With blog night being on Christmas Day, I decided to wait a day to allow my readers as well as myself to spend time with family and celebrate the birth of the Messiah. With that being said, Merry (late) Christmas to all of my readers! I hope your holiday was filled with the presence of God, laughter with family, and good food.
On Christmas "Eve Eve," I wrote a poem about Jesus and His mother, Mary. They had a special bond that people do not discuss often, but it was special nonetheless. They were a mother and son. I cannot imagine the honor she must have felt to know that of all of the women in history God chose her to give birth to and raise His Son. I cannot imagine how she must have felt when people did not believe her and judged her for what she did not even do. I cannot imagine how she must have felt when she held our Savior for the first time and when years later she saw her baby on the cross. I bet as He hung there, all she could see was the little boy who she laid in the manger, who she watched teach people in the temple at only twelve years old, and who she laughed with when He was a teenager. I wonder if while she knew Jesus had to go to the cross, that part of her still questioned why God would allow this to happen to her son. I wonder if when she heard the news of the empty tomb that she smiled as if to say, "That's my boy." It is amazing to think that Jesus had a mommy as we do.
Here is my poem, "His Mother,"
To her, the angel came.
He told of Him who would heal the lame.
Excitement and fear went through her mind,
But in her heart, only love she could find.
When she first held Him,
The world no longer felt dim.
As He grew, He enlightened her life;
She knew He would defeat sin and strife.
Seeing Him bloody and in pain,
She trusted in the Name above all names.
To His Father, He went home,
But He did not leave her alone.
When again they met face to face,
She thanked Him for His amazing grace.
