cross

Good morning…

“Mary at the Base of the Cross,” reads the title of this painting by Chris Gollon.

The mood is melting, silent, somber. Even the glow of the moon drains down like a tear. Helpless hands hug weathered wood. One hand is upright, sturdy like a back bone. The other is cupped, holding an empty womb. Hollowed-out shadows streak the blue-grey cross. Hidden, a mother’s heart is dripping with anguish.

Now she remembers the last words her son said to her. At the foot of the cross… Jesus saw his mother and the disciple he loved standing near her. He said to his mother, “Woman, here is your son.” Then to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that moment the disciple accepted her as his own mother (John 19:26-27, NLV).

“Our wounds become the womb,” wrote Julian of Norwich. Each Easter weekend, an empty womb leads us to an empty tomb. Our pain gives way to God’s powerful peace. Our exhaustion surrenders into an expanding eternity. Our personal will bows to the purposeful will of God. At the base of a cross stained with sacrificial love, our living Lord connects us to ‘soul friends’. From that moment on, we accept others into our spiritual family.

…Sue…

P.S. Our spiritual family supports the joys and the sorrows gestating in our soul. “A ‘soul friend’ is a person you trust enough to share some of the deepest matters of your heart, someone who will listen to what you share without any kind of judgement, without trying to ‘fix’ anything, and without flattering or criticizing you,” writes Margaret Silf. “Soul friends are a bit like midwives. They help to bring Christ to birth in your life and your circumstances.” This Easter weekend, enjoy Joan Alexander’s talk from last month’s Women’s Lenten Lunch and Learn. Joan graciously unwraps for us the gift of ‘soul friends’.

Video of Joan’s talk.
mary
mary