Mary, joyful mother, resting from the birth,
Do you sense the future for your Son on earth?
Angels, shepherds, wise men, all foretell a King,
But like every mother, you’ll know suffering.
Mary, anxious mother, searching for your boy,
Jesus does not mean to anger or annoy.
He’s still in the temple, asking questions deep.
This disturbing memory ponder now and keep.
Mary, hurt, excluded, standing in the cold,
Jesus inside preaching, challenging and bold,
Seems now to belittle all your love so free.
Who will be my family? Those who follow me!
Mary, watching sadly by the cruel cross,
Who can know your thoughts now, grieving in your loss?
Was it all for this, then? All your years of care?
He cries, “It is finished!” You weep with despair.
Mary, new disciple, in the upper room,
Waiting, watching, praying – Spirit’s coming soon.
Mother of the Christ-child, suffering, faithful, true,
We have now a Saviour. God be praised for you!
Words:© Gillian Collins
Suggested tune: “Cranham” (StF 204: In the bleak midwinter)
Luke 8: 20-21