What did Mary see?

One afternoon I was sitting in our family room with one of the boys in my arms.  He was stretched out in front of me with his head in my hands and his feet against my chest.  Perfect for making eye contact.

As I sat there looking at him and trying to get him to look back at me and potentially smile (oh, how I love to see those smiles that are still so few and far between!!), I wondered what it was like for Mary to look into her baby's face.  Her baby ... Jesus; her child ... the Son of God.

What an amazing responsibility.  What did she see in those eyes?  In that face?  What were her thoughts as she looked at this helpless little baby who was also her God?

I can't even imagine!!  Wow, what a thought!

I feel overwhelmed at times when I think of the awesome responsibility I have in raising my two boys as faithful Catholics and servants of God the Father.  The sense of responsibility Mary must have felt had to have been enormous ... totally unfathomable to me.  She was raising a son who WAS God.

So as I looked into my baby's face and watched his jerky arm movements and the eyes that wouldn't quite look at me, I wondered about the baby Jesus.  Was He the same way? 

However, I wondered most about His mother.  What did she see when she looked into that face and those eyes?  Did He have those same jerky arm movements that little babies all have?  Or was He different?  Did He cry for her in the pitiful way infants sometimes do?  Did He keep her up at night?  Or was He different?

So many questions going through my head.

Mary pondered much in her heart and I bet she had many thoughts about what would become of her son when she looked into those little infant eyes of His.  Did those thoughts fill her with joy or sorrow?   Did she fully realize the sorrow and suffering that was in store for her?

Suffering is a part of motherhood and the Blessed Mother knows this better than anyone.  I find comfort in knowing that I am not alone as I begin this journey of motherhood.  As I look at my little one, cuddled in my arms, I like to think that Mary once did the same thing.  She is a mother and she is my mother.  With her by my side I know I can raise my boys well.

Blessed Mother, give me the strength needed to raise my boys in this crazy world, to share with them a devotion to you, and to lead them, through you, to your divine Son.  Mother Mary, pray for us.