Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God (II Corinthians 1:3-4).
God warned Eve, the mother of all the living, she would endure “momma-suffering.” She was the first to weep at the grave of a son and anguish over the violence of another. Since billions of moms have known bitter tears. The mother of our Savior heard that a sword would pierce her own heart. If ever a mom had reason to have expectations, it was Mary. Surely, the woman God chose to nurse and nurture His Son would know indescribable joy. It is our nature to see every little wonderous part of our child as beholding—even when the world does not agree. But Mary’s son, He could turn water into wine. He silenced storms, healed ravaged bodies, and multiplied tiny loaves and fishes. We know the full story. Jesus did suffer, so did Mary.
Do you find yourself there, today? Are you standing at the grave, bedside, or diagnosis that seems impossible? Are the actions, choices, or condition of your child’s heart like an avalanche leaving your life in lay waste? The Father of compassion sees, my friend. Just as He saw His momma reeling from the unimaginable horror He faced upon the cross.
More than comfort came to Mary’s rescue. Her Son was the finished work. Her Son made a way for our sons and daughters. He defeated the very things that cause mommas to go weak in the knees. Before Mary’s joy, there was waiting that must have been confusing, grievous, and dark. Between a lifeless body and a resurrected one, Mary endured. Can you relate? Does the prospect of your child knowing redemption (maybe your adult child) seem too far off or impossible?
Contemplate the truth that the concept of motherhood was our Heavenly Father’s idea. He understands you. Your sorrow over your child can reveal a glimmer of how hemmed you are, as His child. These days, I am watching my own daughter settle into deep grief. The sweet son in her womb will not survive much past birth, if at all. It is the in-between time. Before she witnesses her son’s full redemption. Before she joins him, full and whole and more alive than ever at heaven’s gate. And right here . . . He is hers and mine, and your compassionate Father.
After the fall came the fall-out and we sorely feel the effects upon our children. Eve paved the way for the bruising of motherhood. God made a way through the atoning work of His Son. Do not give up, momma. Until you see full redemption, God will be faithful to grant the learned language of comfort.
By Joy McClain