Mary at the Cross by Loretta Miles Tollefson

Author:Loretta Miles Tollefson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: New Testament, Bible, Bible characters, poetry, Christian poetry, Christianity, Inspirational, Jesus, Mary Magdalene, St. Paul, St. Peter, St. Joseph, Mary
Publisher: LLT Press
Published: 2016-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

PETER’S MOTHER-IN-LAW

Now as he walked by the sea of Galilee, he saw Simon [Peter] and Andrew his brother casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And Jesus said unto them, Come ye after me, and I will make you to become fishers of men. And straightway they forsook their nets, and followed him. (Mark 1:16-18)

And when Jesus was come into Peter's house, he saw his wife's mother laid, and sick of a fever. And he touched her hand, and the fever left her: and she arose, and ministered unto them. (Matthew 8:14-15)

Peter’s Mother-in-Law

I have always been the proud one, unwilling

that any of mine should be found begging. When

it came time for me to go to my daughter’s

house I wept in my anger.

It is our custom, yet I

made sure her husband knew I earned my keep. He

earned his too, until the preacher came.

The longer he stayed away from his nets the tighter

my lips grew. Did he think we could live

on gifts from a mob? My cooking skills ceased when

he brought his friends home. I could

not serve beggars, and told

him so. My daughter would not speak to him. She

listened to the stories as well.

Flowers, the man called us. Lambs for a father

to care for. My mind wavered and I straightened

my back. In the end all we have is our own

hands to help us. But my age

had begun to grow heavy

upon me. My head ached and my knees would not

support even these thinnest of old bones.

They say that I cried out in my fever, called

for my dead husband, wept over bread which would

not rise, beat my hands against the dark air. All

I recall is the struggle

sharp in my bones, the fury

of fear, a long barren passage dusty with

hopelessness, and the slow quiet rocking at

the end. A deep breath of peace.

I felt like a young girl as I gave them their

food that afternoon, seasoned

as I do with the herbs only these old eyes

can find on the ditch banks.

The habit of fear may assail me again;

I do not know. But my mind

was calm as the morning sea as I watched them

depart this bright morning, my

son-in-law tall in the midst of them.

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