Does Jesus Know What It’s Like to be a Mom?
How ridiculous is this flu/cold season? It feels like I’ve had water up my nose forever! And I have a poor little boy who is struggling with terrible sinusitis and tonsillitis. I’ve never seen anything like his throat! It looks like there are pieces of feta stuck in there! He has been inconsolable for nearly a week. Between his crying, and not feeling well myself I found myself vomiting from pure exhaustion of caring for him without rest through the night. All that graphic medical overshare to say - sometimes it just isn’t fun to be a mom. When you’d want to take a sick day, instead you end up pulling an all-nighter. Have you ever wondered if Jesus could possibly understand how you feel? I mean, first of all, he was a man. And secondly, he never had kids.
I came across this day in the life of Jesus in Matthew 14, and it made me think, maybe he does get it:
Jesus is at work, when he hears news that his cousin, John, has been murdered, beheaded by the king because of his ministry in pointing people towards Jesus. He is devastated. It is tragic family news, as well as a blow from a work perspective, and his own involvement in his cousin’s sentence just leaves him needing time alone to process. He withdraws to a desolate place in the hope that he can mourn and work through his emotions, and just take some time to regroup so he can carry on serving well. (So here, I’m picturing myself needing to regroup… you know what I mean…pretending you need the loo so you can be alone for a moment.)
But, surprise, surprise, the crowds heard where he was and they followed him and found him. (Yes, a bunch of children coming into the bathroom to ask you to mediate in the latest domestic wars while you’re faking that you need the loo seems like crowds.) He looks up and sees them, and how does he react? He has compassion on them because he knows they need him, and he heals their sick. (Oh Lord, help me have compassion tonight when my little guy calls out with a fever moments after I’ve fallen asleep.)
He ministers to them all day, and then when evening comes, he still has to feed them. They’re hopeless without him. So he performs a miracle and magics up some food for everyone. Because once again, he has compassion on them. He knows they need him.
And then finally, once everyone is taught and healed and fed and seen to, he has the wisdom to know that he still needs his moment alone. So he takes it. (Is this sometimes where we get it wrong as moms?) He sends his disciples off in a boat and he goes up a mountain BY HIMSELF to pray. He goes. By himself. Up a mountain. He knows full well that you can’t be Jesus without some help from above. The same goes for being a mom. “And when evening came, he was alone.” Blissfully. Alone. And he stayed there until God in heaven had supplied his needs; until he had dealt with his emotions, and had his moment, and been refreshed, and even been renewed. In fact, he stayed there until the wee hours of the morning. And boy, was it worth it! He surely wasn’t just having a bubble bath and reading silly magazines. He was being refreshed by heaven. Because when he comes down the mountain, look what happens: There had been a storm in the night and the disciples' boat had floated away from the shore, blown by the wind. “And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea.” He’s walking on water! He’s gone straight back to doing the impossible! And the most beautiful part is, he calls us to do the same.
Looking at this one ‘day in the life of Jesus’, I am left humbled. He knows. Yes, he knows what it’s like to keep going, even after a hard day, to put off dealing with your own needs because you have compassion on those who would be lost without you. He knows what it like to give self-sacrificially and even miraculously. And he also knows what it takes to be able to do it all again tomorrow. Moms, I invite you to take the time, when all is settled around you, to be refreshed by heaven itself so that tomorrow, you can do the impossible all over again.
