Where was Mary?

​My single life has been filled with plenty of ups and downs, twists and turns. Now that I have embarked on parenthood, it is no different.  In fact, it’s abundantly worse…oh yeah, it’s got the normal ups and downs, twists and turns.  Parenting is filled with adventures, complete with backs and fourths, side steps, zigs, zags, abrupt stops and starts, all when I am least prepared.
 
When I find myself floundering to find the right words in a hard situation, my mind often goes to Mary, the mother of the son of God. I often wonder if she ever wrestled with finding the right words. I find myself thinking about the unspoken years of raising Jesus and wonder if she stumbled through conversations, was misunderstood, or botched some messages while talking to him.  Did Jesus ask her questions that stopped her in HER tracks? I am curious if she ever was just busy doing her day-to-day tasks when Jesus came in and asked her, “Mom…where do babies come from?”  Or did he just know. 
 
Of course, the bible spotlights her son, which as it very well should. But I do find myself thinking about the parents who were involved in raising only the most flawless of people to walk this earth.  Were they ever stressed? Did they think about his safety? Did they attempt to lay out expectations for him to do his homework, take out the garbage or make his bed? Did he ever miss curfew? Did he even have one?  
 
Did Mary wake up in the middle of the night with fleeting thoughts, worries and, well, hot flashes?  Did she internally feel so out of control at times that she couldn’t face people?  Did she have nights where she sat alone in the garage, trying to find the courage to gather her composure before walking into the house?  I wonder if she ever felt like things were coming in too fast for her to process.  Or was she…ah-hem…better than me? 
 
The answer is yes. Yes, Mary struggled. She struggled because she was…a mom. 
 
I know she had some sleepless nights. I am certain her heart broke a few times over the years.  No parent is exempt from that.  God gave us emotions to feel, so I am sure she did just that…she felt. Just like I feel.  And as my wandering mind reminds me, even God feels – both the good and the worst of the worst. 
 
I have spent a lot of time trying to find parenting secrets in the bible…specifically, regarding Mary and Joseph.  To my obvious expectation, there isn’t a ton. There is a lot about personal behavior advice, but the only “real” parent story I could relate to is the story of Jesus in the temple.  In Luke 2:41-52, Mary and Joseph go to Jerusalem for Passover and bring little Jesus.  After the days long celebration, they packed up and went home.  Now, I love my kids.  I love them more than words could describe. But I too, have left without one of them only to discover she was missing miles down the road. It comforts me to know that Mary and Joseph did the same. To include this in the bible reassures me that none of us are perfect.  Just like this story in the bible, it is an amusing story after the fact. God probably knows it happens more often than any one of us could admit.  
 
I probably read this temple story as a younger, childless Merianne Colletti and thought nothing of it.  But now that I am a mom, I read this scripture and all I can do is think…this poor mom.
 
If Mary is like me, I bet Mary was beyond hysterical. If she is anything like me, the stage from discovery of the missing child would go from the careless feeling of misplacing my coffee mug, to the sudden, time-stopping, vomit-inducing, hands-shaking, panic of the loss of the very baby she has been blessed…no CHOSEN…to raise. Now, don’t get me wrong, every soul is an important soul. But she misplaced the SAVIOR OF THE WORLD! Yeah, that’s pressure of unimaginable proportion. 
 
OH! How the painful horror must have set in, slowing time so that minutes must have ticked by like years.  The fleeting thoughts whether Jesus was safe or in danger consumed her. If you have ever lost your kid, you know this ache. Or how about the pure passion at the thought of this sweet, big-eyed, chubby cheeked boy being innocently terrified at the thought of being left alone while his security - his parents left him behind.  If you have ever been the kid left behind, you know this ache.  I have been privileged to be both.  What I can be certain of is that Joseph didn’t move fast enough for her. I can only imagine the words exchanged between them as they ran back to Jerusalem.
 
We all have been here. Whether under the same circumstances or some other frustrating event, our kids have left us a pile of panic. I must believe Mary was no different than any of us. This is probably why they didn’t give Mary her own chapter in the bible. Can you imagine what she would have written?  I am pretty sure humanity would have stopped there.
 
