Free Three Days: A Mother's Story by Melody Carlson Page B

us can only imagine. And so it is my personal belief that these strong emotions and compulsions could easily overpower her to the point where she lost control of her life. Fortunately for her, that is when Jesus came along and drove them out of her.
    “I can never repay your son for what he has done for me,” she told me when she discovered I was Jesus’s mother.
    I nodded. “None of us can.”
    “Even you?” she said, her beautiful dark eyes opened wide in surprise.
    I smiled. “Even me.”
    “I have decided to devote my entire life to him,” she told me.
    “As have I.”
    Then she took my hand in hers and squeezed it. “Then we are like sisters.”
    “Sisters in our Lord.”
    “Mary and Mary.”
    And so we have been like sisters. I have loved this woman from the beginning. Of course, I must admit that I was a little intimidated by her at first, for it was plain to see, by her expensive clothing and refined speech, that she was a woman of considerable means. But when I looked into her eyes, I saw gentleness and mercy there. I saw wisdom and understanding—the kind that is conceived out of great pain. And I loved her even more.
    If Jesus were just an ordinary man and not the Son of God, Mary of Magdala is exactly the sort of woman I would have wished to become my daughter-in-law. She has the kind of intelligence and depth of spirit I admire. Even as I watch her serving here today, a woman who comes from a wealthy home where she is used to being served and waited upon, I see her humility of spirit, her thoughtful ways, and I am inspired.
    I know she loved my son deeply, and I think there was even a time when she was in love with my son in the same way that I was in love with my Joseph. But, to be fair, we were all in love with Jesus. How could we not be? To look in his eyes was to see God the Father. His presence alone brought comfort, grace, healing, mercy . . . to know him was simply to love him. And then, of course, some have the capacity to love more than others.
    But Jesus never took advantage of Mary’s passionate love for him, not in the way a human man would. And even as he allowed the various women to minister to his needs, he always maintained his position as teacher and Lord. There was never any misunderstanding in that regard. And I must respect Mary for this. She is an honorable woman. And, in some ways, she even reminds me of my cousin Elizabeth.
    Dear, dear Elizabeth. I was so saddened to hear of her death several years ago. Of course, she was quite elderly and was preceded in death by her husband, Zacharias. But I felt bad that she passed on before actually seeing the incredible ministry of both of our sons. How she would have rejoiced to learn of how her son baptized my son down in the Jordan River!
    However, my regrets quickly turned into thankfulness when I heard of the vicious murder of her son John. No mother should be forced to witness such spiteful brutality, not even from a distance. Even now I shudder to remember the story. But, in light of what has happened to my own son, I force myself to consider John’s execution once more. My young cousin’s troubles began when he rightly accused Herod, our supposed leader, for having taken his brother’s wife, Herodias, as his own.
    This public statement landed poor John in prison. Then, during a birthday celebration when Herod reportedly became drunk with mixed wines, Herodias’s daughter performed some kind of erotic dance that pleased the inebriated Herod. So much so that he offered to give her whatever she desired. And that was when the woman requested that he give her John the Baptist’s head on a platter. Her request was granted, and John was beheaded.
    I remember questioning Jehovah at the time, wondering how he allowed such wickedness not only in this world but in positions of Jewish leadership. But then I was reminded that the Lord God Jehovah does not control the will of man. And the will of man, much of the time, seems determined