In May of this year, (2006) The Voice began a monthly series of articles designed to give Lay people the opportunity to write about the kind of spirituality that worked for them, how they had discovered it and how it had affected their lives. The response has been heartfelt and rewarding. Now in this season of Advent, we offer our readers a variation on the theme. The following meditation has been written by Mrs Pauline Wilkinson of Warton near Carnforth, whose usual place of worship is the Monastery of Our Lady of Hyning.

MARY - ONE WHO WAITS
A meditation for Advent and Christmas

Do you have someone in your life who is a disappointment to you? Perhaps a parent, relative, spouse, child, friend, colleague - someone who lets you down, often? Someone on whom, perhaps, for long years, you have shown love and attention; shown forbearance; forgiven many times as best you could; struggled to understand only to receive little or nothing in return - except further heartache? Maybe you know in your heart of hearts that you have been used, conned, manipulated or that your best efforts have been misconstrued; the love you feel you have to offer has been rejected. Have you ever tried to shake yourself free of such a relationship, lost patience, felt guilty, angry with yourself and with the other for such an impasse and yet find yourself unable to turn away? Something binds you to them - be it love or a sense of duty - or both? Do you feel it is a path of special suffering that you tread ... alone ... on and on ... ?

Then courage! There is one who has walked this way before you and who knows every movement of your aching heart.

Consider, for a moment, Mary - the mother of Jesus, the man. Erase from your mind's eye all images of a plaster statue - of a "lady" - a "Goddess" almost, in blue and white. ethereal, utterly composed, detached, remote ... See, instead, the sturdy body of a Jewish woman. Her clothes are those of a peasant. She has known a lifetime of hard physical work in serving the needs of her family. She is a home-maker.

She sits at the door of her house, gazing out along the road. She is waiting ... She is very still. Her eyes never waver from the bend in the road where her son might appear on his way home to her ... He does not come ... She shivers a little in the cold night air and pulls her shawl closer round her shoulders. Darkness falls ... Another day draws to a close ... He will not come now ...

One wonders how often the mother kept this silent vigil? What thoughts flickered in and out of her mind? Her face betrays nothing. The eyes are steadfast, the head erect, the face serene; there is even a hint of a smile playing around her mouth.

Such patience has been born of years of waiting, of inner perplexity, of doubts, fears, worries and questioning about this boy, beginning with his birth.

He had been such a good boy; they had laughed together, talked, walked together of an evening ... he liked to tease her ... But then everything had changed - almost overnight! He was away - gone with his friends, bent on some "mission" in which she played no part. He sent no message, made no contact, was busy living his own life. Word of him sometimes came to her through friends and neighbours. There were rumours of him healing people of their sickness, of crowds flocking to hear him speak! He seemed to attract people to him ... Some said he was a prophet - others were not so sure ... Why, there was even a day when news came to her that he was preaching in the next village - just the other end of the valley! Her heart had lifted in eager anticipation! "Surely, surely this night he will find time to come home to me." But no ... Concerned neighbours and some of his own followers persuaded her once to accompany them to hear him speak - but she was hemmed in by the dense crowd of onlookers. Even a message sent up to him failed to evoke any response. He seemed preoccupied, distant, busy ... beyond her reach. Their looks of pity directed at her hurt! She had turned away, Came back home feeling bewildered, rejected, angry at his apparent indifference to her love for him.

She was not to know that her longing for him would be prolonged; that in the short time that was left to him she would not be granted any moment of sweet reconciliation. He was bent upon what he saw as his task and time was running out. The only time she would cradle him in her arms again would be after she had watched him die ... die a hideous death on a cross, branded a failure, an outcast - his end adding shame and humiliation to a heart which was already crushed.

Mary, this Jewish mother of sorrows, is able to enter into your particular heartache. She stands by your side. She understands. Her message to you is quite simple... "Wait... Wait on the Lord. He will come to restore, to bind up your wounds, to fill the emptiness and to redeem. Learn only TRUST ... learn it anew every day - for when there is trust in God the human spirit, moved and inspired by the action of Divine Grace, is capable of transcending rejection, pain, loneliness, regret."

Her words to you ring true. After all, having survived the devastation of the Crucifixion of her son, she lived to see the Resurrection! Rejoice.