The women of Jerusalem, and their
children, come out to comfort and thank him. They had seen his compassion
and welcomed his words of healing and freedom. He had broken all kinds of
social and religious conventions to connect with them. Now they are here to
support him. He feels their grief. He suffers, knowing he can't remain to
help them more in this life. He knows the mystery of facing the separation
of death.
I look at their faces. So full
of love and gratitude, loss and fear. I contemplate what words might have
passed between them. I remember all his tender, compassionate, merciful love
for me. I place myself with these women and children to support him. This
is for me. So, I let this scene stir up deep gratitude.
