The Ingle family: Courtney, Taylor Scott, Jeremy and Jacob Leon


     If you’re a biological mother, then at some point you’ve spent nine months feeling the impact of a child growing in your womb. You’ve felt little twists and kicks, soreness, nausea, anticipation, fear, and elation until the day finally comes. You’ve labored, you’ve sweated, you’ve screamed, you’ve cried, you’ve pushed (and pushed), and maybe even had a risky surgery … all of it just to get it baby here.   


     Then day by day, you watched little smiles, saw teeth push through, witnessed first steps, experienced feeding woes, barely functioned through sleeping woes, cherished first times, and maybe even celebrated some of the last times. (That last pack of diapers? Can I get an amen?) 


     Your little baby started growing, learning, and developing their own sense of humor. You learned how to make them laugh, what their little idiosyncrasies were, and what comforted them after a scraped knee. It seemed no time passed at all before they started saying things like “When I grow up,” or “When I’m big …” 


     In this Easter season, I can’t help but think of what Mary must have felt. With every shaky first step that her baby son Jesus took, He was one step closer to the cross. When other teenagers were spending their free time in the markets or with friends, Jesus was found in the temple doing His Father’s business. Surely, she was proud. Surely, she was filled with dread … after all, she was human, no matter how strong her faith was. 

Faith is tested. Surely she felt tested as she watched her Son be mocked, spit upon, whipped, crowned with thorns, and nailed to a rugged cross. There’s no doubt in my mind that when Jesus took His last breath, Mary felt it. When His body was wrapped and sealed in that tomb, surely a piece of her was wrapped and sealed along with it. Undoubtedly, the horrors of watching her Son bleed and die woke her at night … even if she knew why He had to experience it all. 


     So at Easter, we as mothers — whether we gave birth, adopted, fostered, or gained children through marriage — surely we have just a small portion of understanding of the love and faith it had to take for Mary to say “yes” to the angel that day. Every morning, just as we say yes to getting up and caring for our kids, Mary had to get up and care not only for her Son, but for the Savior of the world. 


     Does your heart not break when you think of the cross through the eyes of a mother? We as mothers know that our children, whether they are 2 weeks, 2 years, or 62 years old — they’re still our babies. 


     Here’s another perspective. We want our kids to dream big, right? We want them to live in that childlike innocence for as long as they can. We want them to set their sights on being astronauts, doctors, preachers or teachers (or even one of the members of Paw Patrol) because that’s what gets them excited; plus it is adorable to hear their little dreams, right? But can you imagine a child, 10 years old, telling you that when they grow up, they’ll be the Savior of the world? That they’ll have to die? 


     Do you think Jesus had to grow into that understanding? 


     This is what mothers should keep in mind this Easter season. Remember the practicality of the sacrifice of Christ — and it’ll give you a deeper appreciation to cleave to when you think of the Cross. 


     BUT, don’t stay there in that somber reflection. Rejoice! This pain is not the end. Death was defeated! The King is alive! And because of it, we are all adopted into the family of Christ. 


Courtney Ingle and her husband, Jeremy, live in Crossgates in Brandon. They have a daughter, Taylor Scott, who is 4 years old, and a son, Jacob Leon, who is 6 months old. Courtney is a stay-at-home mom and homemaker and can be emailed at