"at times you'll lose your faith in me..."

"You will lose
your baby teeth,
At times, you'll lose your faith in me.
You may lose a lot of things,
but you cannot lose Her love..."

As you probably noticed, I took lyrical liberty with Sara Groves'  "You Cannot Lose My Love"  in the epigraph above. God's love - and all that goes with it - is the one thing I am certain that we can never lose.

Being mom is not easy. There is absolutely no way to know how to do it -- until you are doing it. I am the oldest of eight children. I was the big sister. I helped my parents raise my younger siblings from the time I was old enough to hold my sister's hand as we crossed the street. I learned how to make Cream of Wheat for eight people, by the time I was ten. I could change a diaper at six, and keep toddlers entertained for hours by before I was eight. But I was not prepared for motherhood.

Motherhood is not about tasks and responsibilities.  It just includes a lot of them.  Motherhood is about surrendering everything for another person's needs, wants, hopes and dreams.

Motherhood is the most intimate relationship I have ever been in -- and I never saw the depth of it coming. From the moment my daughters were in my arms, I ceased to have a body of my own. There was not a square inch of my being that they didn't have access to. I no longer had the freedom to disappear into my own little world. Every penny I made, was for them -- first. Every choice I faced, went through the filter of what was best for them. Every decision was colored by how it would effect them. And believe it our not, it all gives me such joy.

But it has also made me very sad at times. I have made mistakes. Considerable ones. I know I have disappointed them, and myself. But I can honestly say that each time, I was doing the best I knew how with the information and experiences that I'd had to date. Every mother does. Of this I am most sure. We are all just showing up each day wondering if our words will help, confuse, humiliate, or inspire. We pray that we will make the right choice. We wonder if this will be the day that we will finally feel like we are doing it right.

And that is the one common denominator in my every day -- prayer. I pray each day that I won't let our children down. That I won't do or say something that makes them lose their faith in the reliability of my love for them. But I don't always succeed. So here is what I know. It's not about me -- or my ability to always do it all right.

It's about God -- the one Mother that will never let them down. All I can do is model a radical trust in Her. All I can do is be an example of what it means to pray, do my best, perhaps fail -- and if so, seek her mercy, because She is merciful.

They may fail as parents. They may not always make the decisions that will make their own children happy. But if I can show them that even in the midst of our failures we are still loved, we can still hope, and that we are capable of persevering in our desire to do right by our children -- then, I will have succeeded in turning them towards a Mother-figure who will always be there for them.

There was a point in my life when I felt that I had failed them terribly. I wrestled mightily with self-doubt and regret. Had I made the right decision? Did I even deserve to be their mother? Would this "chapter" in our lives leave them doubting the wisdom in trusting God?

And then I thought about all the examples of motherhood that I most admired. These were not perfect humans. They were persistent examples of turning to God, models of forgiveness, and humble mentors of grace.

Today, I am moved by all the ways that divine Love is parenting us all -- as parents. To know God as Love, is my one goal. When I know how God loves, I will know how to love others more consistently. When I have failed, God has always loved me forward out of the pit of self-doubt and despair. It is this kind of love - in the midst of my human failings - that has taught me most about the love that uplifts, transforms, and heals. And it is this Love that never fails.

My children may lose their faith in me. But my prayer is that they never lose their faith in God. Her love will never leave them. Her love will never fail them.

offered with Love,

Kate

"Soft as the heart of a moonbeam..."

"The night falls, silence.
The darkness breathes quietly.
Just the moon will be awake.
It will cover us in silver.
It will shine from the great sky.
Just the moon will be awake...
The moon of the night,
will sweetly protect us..."

This post is sparked by the concresence of two little bits of ephemera that floated into my world today.  One is this clip of Sarah Brightman singing "La Luna" (I have shared the English translation of the first verse, and chorus, above).

And the other was a quote from Alice Walker's mother "Amma," that my friend, Heather, knew that I would love.  She was kind enough to post it on my Facebook wall, it reads:

"To a woman, in whom the state of true motherhood
has awakened, all creatures are her children. 
This love, this motherhood,
is Divine Love  --  and that is God."

Mary Baker Eddy, has much to say about the motherhood of God, divine Love.  But for some reason, this quote touched me deeply today.  And even thoough, on the surface, this quote and "La Luna," may seem like unlikely co-conspirators...for me, they worked hand-in-hand.

I have been thinking about true motherhood, a lot, lately. I trust God's mothering of my children...all children...so completely.  And yet, I often wonder how, and where, I fit in.  How can I do it most right?  Should I be doing something more, something different?  Should I be trying harder?

But this afternoon, as I sat looking at Amma's quote on my computer screen, while listening to Sarah's "La Luna," I got a clearer sense of my role than ever before. 

Bear with me...

The moon has absolutely no light of its own.  I radiates no energy, luminance, or warmth.  It shines only by reflecting the light of the sun. 

I know, there is nothing particularly profound about this realization...and its relation to motherhood...at least not intellectually, but something shifted for me today in a more visceral way.  I could actually feel the hot urgency...the desire to be better radiating my own mother-light...just seeping out of me.   I felt peaceful.  It wasn't a coolness of heart, but a coolness of trust in the presence of a greater light than I could ever even hope to transmit...so why try. 

I could suddely see that Mother-love is not some light, or energy, that I radiate.  Mother-love, in all its forms, is only, ever, the reflection of God...the one and only source of Love. 

Like I said, not so earth-shattering a realization for most of you, but for me...well, trust me, it was paradigm shifting.

I could actually feel a deep, cooling peace wash through me.  I saw, for the first time, that I don't need to be a great mother, or even a good mother.   I don't need to be someone who is so attentive to her children's lives that she never misses a beat.   Even if I wanted to be...which trust me,  I have...I can't.  It's not my role.  

The best I can do is turn my life, my face, my heart in the direction of God.  And the more I am turned towards God, the more light I will reflect.  This light, that has its source in God...the one Light...will help to brighten the path anyone I am blessed to be in the company of..not just my children.   And by divine reciprocity, their light blesses and illumines my path. 

This is the mother-love that radiates upon "all creatures as her children" and because it knows that it cannot make itself more warm, bright, or luminous; that it cannot choose who to shine on, or when to shine...it is at rest.  It is poised and peaceful, it is not heated, overwrought, or impassioned, but calm and thoughtful.  It is sweet with clarity of purpose. 

Keeping my face turned towards God, the source of all light...instead of looking at my children to see if they are happy with me, at other moms to see how I compare, or even at myself to see if I like what is staring back in the mom-mirror...I reflect the clearest, purest light there is.  But if I am looking at others...well, I'm as dim as dust.

As I sat, humbly pondering this illustration, a statement from Mary Baker Eddy's autobiography, Retrospection and Introspection, came to mind:

"Into mortal mind's material obliquity I gazed, and stood abashed.
Blanched was the cheek of pride.
My heart bent low before the omnipotence of Spirit,
and a tint of humility, soft as the heart of a moonbeam,
mantled the earth." 

I felt like my understanding of this woman..whose love for the office of "mother" was so central to her words and works...had come into greater focus.   She had discovered the peace of bending low before the omnipotent of Sprit with a true mother's humility. 

This lunar illustration of mother-love may seem a bit simplistic...but, for me, the simpler, the better. 

may you feel the coolness of Her moonbeam fingertips tonight...

with Love,

Kate
Kate Robertson, CS