A Lost Son

Luke 2:41-52

A mother’s imagination
Can be vivid.
Rich in detail.
Horrendous with possibilities.
Mary had imagined them all.
Thieves
Murderers
Slave-traders
Diseases.
Her son could have been lost,
Injured, afraid.
She had been filled with the guilt
Of leaving him behind,
And overcome with the worry
Of not finding him.

For three days they had searched Jerusalem.
For three days he was lost.
She had been devastated.
Frantic.
Finally, on the third day, he had been found
Teaching in the temple.
Their boy, who was on the cusp of manhood,
Had been amazing those who were listening to him.

Her astonishment at his teaching
Had been shoved aside by the
Hot fear in her anger.
“How could you do this?
You knew we would be terribly worried!”

With the growing superiority of a 12-year old,
He had answered,
“Why did you have to look?
You knew where I would be.
In my Father’s house.”
She hadn’t even listened to him,
Much less understood him.

Now, as the dawn turned into daylight,
And they prepared to return again to Nazareth,
She watched her son.

He was, amazingly, taller than her.
How had that happened?
He was strong, healthy, and becoming a man.
She stood in shock as she realized
That the Son of God
Had her eyes.

She had been entrusted by God
To watch His son.
To raise him,
To keep him safe.
Yet, she had lost him.
Ridden out of Jerusalem
And left him behind.
If a mother’s imagination is vivid,
Then her sense of guilt is
Unimaginable.

Jesus, her son, God’s son,
Walked over to her,
And with the gesture of a man,
Kissed her cheek,
And said,
“I love you.”