I wrote a story about twelve years ago that was called The Lost Prayer. It was about a prayer that I was searching for to pray for a healing for my son Allen who has Cerebral Palsy. I finally found the prayer; it was by St. Bridget and was about the wounds of Christ. Part of the journey to finding this prayer took place during Lent. I remember my son Sam who was twelve at the time reading about Palm Sunday from the bible. I also recollected spending three hours on my knees praying for various intentions on Good Friday.
As I prayed and meditated on the death, burial and resurrection of Christ. I thought about how betrayed Jesus must of felt when he asked his friends to keep watch for him and they fell asleep. Then how his friend Judas betrayed him for twenty pieces of silver and of all things a kiss. Something that is should have represented the love between friends & family. As a mother myself of three beloved son’s, I could sympathize with Mary as she stood at the foot of the cross gazing up at her son. I can almost hear her whisper his name through her tears, “Jesus.” That moment when his head dropped forward to his chest and he breathed his last breath and died. How her heart must have broken. Mary’s fear when she went to Jesus tomb and his body was not there. Then her joy when she found out that her son, Jesus had rose from the dead.
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