MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB…it’s fleece as white as snow

by johnedoe

MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB, it’s fleece was white as snow,…and everywhere that Mary went,…the Lamb was sure to go…

You know,…when I was a little boy who had just begun going to grade school, I, along with all the other kids,…were taught, by those who were deemed as our teachers, what are commonly referred to as nursery rhymes. Maybe it was just that I had no interest at all in learning and memorizing any of these “witty”,…whatever they are, things,…but I did anyway…though I have no idea why. Now, years later, as an adult,…to me, most of them were nonsensical. I saw them, for the most part, as a waste of my time. Until this moment, that is…

Have you ever really thought, and I mean really truly and in depth, thought about the relationship between a loving mother and her son? Does my question seem to be a bit odd? I think it is, in all honesty,…and this statement is coming from my mind, and out of my mouth, directly after I asked you this question.

If you are even a bit like me,…I would say, “probably not.” I mean, at least not more than the next “Average Joe” would give this, my question any thought, in what could be seen, as an extremely over thinking kind of way.

“He will never leave us or forsake us”,…He loved his momma. In fact,…Jesus Himself,…“chose” Mary,…to be His fleshly mother. In the middle of His excruciating death,…while on the cross,…badly beaten, bruised, eyes swelling shut,…his facial features distorted to the point of which His own friends would not even recognize Him,…having been seriously flogged by well trained roman soldiers, using a whip known as a cat of nine tails, which it’s design of purpose was solely to torture, as painfully as possible, yet without killing…here now, His veins severed, intestines exposed,…most of His body cut and sliced,…ripped open,…the long and sharp thorns from the crown which was made and placed forcefully, and mockingly, upon and around his head, ripped at his ears as well…even more thorns piercing through the thin flesh of his head, some even penetrating His skull. With most of the blood having drained from His body,…His, near completely broken heart,…still beating, yet faithfully, but with great difficulty…and while exhausted and thirsty,…other than for His own blood,…His mouth was totally dry,…lungs burning,…and due to the nine inch long nails which were driven through and between the bones which connect His wrists to His arms, which were as wide spread as humanly possible by the roman soldiers, using extreme force to do so, searing pain form torn nerves….then when His cross was stood upright, raising Him up as it is slid into the open and awaiting sepulcher…force of it’s impact at the bottom of the stone hole, sending a violent shock and jolt through His body,…both of his arms then completely pulled from their sockets at His shoulders,…His chest muscles constricting His lungs, thus forcing His suffocation. The cold earth’s constant gravity pulling against Him, as well as the weight of the world’s sins which He carried,…and pulling him down…as his feet, which were nailed to the support block on which they rested,…moved slightly up and down, in an attempt to support the weight of his body,…with His labored breathing, the holes from the nails which had been driven into, and through them,…elongating, more with each breath,…while lonely,…and stripped completely naked, in an attempt to humiliate Him even more than He already had been,…which would to me, appear to be near impossible to do. Offered vinegar to drink to quench His thirst, which He did not swallow,…the vinegar burning His open wounds of His face, neck, and chest,…then on down the length of his body to his feet. Insult to injury. Spit on. Mocked by a truly guilty condemned man, who was being crucified next to His right hand side…”while”, He was being asked for forgiveness from the other guilty and condemned man, who was hung to His left…the voices of the crowd mocked Him even more,…and all voices speaking lies…unceasing pain, increasing pain…yet, He remained conscious. He had a purpose. He knew that he must fulfill his purpose,…at all costs. All that was being inflicted upon Him in this moment was totally expected and awaited for from His earliest memories of childhood,…the way in which He was to die, and was even now dying, with all it’s viciousness, and almost inhuman sick and twisted cruelty, was no surprise at all to him,…as the way that He was to die,…as well as the reason for his murder, which was committed by His own people. The chosen people who He came to save,…as their foretold and prophesied messiah. The King of Kings, and the Lord of Lords. The True and only born Son of the great and living God of the Hebrew nation…was simply and undeniably what He knew must be done, yet He did not run from His destiny. The destiny that He Himself had planned for himself from the dawn of time…the alpha and the omega,…nailed to an old wooden cross. A wooden cross which was made by human hands,…in a carpenter shop…. Instead, He walked among us all, Godly, as well as ungodly, alike…giving to us, teaching us, and showing us all,…the true Love of God. all of His life, that He was born for. This is love. This is Godly sacrifice…He is Godly sacrifice…the Perfect sacrifice…“Thy will must be done”… But, with all of the pain, and burdens upon Him,…there was also,…one last thing that was extremely important to Him, that must be done as well, before He told His father, “into your hands I commend my spirit.” saying, “daddy,…I’m coming home” … Jesus spoke to young John, His loving disciple, was as the very base of the cross with Mary, Jesus’ mother. His hand picked birth mother, who was now, through tear filled eyes, with her heart also breaking, a mother’s love watching Her loving and innocent Son, so badly beaten and bleeding,…dying brutally upon on a cross,…being, “about His father’s business”…Jesus told his best friend,…“John,…take care of my momma.”

Mary had a little lamb………….john e doe


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