To Watch My Son Die

My son came home from school one day recently and told me that a little boy in his class was being mean to him.

I reacted how all mothers would react–I wanted to rush right back into that school and rip that mean little boy’s head off for hurting my baby.

Of course, I didn’t do it.

I’ve always understood the story of the Nativity, but I don’t think I ever really appreciated it until I became a mother.

Suddenly I can relate to Mary as she eagerly anticipated the birth of her first child. The nerves about becoming a mother. The uncertainty of raising a child. The difficulties they’d face financially. The worry over whether or not she’d be able to do it–raise a child according to the laws of God.

And add on top of that all the extras that she and Joseph faced–like raising the Son of God, and as a mother, I can relate to her fears and anxieties.

Mary must have been a strong woman. Granted, she was raising the only kid on earth who never sinned (can you imagine that?? He cleaned his room each time she asked with no arguing!!) 🙂  What a blessing to know that she was following the commandment of God–that she was the one chosen to bring God in man’s form to the world.

Mary must have been a strong woman.

She brought the son of God into the world.

She watched her son die.

Imagine it–watching your baby grow and develop into the son of God, the man that would change the world for all time.  Feel the love Mary felt for her child–the earthly bond between mother and son. The bond between mother and child.

Mary’s instinct must have been to protect him at all costs.

And yet, Mary had to stand by and watch her son as he was tormented, jeered, beaten, scoffed, bruised, and ultimately killed for the sins of all mankind.

I wanted to rip that other kid’s head off just for hurting my son’s feelings. Imagine what Mary wanted to do the day Jesus was crucified.

Imagine her pain. Imagine her torment as she watched all that occurred. Imagine knowing that she’d brought the son of God into the world–knowing that she was part of a bigger plan, yet unable to stop her son’s pain.

Imagine hearing the words, “Here is your mother,” as Jesus spoke them to John. Imagine knowing that even in death, her son was taking care of her.

Just thinking about it brings a pain to my heart so great, that I can’t think of Mary without thinking of my relationships with my own sons.

I know for certain that I could not stand by and watch them die. I would have been fighting, even if it was to beg God for mercy–to change the plan, to come up with something else, to sacrifice someone else’s son on behalf of the world.

But Mary didn’t do that. “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.” She responded to the angel who brought the news of her pregnancy. She accepted God’s plan for her, surrendering her life, and the life of her unborn child, completely to the Lord.

In this Christmas season, may we remember Mary’s dedication to serving the Lord, even when it meant enduring the ultimate sacrifice with a mother’s heart–the death of her precious son for the sins of all mankind.

How much of ourselves are we willing to commit to the Lord, no matter the cost?

Share with me: What part of the nativity story touches you the most and why?

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2 Comments

Filed under Parenting, The Christian Walk

2 responses to “To Watch My Son Die

  1. My husband preached an AMAZING sermon series this advent season about how God smashed in and changed everything about what the world was through the "Christmas Story." My husband took all the major players (Zechariah, Joseph, Mary, the shepherds) and revealed the truth about how much they gave of themselves. How when God asked for more they replied with not only a yes, but often a song. The part of the nativity story that touches me most is the way each of the people broke through what society told them should happen and allowed God to use not just their day, but their entire life. How many times am I asked something from my life and I give God an excuse instead of my willingness?

  2. Jenny, I've had these very same thoughts. I didn't watch the Passion until this past year because I really wasn't sure I wanted to or could watch the torture He went through that the movie captured so well. But, while watching it, the flow of emotions that came from seeing just how much he loved us and from thinking about how Mary must have felt was unreal. I have this tendency anyway to picture my own sons in tragic situations involuntarily when I hear what is happening with someone else. For example if I hear about a child with cancer I imagine it's my own child so as I watched the Passion I imagined it being one of my sons and it was horrific. Andrew is Autistic so I'm already extremely sensitive to how he is treated and Aaron isn't but I don't want him mistreated either. I can't imagine sacrificing their lives especially for a group of people who don't even seem to care.

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