Luis Dalvan

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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3 Responses to MARY’S SOLILOQUY (#2 of 4)

  1. It is painful to just attempt to imagine the burden, she as a mother, bore— and her heart would be pierced…

  2. Beautiful. I find it challenging to imagine myself as Mary because of the amount of intense pain she must have suffered. Not many of us could take that on.

  3. Frank Hubeny says:

    I like how fear is wiped out by comparison. I wonder how she felt as well: “I went to see him and he seemed to say that he has no more time for me than for other mothers!”

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