Mary, here I am, a bruised and wounded person, perhaps shunned or rejected by others. Frustration, anger, sorrow flood my soul. You invite me to stand by you, stand beneath the cross, stand as you help me carry my cross with the tenderness shown only by mothers.
Mary, Mother of Sorrows, my comfort, standing beneath the cross you grasped for any glimpse of hope as you watched and waited and loved—loved until the last breath of your Son. In that horrible moment when the sacred body of your beloved son was torn by nails and pain, the joy of your motherhood was dead. In that moment your faith may have been strong, but did your heart question, “Why? What is the meaning of all this?” When I feel alone and abandoned by God, when my dreams die and my heart is dismayed by betrayal, and all I can come up with is questions, the mysteries of your sorrowful heart give me hope. Mary, Comforter of the Sorrowing, comfort me. Amen.
Mary Mother of the Afflicted, you know well the long Holy Saturdays of life when the Love of your life was buried and the earth waited in restless wonderment for the dawn. Calvary was not the end of the suffering of your Son. Your motherhood continues in my own living out of Jesus’ passion. Stay with me, Mother, that I may surrender myself in truth to his mystery--a mystery you know so well. I place all my hope in Jesus. I place my hope in you. Amen.