Madre Mia

1395271_10205356736017834_2897056523776631652_nI wonder if Mary ever looked at her son’s report card and shook her head.

Rolled her eyes as she picked his heavenly socks off the floor.

Reminded Jesus to flush and wash his hands.

Told him he couldn’t play Minecraft until he finished his homework.

I wonder if she pulled the covers over her head, and wondered if she was ruining him.

Pondered, in her heart, if medication was necessary.

Is it possible that Mary read parenting articles online?

Did she cut his sandwiches into triangles?

Or place two spoons on the table so they wouldn’t be corrupted by other foods?

Did she know the fine line between hug and strangle?

Did she chase Jesus around, forcing him to kiss her before school?

How many times did he get to be angry with her because she was safe?

Probably never.

After all, her kid was God.

But yet, I look at her, and I know she understands it all anyway.

3 thoughts on “Madre Mia

  1. There’s only one story of Jesus as a child in the Bible. Sometimes I wondered if that was because Jesus as a picky eater just didn’t jive with Jesus as the savior. But still, that story always makes me feel a little closer to Mary.

    Jesus was twelve and the family had traveled to the city for a religious festival of some sort. (The details escape me.) As they were on their way back, Mary suddenly realizes Jesus isn’t with their group and begins to frantically search for him. She and Joseph find him back in the city speaking with the religious leaders and he takes her to task as only a boy of twelve can, asking her why she was worried about him when he was in his father’s house.

    But she is frantic and worried as any mother would be after losing her child in a crowded, unfamiliar city and that come through. I can’t help but think of all the other times she felt the same pain, the same worry, the same fear.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s