But I digress…
 
I am sure she was angry; at herself and, at Jesus. The bible reads that Mary and Joseph ask Jesus in Luke 2:48. “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been terribly worried trying to find you.”  It’s times like these when I am reminded that emotions are downplayed in text form, but I can only imagine that exchange was not as calm as I so hastily read today.  After all, she was…a mom. 
 
But when we are angry at situations like these, does it mean that our child has done wrong? Jesus made a decision.  Jesus made a decision that was best for HIM at the time. Isn’t that what we are trying to raise?  Kids that become adults that can make decisions, good decisions, that will bring them closer to the goal of being good people?  I have to keep reminding myself, there is no on/off switch. These growth moments are a stretch of our comfort; letting go and stepping back. I can assure you, looking back on all of the growth moments my kids have had, my hand has been forced by their agenda and certainly not mine in EVERY SINGLE ONE.  I think I can admit, if I followed my agenda, they would stay snuggly, small, and needing my wisdom and love all the days of my life. 
 
After Mary and Joseph see Jesus is safe, they took that well-earned deep sigh of relief, knowing Jesus was fine, three days later. THREE DAYS LATER!  Jesus was where we all should find ourselves at some point of our lives…in our father’s house. But this does not discredit the absolute darkness that engulfed Mary and Joseph for THREE days…until they found him. I find myself asking, are the words that would have come from my mouth AT THIS MOMENT going to help or hinder the situation?  In moments like these, am I speaking anxiety out of my own trauma I lived for THREE days, or are the words from the pure love of God the father that Jesus was safe?  Jesus made a decision!  While I wouldn’t agree with how he went about it, he certainly didn’t make the poorer decision to hang back to smoke pot under the bleachers at a high school football game…like I probably would have. 
 
I guess it begs the question, do parents have the right to be mad at their son [or daughter] when what he or she decides on their own turns out to be the very act that would help them navigate life?  I don’t know about you, but I would want this boy to feel a hint of the heartache I felt wondering if he was okay.  I would plot and plan the proper punishment to “teach a lesson.”  But is the lesson I want to teach more important than the celebration of the decision he made to SEEK Jewish teachers, listening to them, and asking them questions?  I mean “all who heard him were amazed at his intelligent answers.” [Luke 2: 47] Any parent would be proud.
 
In today’s day and age, Jesus would have been sent to his room without dinner and grounded for eternity. After that, he would have to write 100 times how he would promise to tell his parents where he was at all times.  There would be an apology note written to the local police department for getting them involved in the search. I am sure if Mary was a parent of today, she would be on the phone, drinking her Starbucks [or better yet, a justifiable heavy pour of wine], telling her bestie, “Can you even believe…?”  Ouch. Personal check point here. 
 
I am comforted to know that parenting was hard then too. Not that I wish any of these gut-wrenching ups and downs on anyone else, but it is nice to know that emotions, even parenting emotions, are REAL.  
 
Yes, I am an overthinker.
 
I have let this line of thinking take me down the dark rabbit hole of thought, complete with many surprise twists and turns of the underground maze thanks to my overthinking. What I can say from reading about this very stressful parenting event is that the desire to overthink about this and other parenting situations I have found myself in is NORMAL. As I read more about Mary in the bible, I see she had feelings like mine as a mom of today.  Yeah, Mary overthought.
 
In Luke 2:16-19, after Jesus was born and the angels appeared to the Shepherds, they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph to tell them what the angel said about their sweet boy. All who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said. Mary remembered all these things and thought deeply about them.  
Mary remembered. She thought DEEPLY about them. 
 
In Luke 2:51, after they found Jesus in the temple from THREE days of agony, (I still can’t EVEN…) his mother treasured all these things in her heart. I am not going to lie, I have looked at all translations of this verse in hopes to find the version where is says, “Mary made him eat soap until he told her he would NEVER do this again for all the days of her life.”  The closest I could find was the Message translation where she “held these things dearly, deep within her…”  Girl, I KNOW you did. 
 
