"And the Mother of Jesus Was There"

 Yesterday I sat down to read in John 2 where I am in my devotions. (I decided to take a break from Ezekiel during this Christmas season!)

And I couldn't get past the first verse. "On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there."

It was not the wedding that drew my attention, or the place called Cana of Galilee, although songs have been written about Galilee, sweet Galilee, such as the one my sister Dorcas and I used to sing together as a duet--"Blue Galilee, Sweet Galilee, where Jesus loved so much to be." No, it wasn't about Galilee, however sweet and blue that sea was, which often threw itself into nasty fits during storms. 

It wasn't even about Jesus' mother--even though many Christmas songs include her, sung by Christmas carolers like the ones that went out recently to sing to shut ins, as if she wore some invisible golden halo.

It was the simple word "there" that stood out to me. 

Julie Griffiths, an old friend of Jonathan's, who just lost both her mother and father this last year, wrote to us all the way from England where she lives now with her husband. She wrote after Jonathan's mother died, and what she said resonated with Jonathan and me as much as any card resonated,

  when she said, "The loss of a mother leaves a big hole in your life--all that wisdom, love, goodies, and general 'thereness' is now gone..."

"Love, goodies, and general 'thereness.'"

         It couldn't have been stated better. One of the biggest things about good moms is the 'thereness.' 

The mother of Jesus submitted to God's will when the angel announced the virgin birth. Later after the shepherds came to the manger, Mary "kept all these things and pondered them in her heart."  But here is another aspect of Mary's motherhood that I hadn't thought of before.

                                                                   Mary was there.

She was not off where she shouldn't have been; she wasn't out in the wilderness like John the Baptist eating locust and wild honey and then preaching repentance and laying the Pharisees out for their hypocrisies. That was okay and right for John, the rugged evangelist. But not for Mary.

She was not out tending the sheep like the shepherds, hoping to see angels again. That was okay for the shepherds, but not for Mary. 

She was not working at Herod's palace like the servants. That was okay for those girls, but not for Mary. 

She was not traveling from the east on camels bringing rich gifts to Christ. That was okay for the wise men but not for Mary.

She was not even praying in the temple, however spiritual that was. 

That was the right thing for Simon and Anna, old saints who thus served God, but not for Mary.

Mary could have run off and done a myriad of other good and right things. But those were not the things for her to do or the places for her to be. Mary was simply there.

Right where she should have been in the moment. At a special event. With her friends, relatives, and Son. 

This Christmas season, we mothers have an awesome privilege of simply being "there" for our family. Not running off trying to collect more expensive gadgets we don't even need; not so distracted with "much serving" that we cannot be "there." Not hiding in a corner somewhere complaining about the grumpy great uncle and aunt we can't stand but whom we feel obligated to have for Christmas dinner; not surfing for hours on our phone and spacing out about our family.

But truly being "there," a mom with love, goodies, and "thereness." Thank you, Julie, our friend in England now, for this special thought!