The Unfathomable Sorrows of Our Lady

A reflection in preparation for the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows

Although we traditionally meditate on the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady, the true number of her sufferings is beyond estimation. Her grief is immeasurable and inconceivable.

Our Lady’s entire life, like that of her Son, was a continuous series of tribulations. Yet the week of His bitter Passion and death brought suffering unlike any other. It was as if all hell broke loose, unleashing hatred and fury upon Jesus. And she, His mother, felt every blow.

Every glance at her Son forced the sword deeper into her Immaculate Heart. Can we imagine that? I can’t picture a sword piercing her heart, but I do imagine holding a kitchen knife, cutting into a piece of meat—pressing harder, going deeper. Her sorrow was far greater and deeper.

Every sound of Jesus’s voice brought fresh bitterness. Every moment of His Passion intensified her love—and with it, her pain. She felt every scourge, every insult, every wound. Mystics have written about the Holy Wounds: His beard pulled, His head bashed repeatedly, shackled and kicked, pushed over bridges. And He suffered silently. Like a lamb led to the slaughter.

According to mystics, Jesus suffered 5,466 wounds during his passion, including the 5,461 from his scourging and the five wounds from the nails and the spear.

And every time He was struck, she felt it. Every time He was mocked, she felt it. Yet she did not complain. Not a word escaped her lips. Her grief was a violent one, but perfectly conformed to the will of God. She offered it generously—for the sins of the world.

How could a mother ‘offer’ her Son up?

It reminded me of a story from recent years. A family lost their daughter in a accident. She suffered an irreversible brain injury,—but the heart was still beating. She had signed up to be an organ donor when she was 16 years old. She was kept on life support until the doctors found a suitable recipient for her organs.

The heart was harvested and matched perfectly to someone many kilometres away. The transplant was successful. That person survived.

After he made a full recovery, he made the decision to cycled thousands of kilometres to meet the father of the donor. When he arrived, he placed a stethoscope on his chest and gently guided it to the parent’s ears, there it was, beating away, giving new life to someone else.

There were many tears.

When I saw that story, I thought of Our Lady. She wasn’t formally asked, but she wholly cooperated with God the Father. She gave her Son. Not just His heart—His entire body and blood, given for the world. For us.

We have hearts that beat. The Lord wills it. We breathe with our lungs. The Lord wills it. We may not need to cycle thousands of kilometres, but we can be grateful for every breath, every heartbeat.

We have been redeemed. We are given second chances—every single day.

Let us thank the Lord. Let us thank Our Lady, let us come with grateful hearts. Let us honour her sorrows and celebrate her feast day with reverence and love.

How has Our Lady’s sorrow touched your own walk with Christ? Leave a comment below—we’d love to hear how her sacrifice inspires your faith.