Unrest continued gnawing at Mary’s soul. She knew not why. Her heart was split between her eager desire to see her son, and a strange resistance that kept wanting to hold her back and stay home. She was scared, but knew not why. This on-going infighting made her strangely irritable. She, who was known for her serene and peaceful nature, was uptight. It was in this mood that she snapped at Omar. Luckily, he was not around to hear her complain about his leaving the palm tree leaves, in a pile under the shadow of a tree, instead of laying them out one, by one, to dry. Just as she was picking one of the palm sheaths up, setting herself to the task, she felt a sudden stinging pain. Her had immediately swelled and was fast becoming numb, when she screamed for help. Omar, still on a palm tree cutting leaves nearby, ran to his grandmother´s call. He found her on the floor, feeling faint. He recognized the symptoms immediately. It wasn´t uncommon to find scorpions on palm tree leaves, at this time of the year. She had been stung. He knew that, though scorpions in the region were not deadly, they could stop your breath. So he wasted no time hurrying to bare her arm and tie it with her sash, as he took her hand and started sucking on the wound. Over and over he spit the venom out, flushing her blood out painstakingly. Slowly, she came back to herself, regaining her strength. Seeing she was better Omar rushed to find and kill the scorpion, but Mary held him back. “Don´t” she said faintly. “Even scorpions are God’s creatures. His sting is a sign that must be honored. Let him be”.
Back in the house, when the commotion had stilled and nightfall befell, Mary wondered to herself, what it all meant. ‘Let it be, let it be’ she kept repeating, as if to convince herself to stop trying to control fate and ‘let go’. She found solace in her psalms and prayed: “Out of the depth I cry to you- Lord, hear my prayer; let your ears hear my voice of supplication” and after bitter tears, finally subdued, she continued, “My soul relies on your word -Your will be done, not mine”, and at last in resignation, she found peace and fell asleep.
As I prayed with Mary, I found it was my profound grief that yearned for relief. Presently, I realized that it was I who was making the trip to Jhesus. I had been on the road all my life, resisting the suffering that necessarily lied ahead. And I cried bitterly. “Mary, walk with me”, I prayed.
No comments:
Post a Comment