The Courage of a Mother

No mother wants to see her child suffer. No mother has ever had to see her child suffer as she has. Like all mothers, her first instinct is to protect, to shield, to keep away the suffering. Torn by love. Torn by the sight of her Son. No one could invent a greater agony for her than this. She feels nothing. She feels everything. Surely her heart cannot take it any longer.

And yet, deep down in her soul, grace, a love unknown to man, stirs. A faith greater than Abraham’s rises. A hope able to conquer death breaths.

Meeting on the way to Calvary, she looks at her Son, weeps, and then urges Him on with an agonizing glance as if to say, “Yes. No matter how much it costs me, I want you to do this.” She is not a helpless bystander. She is in control. And she does not hold Him back.

At this moment, on the road to Calvary, as she sees up close the wounds, the crown, the burden of the Cross, Mary makes her choice. She does it. She has nothing left to give.