(FROM MARY’S POINT OF V IEW)

We made the arduous trip to Jerusalem each year for the Passover celebration. Our family with many other relatives formed a caravan of sorts and traveled over rough terrain to pay homage to our forefathers and to praise God for His deliverance. Most of us walked alongside the wagons and caught up on things that had occurred over the past year. My firstborn son, Jesus, accompanied us every year.

He was growing up so fast. I still remember holding his tiny body right after he came into the world. His little hands clutched at my fingers. He looked me directly in the eye and knew who I was. I realized then that He was just on loan to me – a gift from God that would someday save the world from the clutches of sin. The words of the angel were branded in my heart. I would be the mother of God’s only begotten Son. I didn’t truly understand every aspect of that announcement but would be made aware as time slipped away and He became a man.

The marketplace was alive with animals to be sacrificed at the temple. There were vendors from all across the country, selling their wares. The scent of various herbs from foreign lands filled the air. Beautifully dyed fabrics were displayed on racks and swung wistfully in the breeze. There was an air of festivity everywhere.

As I watched my Son, scurrying around looking at everything, it occurred to me that he was growing up. He was almost as tall as His stepfather, Joseph. His shoulders were getting broader and he had an air of confidence about Him. Little did I know that those shoulders would one day carry the cross that would take Him from us. A lifetime should never be so short.

When it was time to leave the city, we packed up our belongings, filing the wagons with needed supplies and some things that weren’t really necessary. It was a time of goodbyes and hugs and getting organized with so much going on. As we traveled on, I realized that Jesus was no longer with us. My heart began to race. I feared for His life. I couldn’t be calmed. How could we lose our boy? We frantically returned to the city, retracing our steps. We looked everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. Just as we were about to give up, we noticed a crowd gathering at the temple. There He was, in the middle of them, speaking as one of the rabbis, but with even more authority. He told us He was doing His Father’s work. I was so happy that we found Him, I didn’t question His words until we left for home again.

The child that I carried in my womb for nine months – the boy, now becoming a young man – the lad who skinned His knees and played games with His friends – was now beginning His own ministry by doing His true Father’s business. This was just the beginning.