“The Mother Who Suffers With Us”

Mary and Gethsemane

Night had fallen, the stars already dressed in mourning, the sky clouded as the mind of man.
Mary, Mater Dolorosa..
Fear and dread her heart knew, she perceived within her very soul that pain, that anguish which were the very cries of her suffering son kneeling in the Garden Gethsemane .
Mary, Mater Dolorosa.
The awareness that bound heart to heart, knit soul to soul, that inner ‘knowing’ when the beloved is afflicted or in pain… even though the miles stretch out a thousand miles….even though an ocean divided them…………..
The pain of love that knows not separation but union, because it knows what befalls the one who suffers, it embraces it all within its own heart. Such was the pain of Mary, a sword pierced her heart, the sword of sorrow for the suffering of her son.
Christ knelt in bloody sweat within the darkened garden, abandoned by his sleeping followers, crying out in silent tears………………
Mary knelt within the walls of Jerusalem, the city of peace that knew not peace, and wept…… she knew and bore it all within her………..he was Flesh of her Flesh, Blood of her Blood, their hearts a burning sacrifice of love unto God.
Jesus her son, Yeshuah, born of her body, fruit of her Espousal to the Spirit, she knew his anguish, she heard his every sigh, she counted every drop of blood, she knew the price of mans redemption……….
His suffering, his dying and his death……………
O’ Mary, Mater Dolorosa.
Mary knelt in her Gethsemane, crushed in the wine vat of the Walls of Jerusalem, crushed by the lovelessness and sin of the many, and gently fell the tears… tears that love was rejected and that all too soon, all too soon, her son, her only son was to pass beyond her arms into the embrace of death.
She knew, for all that passed through his heart passed through hers, she knew, and she prayed..
She experienced the struggle……and at a consummate moment the Spirit whispered,
“Father! thy will be done”, and she, “Fiat, My God, Fiat………………
A stillness enveloped her, a breathless moment, then, wings of a mighty angel enfolded her, exuding drops of blood ……………………… consolation filled her soul
Poor Clare Colettines TMD <community@poorclarestmd.org>

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