Another name for Jesus’s mother is Mother Mary, because, figuratively speaking, as the New Eve, she is the mother of us all. She agonized with Her son as he hung from the cross and never left him, unlike His disciples who ran. Abandoned by his friends in His hour of need, I imagine that His mother tried to keep it together for the sake of her child. Ponder this for a moment. This aspect of Mary resonates the most with me, even though I am, as previously stated, not the most selfless of nurses. I might not have been able to stand at the foot of the cross. You never really know until you are in the moment.
When you are sick, don’t you just want your mother? Most people do. Naturally, there are varying degrees of sick. If my mother did not think I was that sick, she’d make me match the orphan socks in Sock Heaven. If I was a little sicker, I got Vick’s Vapor Rub, ginger ale, and a coloring book. When really down and out, she’d haul a TV into my bedroom and station it precariously on a book case. Susan Lucci and All My Children were the orderlies.
A very dear friend is in the hospital tonight and in need of healing prayers. Can you guess the name of this dear friend’s mother? Of course you can. She is not here on Earth any longer but lives on in spirit, in her recipes, and in the faith she instilled in her son and his family. I know that somehow, this Mary and Our Lady are hovering over the situation, sending down love from above. That’s what mothers do.
Herewith concludes Day 17.