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By Psimple
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03 May 2006 |
A monologue...Mary's story.
He’s My Son
Mary, His mother.
I can’t breathe. This fear,... it's tearing me apart. It makes every breath desperate and painful. When I woke up this morning I took breathing for granted. I took a lot of things for granted. Things like safety and knowing how to protect my children. I knew this day would come, but I wasn't ready, I'm not ready! My son even tried to prepare me, to teach me how to survive this...this fullfillment of prophecy. The prophecies speak of wounding and piercing...of crushing. The prophets spoke of the Messiah, but this fear I feel, is not for the Messiah...it's for my son. I'm terrified of the things foretold, and of the things I can't see. There's so much I don't know!
Peter is missing, Matthew is trying to get details for us. We're getting word that there was a mob involved. I should probably be with the friends and family gathered downstairs, but this pain is too harsh. I don't want to be with people right now, I want to be with my son. My arms hurt with the need to hold him, comfort him...protect Him. I feel so powerless and helpless. He’s not just my teacher, or my mentor...this is my son they’ve taken.
I’m His mother! He may be the Messiah, but I rocked Him to sleep. I sang Him lullabies and kissed his knees when he fell down. I know what the back of His head smelled like when He was a baby. I held those tiny, perfect feet in my hands and counted each toe, every day for weeks. I knew what each cry meant and how to fix it.
Not tonight, tonight I can't fix anything!! Tell me what you’re supposed to do when they arrest your child and take Him away?! I need answers! Where did they take Him? Is he in chains? Is He cold and hungy. Have they hurt Him? Is He alone now, or did Peter stay with Him? Why would they arrest Him in the middle of the night? I don't even know what they're accusing Him of!
Father God, none of this makes any sense! Where are You? He needs you right now, more than ever...and I need,...I need, Him. I've never felt so helpless and alone. I hate that I wasn't there for Him! I can't even imagine what He's going through. I need to hold my son in my arms and tell Him that everything is going to be okay, to look into His eyes and offer Him whatever comfort I can.
Heavenly Father, guide us through the night. Be our strength and courage in the valley of darkness we're walking through. Father, bring the morning quickly...bring my son home safely to me.
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Written by Bottleblondesurfer (3445 comments posted) 12th May 2006 | I've come back to this a couple of times without comment because I didn't know what to say. It is a very unusual and original view of the death of Christ and I applaud your imagination but it was also about a mothers agony at the loss of her son which made it too sensitive an issure to comment on at first..I'm still not sure how I feel about it. But it is undeniably a powerful read.
BBS |
Written by Psimple (30 comments posted) 13th May 2006 | There is something about Mary's story that resonates with me. I've always been a bit frustrated by the picture of a mother grieving in peace and quiet as her son is tortured, abused, belittled, humiliated and finally hung on a cross to die a slow, agonizing death. I'm a mother and I would not have taken the whole thing lying down. Just wondered what this saint of a woman might really be feeling and struggling with when no one was watching.
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Written by IPFaulkner (83 comments posted) 29th May 2006 | ONly critisism is I would decapiltalize the Him's. He was presumably not a capital H to his mother.
Original idea to me
IPF |
Written by Psimple (30 comments posted) 30th May 2006 | Good point!
Force of habit there. Although, I think Mary understood more than others the truth of her son's identity.
-Psimple |
Written by B.D. (82 comments posted) 31st May 2006 | | I think you made a spelling error with "hungy" but I love the monologue, especially at the end when it kinda rhymes. |
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