In this reading, it becomes obvious to me that Luke must have interviewed Mary for his narrative of Jesus life.
First, the stories are the kinds that a mom would remember all the way to the end of her days. Jesus birth, that time at the temple when a righteous old man said he could die happy because he met your newborn, that time you lost your 12 yr old for a whole 3 days... those sound like mom stories to me.
And every story concludes with "But his mother treasured all these things in her heart." Which I'm guessing Mary didn't report, but rather Luke saw while interviewing her. That distant look in her eyes. The joy and pain and every deep emotion radiating from her face as she loses herself in the memory.
Today was my "Zander" day. I didn't try to do anything besides hang out with my three year old. Sometimes this is a challenge. Three year olds can be boring and tedious to play with. Endless repeating loops and shoving random things into my mouth can give me a hard limit of 30 minutes before I start to lose my marbles.
But some days....a mother gathers up and treasures them in her heart.
After we dropped everyone at school, Zander asked if we could go to the creek and go scooting. There is a paved trail along the creek and he zoomed off. I jogged behind. The sun was bright and tiny diamonds twinkled across the surface of the creek.
Suddenly Zander veered off the main trail onto a gravel foot trail. It was terrible for scooting but absolutely beautiful for jogging.
We went quite far along the foot trail until Zander found a nice place along the creek to sit and throw stones into the water.
He threw rocks. I closed my eyes and soaked up the sunlight and the sound of the creek gurgling around me. I stared into the water and thought about how God's grace rushes into our lives like the stream running over the rocks. An endless abundance of grace that keeps coming day after day.
Zander came and sat on my lap and we threw rocks into the steam together. Then, he was ready to go.
We meandered along various trails until we made it back to the van. We came home and snuggled on the couch with a giant pile of board books. I must have read 30 books to him under a super soft fuzzy blanket, his tiny body melting into mine. Joy on his face and excitement in his eyes as we read favorite book after favorite book.
"... and his mother treasured up all these things in her heart. "
The whole day was like this. We played. He napped in the car when I picked up miles from school. The three of us had a lunch date at Wendy's. Then, I picked up the big kids.
Eddie came out of school with a bright smile and his fresh haircut. They took 8th grade graduation pictures today. His teacher emailed "final countdown" list of all the big activities before graduation - DC trip, end of year trip to six flags, award ceremony, final chapel graduation ceremony. Why was I crying?
There is a timelessness to motherhood. I can look at any of my boys and see the moment I first met them tiny and wiggling, the moment they took those drunk first steps, silly things they said as toddlers. I can see all those things all at once. I can hold every version of themselves in my heart and love them all.
There is a sensitivity to motherhood. I don't cry when I'm sad or hurt. But seeing my kid write their name after struggling to hold a pencil or using a hand dryer after years of fear of them. I'm ugly crying.
"... and his mother treasured all these things in her heart. "
She must certainly did.
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