Through My Eyes-Mary's Poem

Jesus is the name of my son.

Born for sin to overcome.

Barely a child and hated and feared,

As his Mother, believe me,

There were many a tears.

A cute little man as any Mother would say.

I always loved to watch him play.

Climbing trees and running free,

His hands and feet all covered with dirt.

What Mother could imagine the future hurt?

I’ll never forget that day at the temple.

In fact, I chuckle when I think of the men assembled.

That ornery Jesus, so confident and secure,

Had all the teachers listening to his every last word.

I cannot deny Joseph and I were upset.

We feared we had lost him,

And in my heart, I couldn’t bear it just yet.

Watching him grow and learning his Father’s trade,

How could I have stopped him from being betrayed?

He was always so pleasant and loved a good laugh,

And I will say on his behalf,

People were drawn to him everywhere he went.

He was always engaged one hundred percent.

Of course, his first miracle was water to wine,

It was a party, and he wanted the hosts to shine.

Thinking back now, how could I have known,

What truly was to happen once he was grown.

I know God told me my son would be the savior,

But what young Mother could understand that kind of favor?

While I trust and love The Father, I’m still a Mother inside.

It’s difficult to imagine your son will be denied,

By those who love him and stand by his side.

And the thought of rejection and betrayal is bad,

And trust me, it truly makes a Mother’s heart sad.

But knowing all these things still does not prepare,

A Mother’s heart to see her child broken and in despair.

I wish Joseph were here to bear this with me,

And yet I am grateful for what he won’t see.

I believe God when He told me His Plan.

I do not question The Great “I Am.”

Yet again, I am a Mother, and my heart still begged for mercy.

Please Father, please don’t let this be true.

Please don’t take my son in this way,

Despised and rejected, beaten, and betrayed.

Please don’t have him nailed to a tree.

I still see him climbing those trees and scraping his knees.

It used to give us all such joy,

Watching Jesus, our little boy.

And Father, Those hands, and those feet,

Must they really be nailed to that tree?

Father why must he be beaten and mocked?

Surely this is something that can be stopped.

Alas, it is happening.

The time has now come.

My sweet little Jesus is destined to be The One.

The Sacrificial Lamb, He is the Son.

My son Jesus will overcome.

It’s hard to comprehend that His death has won,

Victory for all, with His words, “It is done.”

So please, it’s important for everyone to know,

The story of Jesus from so long ago.

He was my earthly son.

His work on earth is done,

And God has blessed us all,

Through Jesus who is The One.