Holy Week, and Motherhood

Yesterday evening, the little bears were difficult. We almost didn’t go to Maundy Thursday service because of it all. But then, we decided to go anyways, and I’m glad we did. The sermon was about “they shall know us by our love”. And, I realized yet again why I foster.

The word “Maundy” stems from the command Jesus gave his disciples at the Last Supper, to “love each other as I have loved”. He washed the feet of his disciples, and warned them of the coming difficulties. If you read the account for the first time, you almost expect the story to end in the Garden of Gethsemane. But, it just keeps getting worse and worse for the Savior. His friend betrays him, his other friends run away instead of standing by him, he is put on a mock trial, beaten again and again, mocked, provoked, rejected for a murderer, forced to bear his own method of execution many miles…

to Golgotha. To the crucifixion. But that is tonight’s event. And I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point that came home to me last night, was that Christ did the unthinkable long before the Crucifixion. The cross was the second-to-last unexpected and unthinkable event in a long series of unexpected and unthinkable events.

He washed the feet of his disciples.

He came to serve. He paused his journey to the cross to display, yet again, why the cross had to happen: because the Savior had to be a Servant.

At times, I feel like I am called to “save” my foster children. I want to pull them out of their horrible experiences, and give them something so much better. And I want them to show gratitude for it! Last night, however, I saw what this walk actually looks like.

Kneeling in the dirt to wipe off the feet of a child who insists that shoes are unnecessary.

Christ, the Savior of the world, kneeled to wash the feet of the disciples who did not know what he was doing. 

Comforting a little child  who is too over-tired to sleep, and screams to let you know his opinions.

Jesus’ friends could not even stay awake to be with him and comfort him when he was tired. 

Cleaning spit-up from the couch, the rug, my clothes, my hair, and going back with another bottle, because now there is a baby tummy that is empty again.

People surrounded the Son of God to spit on him, and he did not turn away from the task ahead. 

Walking out of the house and into the cockroach-filled-garage, rather than stay inside and listen to two over-tired babies screaming in their cribs.

Christ walked out of Jerusalem, his rightful inheritance and throne, to the Hill of Death, rather than stay inside and hear his people suffer eternally for their sins. 

Realizing that the cold glass of water I had poured for myself is now luke-warm, and has a fly floating in it, because a small child insisted that he get fed first.

Christ was offered bitter wine to drink on the cross so that I could drink the cup of salvation. 

Handing off my children to my husband, because I just can’t handle it anymore.

Christ gave his mother away to John, so that she would be cared for while he finished what God sent him to complete. 

Praying that God will just take this cup away from me.

“But not my will, but your will be done.”

In the end, this is my prayer. God has been using Lent to teach me (at least) this, to admit my fear, my weakness, my desires, but to end on His will.



One thought on “Holy Week, and Motherhood

  1. It’s so hard to serve… I am always wondering “when do I get my break?” But that’s not really the point. Jesus lowered himself and served to the point of death, which is what all his followers are called to do also…

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