Mary—Elderly Woman (Light of my life, Light of the World)

I’m old now. I find that somewhat surprising; I wasn’t sure I’d survive Jesus’ death. The grief bent me double, and I thought I would never stop crying. “How does a body create so many tears?” I wondered. It just seemed like I’d shrivel up and blow away.

Since Jesus died, John has taken such good care of me; he has been like a true son to me. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of Jesus, my firstborn. He was and still is the light of my life. My vision has dimmed over the years, but He gives light to my heart and thoughts. He is, after all, as He said, the Light of the World.

He was the light of my life even before He was born. The Angel that told me about Him was so bright, completely illuminating my room. During the days of my pregnancy—and my concern that Joseph would divorce me—I thought back on that light and it reassured me that everything happening to me was from God.

On the night Jesus was born, there was a star, the brightest star I’d ever seen. It was like a pure beam that told me God was watching over us.

That star was a symbol of Jesus, the Light of the World. He would draw so many people to Himself during His life. First, the shepherds. The brightness of God’s glory had shone on them out in the field when God sent an angel to tell them about Jesus. The star guided the shepherds from the field to the dark and smelly stable. They told us the message of peace and goodwill toward men; the message that was wrapped up in Jesus.

The star directed the wise men on their long journey to visit us. Jesus was two or three years old by the time they actually found us. They brought gifts that seemed strange for a child; gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Spices used for burial? It was as if a shadow dimmed the light for a moment. I stored the memory, for that was my habit.

It was years later when Jesus said to the crowd, “I am the Light of the World. He who follows Me will not be walking in the dark, but will have the Light which is Life.” I’m not sure everyone understood it; the Pharisees told Him that His testimony of being Light was worthless! That it wasn’t valid!

I knew it was true that Jesus was the Light of the World because I saw it. He gave light to people who needed physical healing. He restored sight to the blind. He healed paralytics and lepers. He raised people from death itself. I remember the look of wonder on the faces of the people who saw for the very first time. I picture the jumping—dancing—whirling—and running of those who hadn’t been able to move. And unless you’ve seen it yourself, you can’t imagine the color and breath returning to those who lay still in death; or know the sound of joyous shouts replacing wails of mourning.

Jesus didn’t only give physical light. He gave it spiritually. He lit the way to the Father by the way He lived. People who looked at Him could see God—their blinders were removed! He illuminated truth, forgave sins, and removed spiritual chains.

Jesus. Light of my life. Light of the World. My Jesus.