“Woman behold your son, son behold your mother.”
O Mother, how can you bear
this torture of your son?
You have been given to me,
I want to comfort you,
shield you somehow from the pain.
But,instead I weep on your breast,
you are cradling me,
telling me, “ Do whatever he tells you.”
Bewildered I think “what can I do
in the face of such a travesty.”
Then I remember, I can watch with you,
pray I will not be tempted,
confess the weakness of my flesh,
and ,wait in faith for the the third day.
Then bear witness to your triumph.
Risen, Risen as you said.
“ My Lord and my God.”
Diantha Zschoche Holy Saturday 3/26/16