I find myself thinking DEEPLY about what it will all mean when it comes to my kids’ lives. But is this the healthiest activity for the life God gave ME to live?  What good comes from me wasting thought on this? Can you imagine that night, when Mary went to bed after Jesus was finally found; after wandering THREE days trying to find her lost son, the torment her heart felt, the arguments she had with her husband, the worry, anxiety, and emptiness she felt? What a waste of her headspace if she would have focused on the would’ve…could’ve…should’ve. At the end of this day, the savior is safe. The crisis is over! The SAVIOR HAS BEEN FOUND!  Isn’t that enough?  Or does she need to add the punishment layer on top of it…you know, to make her feel better.
 
I need to remind myself daily that Mary overthinking about things through Jesus’ life didn’t save him from the eventual torture and death he would experience. Her continued thinking didn’t prevent others questioning her true miracle pregnancy. Her endless thoughts did not prevent the world from thinking the worst of her kid.  It’s why the bible doesn’t focus on it. It is fruitless. But it does comfort me to read. I am sure it robbed her of some restful nights, like this consistent parent mind exercise does to me. 
 
In reality, my overthinking isn’t going to change the outcome. The fact is I am not the ultimate planner for my children’s lives. Fighting my own need for control of them in hopes to ease my parent ache is MY daily challenge.  How do I handle challenges? I put on my armor.

• I Pray.
• I Ask God To Help and Guide Me.
• I Read Scripture.
• I Worship in the way I know how…through Exercise. Thank you God for the gift to move!
• I Ask God to give me the right words, the appropriate time to use them, and the strength to fight off any of my “better ideas” not to listen to God’s timing. 

But most importantly, I pray for God to reveal to THEM the message He needs them to hear. And the hard truth to this is that “Momma” doesn’t need to be a part of that. It’s THEIR journey with God, just like my journey with God has been just that…MINE.
 
I need to remember that, like me, Mary suffered through parenting. As it says in Luke 2:35, “and you Mary, will suffer as though you had been stabbed by a dagger.”  Yeah, I get that too. I will not pretend to know the pain you ultimately did watching your son die the most horrific death imaginable, but I do get the parent “hurt.”
 
I have concluded that the bible doesn’t speak of the details about raising Jesus because, as painful as this is to say, it was insignificant. In today’s day and age, there are so many resources to parenting – books, support groups, counseling. But the truth is, it all doesn’t matter. My job as a parent, from what I am gathering from the little that is discussed in the bible, is that God’s got them. I have to trust that. 
 
If we truly believe that God made us in our mother’s womb, (Job 31: 15), and that God’s timing rules all [Romans 8:18], then I also need to believe that God made all parts of us…and our children – the physical and the mental. God knows my kids. He knows their journey. The only thing God asks us to do is love them; keep them moving forward on this righteous road for His purpose during their life. It’s not so much about each side-step they take, just like we did when we were their age. 
 
This world is EVIL. And some could even argue that it is more evil than previous generations. I will save that debate for another time.  No doubt, Evil pulses all around us every day. But evil is distant when it doesn’t touch us, and extremely real when it does, no matter the decade.  We need to talk about it. We need to serve God so that we can thwart it, in Jesus’ name.  But for all the other things – what if I could…dare I say this…just lighten up on the small things? 
 
My kids will ultimately make decisions for themselves, just like I did, which led me to having them in the first place. That decision has brought me the most unspeakable joy and pain I could ever imagine. I wouldn’t change it for ANYTHING. 
 
I AM a mom, just like Mary.  And being a mom is stressful and, at times, painful, even unfair.  I would like to believe in the natural order of things where I can rest easy knowing each generation will live full lives and die at a ripe old age, in our sleep. Unfortunately, the evil on this earth, or its free-thinking sinners, don’t promise this. Nor did God, not even to Mary. The only thing I can rest my tired heart on is the comfort in knowing God’s got me. God’s got you. God’s got our babies.  After 3,000 years, it’s the one thing that has truly remained true, and it will be the one and only truth for 3,000 more.  
 
-Written With Much Love,
Merianne Colletti
March 15, 2023