O holy mother
Most blessed
We know all about the Christmas story.
We know about the road to Bethlehem,
The shepherds, angels, wise men
We know about the night in the manger and the trip afterwards to Egypt.
But Mary,
we don't know anything about the road leading up to Easter.
Did you grieve Joseph when he died?
Did your other children (or perhaps nieces and nephews)
step in and give you shelter and peace?
And how closely did you follow Jesus?
You always seemed to be there--
Did you follow close enough to be at the Last Supper?
Did you see the famous kiss?
And did it break your heart?
Mary, I remember you during Holy Week.
I hope you were among the crowd
with a palm frond in your hand.
I know that you were at the cross-
and I hope it gave you a certain pleasure to know
that even then He thought of you.
You are with him now, rejoicing in Heaven with him.
God bless you, Holy Lady.
As we walk down our road, from time to time we notice pebbles along our way. Sometimes they're nothing more than pretty little stones, but other times they are there to remind us of battles we have fought, demons we have conquered, or even times that we've lost and learned valuable lessons in the losing. We can choose to leave the pebbles where they are and forget, or we can pick up the pebbles and turn them into markers--reminders of our journey and the lessons learned.
Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
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