Something about motherhood feels sacred the Creator of the universe choosing to partner with humans bringing little pockets of light into the world So when does a mom become a mother? Is it when she gives birth or is it when she first carries that seed and her body begins to change? Or is it when she’s chasing those short legs running through life’s hallways as the same wind reverberates the same question in so many ways? At what point in time does she become a mother? Because what about the mothers who never got to see their reflection in those wondrous irises who never got to feel those tiny hands grab onto theirs? Their bodies did change but the seed just didn’t sprout the evidence that life once grew within her Where a woman would steward a seed then months later laboring here on earth is no small thing To the spiritual, adoptive, maternal mothers who gave us legs to stand you bear life a generosity-tendered garden “Be fruitful and multiply” was the command, and you chose to say yes Liminal spaces are no stranger to you waiting, becoming a mother slowly Your body transformed in nine months organs moving to make space space carved into a new creature a vessel fit to carry another human Birthing through pain humming to cries serenades of “I-I-I can’t help falling in love with you” Somehow, deep down your brain growing discerning which tears meant hunger, anger, or just poop Finally standing this child meets the world a sapling in a crooked world Your words and prayers etched on pages written in the chapters of their lives so they don’t depart from The Way When sleep escapes you, you still rise to feed tiny, always-hungry monsters preparing plates and worshiping an altar set in every room Knowing exactly how much to make or bake for today, for tomorrow and for everyone around the table “Wait! The taste is just not right” you say adding pinches of this and that no need to think or even measure it Running to your lavender-honey arms they always feel like home For what often goes unseen, for what happens behind the scenes for what you do day after day kneeling through trenches of love and sacrifice you said yes to those divine words formed in our human alphabet: “Be fruitful and multiply” Only our Creator could bless us with women like you And you you were already a mother before that seed germinated before giving birth For all that you have become all that you have written all that you have given thank you.
Heart Call:
This is for every mother. Soon to be mothers. Adoptive mothers.
If you raised and are raising children, thank you for who you are inside and outside your home. God’s hand on your life is so evident, especially the way you carry yourself with so much grace and truth.
How many lives does a mother touch?
xoxo,
Lynn :)
Photos Credits: Ben Masora.