Songs In The Night

²⁶ When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” ²⁷ Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. – John 19:26-27

Giggles & Goosebumps

I remember playing hide and seek as a young boy.  Stealthily sneaking into a closet.  Silently sliding the clothes on the bar.  Softly positioning my small frame in the corner and sliding the clothes back into position.  Holding my breath to listen for, “ready or not, here I come.”

And then I would giggle.  I recognize that laughter spells “doom” when you are hiding but I couldn’t help it.  I had a good hiding spot and I knew it.  Certainly I wouldn’t be found for hours.  Maybe even days!!  And then I would be smitten by the giggle bug.  I might as well have tried hiding with an elephant and a foghorn!

For a young child to stop such giggles is a little like trying to stop the hiccups.  Not wanting to prematurely sacrifice my hiding spot I knew I had to put an end to my giggling.  Pronto.  I figured the best way to do so was to try to think of something sad.  I knew I had to trick my mind with sober thoughts.  But what?

What was the saddest thing I could think of?  Death.  I wasn’t trying to be morbid but as my mind ran through the gamut of sad thoughts, the worst I could think of was the death of my mother.  As the thought crossed my mind my giggles gave way to goosebumps.

Worst Fears & Reality

Sadly, my worst childhood fear has now become realty.  Last night my mother succumbed to cancer.  Death has made another un-welcomed visit, leaving his cruel calling cards; numbed minds, heavy hearts and lots of questions about the future.  How do we pick up the pieces?  And once we pick them up, where do we place them?

As much as we would like to, we can’t turn back the clock.  We can never recover or relive yesterday.  There will be no more hugs or “I love yous” with mom.  Crawling in a closet and covering myself with clothing isn’t going to hide reality.  Mom is gone.

For the time being I can’t trick my mind.  I can’t turn these goosebumps into giggles.  At a time like this there is only one thing to do: turn to Truth..  I can’t bring back my mother, but I can turn to my Heavenly Father.  I can open my Bible and see what I can learn from Jesus.

Cross Eyes

As Jesus hung on the cross, He was badly beaten.  Isaiah tells us, “his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind” (Isaiah 52:14).  His back was torn open from the scourging.  His brow was bloody as He bore the crown of thorns.  His face was black and blue from being slapped and mistreated.  His heart was heavy as He bore the weight of our sins on his shoulders.  But the cup would become more bitter.

Despite His present physical condition, Jesus knew the worst was yet to come.  The sun would be darkened and the Father would have to look away.  God’s eyes are too pure to look at sin.  Jesus had never experienced a separation from His Father’s gaze.

As Jesus braced Himself for the turning away of the Father’s gaze, His eyes would turn to His mother.  Before He showed us the ultimate sacrifice as our Savior, He showed us the tender love of a son for His mother.

Behold Your Mother!

Despite the fact that His body was beaten and “broken” and the stench of death, His death, was in the air, Jesus’ heart was still swollen with love.  With all eyes on Jesus, He made sure His mother was taken care of after His death.

Although most of His disciples abandoned Him, John did not.  As Jesus looked at His mother He entrusted her future care to the “disciple whom He loved.” “Behold, your mother!”

Jesus would have grown up hearing the rumors.  His young mother was pregnant before she was married.  But Jesus and Mary knew the truth.  Jesus’ birth was no ordinary birth.  Jesus was no ordinary son.  Jesus’ love is unlike any other.  And Mary had the privilege of seeing it lived out on a daily basis.  But no more.  Death would sever the bond.  For a time.

Jesus and Mary

The love between a mother and her child is a special thing.  A mother’s sensitivity and ability to nurture is a very special gift from God.  Children intuitively know this, making separation difficult.  At any age.

I don’t know what an average day in the home of Joseph and Mary would have looked like.  If Jesus grew up in our house He would have had a nickname.  At least one.  Perhaps Joseph and Mary didn’t take the liberty considering the fact that Jesus’ name was Heaven ordained!

Nickname or not, I am confident that the bond between Jesus and Mary was a very special one, where love was spoken not just in words but in actions.  When Jesus would fall, Mary would pick Him up.  When Jesus was sad, Mary would comfort Him.  When Jesus was hungry, Mary would feed Him.  But these are just the obvious things.

In addition to the obvious, I believe a key part of what makes the love of a mother so unique is the intuitive aspect.  What we refer to as maternal instinct.  Mothers know when their children are struggling even though there are no evident signs to others.  A mother has a unique connection with her children.  They can read things in their children that no one else can.  But more importantly, they can meet the needs of their children that nobody else can.

It is no wonder Mary’s heart was pierced as her Son’s broken body was hanging on a cruel Roman cross.  If any human could “feel” Jesus’ pain, it was Mary.  Which makes Jesus’ care for her from the cross so special.  If only we could grasp the significance of the words John recorded about Jesus and His disciples, “when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end” (John 13:1).  The love of Jesus is not restricted by time, nor can it be quantified.

Desiring Love

As my mother was battling cancer, she had her share of highs and lows.  After the initial shock of the diagnosis, there were a few glimmers of hope as she had some positive responses to treatments.  As you might expect, this drawn out battle left her physically and emotionally drained.

As my mother was going through one of her difficult times, my sister was asking her some probing questions.  They discussed such things as my mother’s greatest fears and greatest needs.  In a moment of brokenness and vulnerability my mother simply stated, “I just want to be loved”.

Whether we are broken by cancer or not, isn’t that the heart cry of every human?

Love & Life

As the earthly life of Jesus was coming to an end, He looked out through His swollen eyes and beholding his heartbroken mother made sure that she would be taken care of.  With His lifeblood ebbing out of Him He made sure Mary would be loved and comforted in His absence.

As the earthly life of my mother was coming to an end, she became more afraid of darkness and being left alone.  Her mother’s heart did not want to be separated from her loved ones.

When my mother passed, all eight of her children were at her bedside.  As we cried and grieved, we assured her we loved her.  But despite our presence and our love, we were no match for death.  But Jesus is.

The love that motivated Jesus to provide for Mary’s temporal needs, sent Him to the cross for our spiritual needs.  Because Jesus died for our sins we no longer have to fear death (Heb. 2:14) as unwelcome as it my be.  Because of the love of Jesus, we can have eternal life.

If our loved ones die in the faith, our separation is only temporary.  It doesn’t remove the grief, it just covers it with hope (1 Thes. 4:13).

It has been less than 24 hours since my mother’s death.  The emotions are still raw.  Forgive me if this seems incoherent, but I just want to express my thankfulness for my Savior, who is light in darkness, who will never leave us or forsake us, who loves us with a perfect love and has conquered death so that our goodbyes don’t need to be forever.

Someday, I hope to “behold” my mother again.

Jesus Help Us

As we stood around the bed of my deceased mother last night, there were a lot of tears and very few words.  My fourteen year old son Caleb with Down Syndrome did not appear to grasp the magnitude of the moment.  As I scanned the room his were the only eyes without tears.  But then I realized that perhaps he had the best “comprehension” of the moment and the greatest faith.

In the midst of the grief Caleb said just three words, “Jesus help us”.

So He has.  So He will.

⁴ He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” – Revelation 21:4