After I finished reading Night 4 of our Easter Week devotional, I looked up to see my youngest’s face downtrodden with a few tears resting on her cheeks.
“Awww Honey, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“Why did they do all of that to Jesus? Why did He let them hurt Him like that?”
She climbed down from her top bunk and into my lap, and as I hugged her tightly and wiped her tears, I began to tell her why Jesus endured such torture for our sake. I told her how, if He wanted to, a drop of His blood would have been enough to save us all, but He choose to bare the whipping and the beating, and the crown of thorns on His head all for us. Amongst other things, I explained how Jesus wanted to relate to us. How – because of all He endured – He knows exactly what we are going through when we experience pain, mental anguish, temptation, fear, and broken-heartedness. He endured all of those things with the foresight to know that one day, we would experience those things as well, and when we did, we would not be alone in them.
Since that night on the floor in my daughters’ room, I have been mulling over those scenes that we read about. I can’t stop thinking about why Jesus would do all of that for me, but more than thinking about why, I am overcome with gratitude that He did. All throughout this week as I have taken time to reflect, I recall a lot of the times I have needed a relatable Savior, have been in my role as a mother.
In the early years of parenting, when postpartum depression overtook my mind, I felt trapped in a cell of darkness that seemed to never relent. I felt like no one understood exactly what I was going through.
But Jesus did.
He knew what it felt like to be mentally tormented because He experienced it through the crown of thorns that the Roman soldiers thrusted upon His head.
Through difficult seasons of walking through illness with both of my children, in the moments where my Mamma heart couldn’t take seeing them in pain anymore, I had to keep standing on the promise that “by His stripes [ the open wounds on His back from the lashes He endured from the soldiers] they [would be] healed.” (Isaiah 53:5) Salvation wasn’t the only free gift He gave me on that first Easter weekend. Healing was afforded to me – and to my children – through the beating and chastisement that He endured.
On days when I feel like I’ve missed the mark on being a “good mom” and disappointment begins to set in, I can remind myself that Jesus understands what disappointment feels like and can relate to where I’m at.
There are many of days when I am physically exhausted and I feel like I have nothing left to give to my children or my husband. When it feels like every ounce of life has been drained out of my pores, Jesus understands what that feels like. I get the image of him dragging His own cross through the streets of Jerusalem after the Roman soldiers had just beaten Him within an inch of His life. How exhausted He must have been. How badly He must have wanted to just lay down somewhere and rest. He understands my physical exhaustion better than anyone else, so when I cry out to Him, I’m not crying out to some distance god that can’t be bothered with me, but rather a living God who is intimately engaged with where I’m at, and provides rest for me that I can’t find anywhere else.
As it is with every other area of our lives, we have to remember that Jesus wants to be involved with our Motherhood as well. He wants to remind us that He rejoices with us in the delightful moments, but He also sits with us in the hard ones too. We can offer our tears and exhaustion to Him because He – better than anyone else – understands how we feel, because He has experienced those very same things too.
On this Good Friday, while it pains me (and Charlotte) to think about all that Jesus had to go through for my sake, I am overcome with gratitude that He would do it all for me, and that His sacrifice bleeds into all areas of my life, including my most sacred calling of Motherhood.
MAMMA ARIANNA 