The memory of Simeon's words to her in the temple when Jesus was not one year old were kept captive in her heart, but she pondered them every day. He had held her precious son, her very life, in his hands and looked into her eyes. Quietly he said,
"This child will be the cause of rise and fall of many in Israel."
When Jesus was placed safely back into her arms, she felt the warmth of the living God against her breast.
"And you, dear mother, will have your heart pierced with pain," he finished.
Mary had contemplated these words for the last thirty years. She knew that her son was sent by God, that there was a terrifying salvation about to unfold, but to her he was simply Jesus. He was her little boy who played in the sand and sang songs with her as they walked through the gardens. She remembered teaching him how to pray, and wondering how it was that she would teach God himself how to pray and worship in faith. Yet she did.
Watching him grow into a young man, she prayed every day that God would give her the strength to let him go when it was time. Many of his friends began to marry, yet she didn't push Jesus. Oh God, she thought, what a father he would be! Grandchildren would delight her, and badly she wanted them, but she quietly continued to serve him as his mother and closest companion.
A few months earlier, her son told her that he needed to leave home to teach. She did not understand, but she blessed him and watched him walk alone into the desert as a tear rolled down her cheek. Since that lonely day, she had heard stories from travelers and relatives that many crowds began to accompany him when he spoke. They told her with astonishment of the voice that hundreds from heaven when he was baptized in the Jordan, saying, "This is my beloved son, of whom I am well pleased."
Of course, she laughed to herself. If they only knew.
Harsh whispers in the stone hallway brought her back to reality. The groom looked around with panic, "Out of wine? How can that be?" He knew as well as she that this would bring shame to his bride and her family. He looked so lost as his eyes met Mary's, quick to turn away and frantically gather his servants.
She spotted Jesus in the sunlight, smiling in conversation with a friend. Walking up to him, she gave her son, her beloved son, a hug and cupped his cheek. "Are you enjoying yourself, Mama?" He asked. She nodded with confusion in her heart looking into the warm eyes of her little boy, then to his gentle smile, then his beard. His beard, yes. She felt so torn, but she must remember that he was a grown man. She so wanted to protect him, she even wished they could go back to their poverty in the cave on the night of his birth. Anything to simply hold him close for hours upon end. But that was then, this is now. It was time to share him with the world.
"They are out of wine," she said with a tilt of her head and a pained smile in her eyes. Jesus understood. He looked into the stone hallway and saw the worry of the family. "Mama, It's just....not now. It's so soon.."
Knowing fully that this would mean the beginning of the end, she shakily grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "They are out of wine, Jesus," and she kissed his cheek and walked into the house.
"Do whatever Jesus tells you, we realize you are in a bit of a struggle," she told the servants. They nodded in confusion. Her work was done, and she knew that what was to come would change the life of her and her precious son forever. Let it be done unto me, she whispered, looking up towards the sky.
Mary, our mother, watches over all of her children at the table of the living feast. That's us! We who dine at the table of Jesus are watched over by the mother that was given to us by our Lord. She notices when our cups are not overflowing, and she goes to Jesus. What happens next? John 2:9
In perfect faith Mary intercedes for us to her son constantly, then backs away humbly into the shadows as her son changes our water into the finest wine. We would be wise to always take her gentle instruction, and do whatever he tells us, giving him the water of our entire life and knowing with certainty that he will transform it into a spring of never-ending wine in his glorious feast.
Beautifully written!
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