Journey 1
I found her shaking, trembling inconsolably…she shivered under a foreboding shadow of terror, she knew not why. She suddenly felt alone…She knelt and as She covered her eyes to cry. She found herself leaning her head on an angel´s lap…or was it Joseph´s? It seemed so familiar. She had recently lost him and found herself about to commiserate pitifully about her agony, to God. But Job had come to mind…and she held back.
Somehow, this was different.
Again, she felt lifeless, totally depleted. But this time, her intuitive nature had tearful anticipation, of a bleeding heart. She knew it wasn´t hers. Her heart could bear being torn apart and pierced for Love.. but this was a pain too heavy to bear. She wept and as she washed Her tears away, found Her hands were full of blood. The lap held her bleeding face reassuringly. She cuddled closer, letting go. It somehow held her up and gave Her strength… and eventually peace.. not from acceptance but from holy resignation. “Not my will but Yours, be done, My Lord” She whispered….and fell asleep on the holy lap.
An hour went by, or was it a day.. it felt like centuries… She arose, strengthened with a courage beyond herself. Strangely, she had her son in mind, strongly fixed on going to Jerusalem. It was an urgent need to see Him.
Mary lived in Nazareth, in a little home embedded in the mountain. It was close to a well, with grounds, big enough to breed her chickens, goats and host a little garden with fruit trees and the herbs needed for healing the neighboring villagers. She lived with two daughters-in-law who kept her company and helped around the house. Her sons had gone off with Jhesus, stubbornly insisting he would need them. It was all so unexpected, so unconceivable…..far from anything She had ever hoped for them. Times were hard and unpredictable with luring danger all around. They all said it was the Romans who were the enemy, but somehow she distrusted even the Jews who now seemed so foreign.
She walked up to cup seeds in her hand and feed the chickens and a little bird she kept in an open cage. He had refused to fly away after healing his broken wing in her hands. His singing always eased her anguish.
It would take her at least two weeks to prepare for the trip to Jerusalem. She was already making a mental list of all She would have to do…fix olives…(would she pickle them or put them in vinegar?) She would have to buy fish (perhaps she would ask one of the local villagers to fish a fresh shoal for her, on the fishermen’s next trip to sea, at Galilee). She would have to salt it and hang it up to dry for at least a week…and Oh! She just had to finish the lovely silk shroud She had been weaving for Jhesus…She so worried about him and his nomadic travels through cold and winds.
It was at least 100 miles to Jerusalem. It would take well over 8 days to get there, since, she wouldn´t be travelling alone. Her two daughters’ in law would have to accompany her. She was 47 years old now. Her hair was almost completely grey and her feet were worn with life. Though she felt strong, they would have to take her 3 grandchildren along. The older one, now twelve, reminded her so much of Jhesus when she and Joseph had spent days looking for him in Jerusalem. He was about the same age. They had been so worried, back then…and, as it gladly turned out, needlessly so. Now, she was confident God would always be taking care of him, or would He? Could He? She shivered at the mere doubt and threw aside her ungodly thoughts.
Yes, they would have to travel along the Jordan, where they could quell the thirst of their caravanning animals. They would have to take the old cart, and at least three of four of the donkeys…and the mule would have to tag along just to carry enough food for the trip, and an additional rationing she wanted to take for Jhesus and the boys. She yearned eagerly to see Him and yet she froze at the thought.
It was a 90-mile walk to the village of Ein Karem, John the Baptist’s traditional birth place, and only five miles more to Jerusalem from the southwest. They would surely have to stay a day or two at Martha and Lazarus’ home. They would not forgive her if they knew she was going to Jerusalem and didn´t stop by to see them. They lived at al-Eizariya, Bethany, about two hours from Jerusalem. Perhaps she would find Jhesus there. She knew he always stayed with them. It was safe, and they were always so loving. What would she take for them? She remembered Lazarus had been ill for a while. After pausing to think of it, she was appeased with the idea of carving them some prayer beads.
‘Oh!’ She thought to herself suddenly, as the idea caught up with her that she would also have to churn goats’ milk to take some cheese. Yes, there was much to do.
It was a couple days later, when despite her busy agenda, a sullen sadness weighed down upon her shoulders, again. It even blocked the sunlight as it filtered through the grove, where she was pulling spices for her cooking. She suddenly burst out crying, despairingly, not knowing why. Her tears fell to the ground. Unexpectedly, a flower bloomed where her tears had fallen, as if filled with holy compassion. ‘Hold on’, it seemed to say, and she smiled inadvertedly. ‘Had that flower been there before’, she wondered?
Just then, her dogs ran directly to her side, wagging their tails excitedly, as if she had called for them. They had responded to her silent cry for solace. She patted them and pulled out, some dry unleaved bread from her garments´s pocket, which she had been crumbling for the chickens. They wagged on, gratefully. Oh! If only she could be so trusting; if only she could rejoice at little things and overlook the shadow of death that loomed beside Her. Again, she looked up at the Heavens and heaved heavily for breath.
Urgency returned, and pressed her on to hurry with her chores. ‘She would have to take the dogs along’, she thought to herself, regaining serenity.
As I contemplated, meditating over the scene, reliving every imagined detail, I realized Mary’s trip would take longer than the 40 days of Lent. In fact, her journey is probably still on-going, since she would be trying to reach each us all.
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