To tell you my story I must start at the beginning. I remember it so well. I mean who could forget a visit with a heavenly being. I was just a girl when the angel Gabriel came and told me I was to conceive and give birth to God's son. I was perplexed, "How could this be?" But I believed God's message and trusted him.
He was a wonderful child. He never did anything wrong. Many mothers call their babes angels, but we all know they're really not perfect. But Jesus was. I think that's how we lost him one time. We never had to worry about him. He always did what he was told, and so when the caravan left Jerusalem we just assumed he was with some of our family members who had made the trip with us. After a day of not finding him we returned to Jerusalem. We searched for him for three days before finding him in the temple. He was sitting with the teachers asking them questions and astounding them with his understanding. When I questioned him, he told me he needed to be about his father's business. Again I was perplexed. But I hid his word in my heart. Jesus always honored us, his father and I.
I can clearly recall his first of many miracles. We were at a wedding in Cana and they had run out of wine. This is a huge faux pas. The couple would have been severely embarrassed. I told Jesus. Then I told the servants to do whatever Jesus told them to do. I was astonished when they filled the pots with water and then served it to the master of the banquet. But Jesus had performed a miracle. The water was turned into wine. And it was the best tasting wine that anyone had ever had.
For three years Jesus performed many miracles and taught the people. Some of the things he said were very confusing. He would antagonize the religious leaders with his words, but he was kind and gentle to the hurting, often ministering to them late into the nights. He would separate himself to pray. He knew how to communicate with his heavenly Father and taught us to do the same.
Our tradition was to go to Jerusalem for the Passover. My heart nearly stopped when I saw him about to climb onto the back of the unbroken donkey. I thought for sure he'd be bucked off. But he handled the wild beast in the same way he handled the people, with gentleness and it responded to him. He entered the city in triumph. The people waved palm branches and laid their coats before him. They shouted, "Hosanna, hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." Jesus was to be the King we had been promised. God promised us a Messiah who would save us. The people recognized Jesus, or so we thought.
Four days later after Jesus had finished his Passover supper with the disciples, he went to the garden to pray, which he often did. There soldiers captured him. They led him to the home of Caiaphas and then to Pilate. Pilate tried to release him, but the rulers of the synagogue riled the people up and called out for a murderer to be released, rather than my innocent son. They convinced the people that Jesus should be crucified.
My heart nearly broke as he was flogged, and tormented. I followed the crowd as he made his way up Calvary. I could barely see for the tears that flood my eyes. My son, my promise from God, the Messiah, was being led away like a common criminal. "He's done nothing wrong," I wailed. But they could not hear me over the cheers and leers of the crowd.
I watched as they nailed his hands to the beam and then raised him up over the crowd. They were not gentle with my precious son as they nailed his feet to the cross. Above his head stood a sign, "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews." At noon the world went dark. For three hours we stood there watching, some of his last words were "father forgive them." Even amongst all the torture Jesus begged God for the forgiveness of the people. And then he took care of me to. He looked at his best friend John and commissioned him with my care. I was to be his mother and he was to be my son.
When Jesus finally died, a righteous man petitioned Pilate for the body so that it could be properly buried. Myself and a few of the other women that ministered to Jesus, followed; so that, we would know where he was. We wanted to be able to return and properly anoint his body.
After seeing the tomb we returned to the city. We were unable to do anything the next day because it was the Sabbath and all work was forbidden on the Sabbath. On Sunday morning, we headed out early. We carried spices and perfumes to the tomb. The ladies and I were discussing how we were going to get passed the guards. I was his mother and I would not be denied entrance. We got to the tomb and were astonished the stone, that massive stone that had been protecting my baby boy had been rolled away, and where were the guards, they were nowhere to be found! I ran to the entrance, I let out a wail. My baby was gone. Suddenly there was an angel and he asked me, "Why do you seek the living among the dead. Jesus is not here he is risen!" My heart leaped for joy within me. My son, my promise from God, the Messiah he had risen. He had conquered death. He had truly become the one to save us. But not from the corrupt government, but from ourselves. From our own sins.
Jesus walked on the earth ministering for another forty days, teaching us everything we would need to know. And then, right before my very eyes he was taken up into the clouds but not before he commissioned us. We were to tell everyone the good news, but not until we received the promise from the father. We were to go to Jerusalem and wait. Wait we did. One hundred and twenty of us. And it came the promised comforter. The Holy Spirit. He empowered us to tell everyone about the Messiah. And the best news of all that He's coming back someday soon!
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