Beverly and I love being at this point in our lives. As we walk or drive together, we find ourselves sharing memories of raising our children. Many of those memories are wonderful. A few of them, however, still give us chills. Like the time we lost Jenny, and found her floating face-down in the lake. Or the time we were at Tino's Restaurant and lost track of Josh. We ended up calling the police. I was freaking out. Praise the Lord, those stories had happy endings. Jonathan, thanks for not following in your siblings' footsteps.
So, there's Mary and Joseph -- leaving Jerusalem after Passover to return to Nazareth. They think Jesus is off playing with the siblings and cousins. After a day, they begin to worry. Where is he? So, they head back to Jerusalem -- and look for him for three days! Can you imagine how frantic they must have been? Probably as frantic as I felt when I found Josh that night -- calml watching a high school basketball game. "Do you know how worried you mother and I were?" "What, Dad? I wasn't doing anything." Grrrrrrr.
Mary finds Jesus in the Temple and tells him how worried she and Joseph were. Jesus' response? "Why are you searching for me?" (Hello! Because you are only 12 years old, and you're our son!) "You knew where you could find me. I had to be in my Father's house."
Then it says that Mary "treasured all these things in her heart." Can you imagine year later, as she sat around talking with Joseph and their other kids? "Hey, remember the time we went to Jerusalem, and on the way home we couldn't find Jesus?" Wow! What a story! And what an ending.