So, commercials on the internet are good for one thing: they remind me of Manufactured Major Holidays. And this current one is, of course, Mother’s Day.
(It’s also our wedding anniversary, which we planned to coincide because both myself and my Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal Fellow are woefully, miserably BAD at remembering significant days, and we thought we MIGHT have a shot at remembering the day we got married if the whole industrialized world were sending us reminders. This has worked. A few years, anyhow.)
Here’s what I want to say about Mothers and Motherhood:
Motherhood has absolutely nothing to do with a uterus, or the uses of a uterus.
The endowment of motherhood, the creation of a mother, happened ages ago, before the beginning of time, when our Creator formed our souls from the very starlight of the universe.
If we’re going to celebrate the eternal nature of a role of a mother’s heart, let’s celebrate it in full: let’s celebrate the stewardship of “mothering” that is our right and privilege.
Mothering happens in a myriad of ways, undertaken by women who are married, widowed, single; women who have and who have not borne children in their bodies. Motherhood is a stewardship given to every woman ever created, at the time of her soul’s birth.
I know women who work within that eternal role by being adoptive and step and foster parents, willing to take a child into their hearts forever, no matter how long they have together. Other women express their mothering heart by mentoring others (young and old) in any and every way.
Some mother through hospice and care homes, extending grace, humor, compassion, and humanity to those in the winding up days of their time here. They take under their wings those whose mothers have already gone on, in the moments when a human soul needs a mother the most.
Some mother as “church moms” or “church ladies”, making life gentle behind the scenes, and loving the whole community. Others mother the “unlovable” in shelters and slums, and the worst of conditions, and never flinch from the pain their mothering brings.
Some mother as midwives, as teachers, as soldiers–all standing to protect the vulnerable in whatever ways are needed.
Some women mother as legal advocates for children in the court systems who have no one looking out for their needs. Some mother by collecting needful goods to put into “rescue” bags for children entering that system, or trying to live on the streets.
Some women mother by fundraising for orphans and traumatized people; others work the phones to provide the loving, compassionate ear and a voice on the other end of the line, telling another soul that they matter, that the universe is better because they exist, and to not give up.
Some mother by helping with rescue animals and sustainable agriculture, extending their stewardship into everything around us, for the generations now present, and the generations to come.
A mothering heart loves the broken, rejoices with the unburdened, cries with the mournful, and binds up the weary hearts of others. A mothering heart is a gorgeous, gorgeous thing.
If a woman does anything to spread love, compassion, safety, warmth, kindness, goodness, health, longevity, comfort, justice, mercy, or betterment in the world, she is doing that under her mantle of Motherhood, given to her by God at the moment of her creation, inseparable from our Divine Mother–all our expressions of it would be familiar to Her, as they are to our Divine Father.
God bless all mothering hearts–for we are all made in the image of God’s love.