Life-givers.

A Mother’s Day Reflection

 

She wakes gently, slowly, with the same peace that she fell into her sleep.  And I’m right there for her to stare into, and a smile breaks.  Fourteen weeks new and it’s like our souls have always known each other.  Our hearts are tied together in that beautiful hold only God can weave.  She makes that half whimper and I know her need in an instant and in moments she is being nourished.  

 

This is the gift of motherhood: that a mother can give life to her child.  All mothers.  Every day a chance to give life – to bodies, to souls, to growing minds, to wounds, to brokenness, to these precious hearts.  God made us mothers – life-givers, life-speakers – our love is filled with life.

 

And of course we know there are all kind of mothers, all kinds of life-givers.

 

There are mothers who hold life in their womb, where God sews and knits from nothing a perfect new soul.

 

Some of these mothers may not yet meet these beautiful ones until the new earth.  But they have held life all the same.

 

Some mothers birth life in their deepest pain and longest groan and in the beautiful paradox of this birthing find their deepest joy in one heavenly moment.

 

Some mothers nurse life at their breast or in their arms and watch and wonder as life grows so quickly before their eyes.

 

Some mothers find their children in holy stories of redemption, God putting things right by placing little ones into families.

 

Those women who encourage, those who comfort, those who speak life – mothers.  Those who nourish bodies and minds and souls – mothers.  Those women who know what it means to sacrifice, to lay life down so that new life can breathe – mothers.

 

On this day I think of my mothers.  And, oh, I am grateful!

 

First, the mother I call “Mom”, who has given life to me in every way.  From her body, from her heart, from her own life – she has given to me from every part of herself – and who would I be without her?  Now she also goes by Nana, and the life from her multiplies in these seven of mine who know her love for them without a doubt.

 

The Nana who gave life to my Mother and who loved so much life into me.  She showed me where Life came from, and even in her death held to life-giving Truth as the legacy she would leave.

 

The Grandmom who gave life to my Daddy and who echoes life in her laughter, spreads it in her hugs, beams it in her smiles.  Her joy exudes life.

 

The mother who gave life to the love of my life, who beautifully raised him to be the kind of man I couldn’t imagine life without, who loves me as a daughter and fully embraces all of these who call her Grammy.

 

And there are the many sister-mothers, women who have come along and breathed life into me all along the way, and women who I share the journey with today, who laugh about the tantrums with me and cry over the losses and aches with me and rejoice over the simple beauties of mothering with me.

 

God, giver of life, in your grace you have given so much life to me in the gift of these mothers.  Thank you is not enough.  

 

On this day I think of my children.

 

The seventy-some who I have mothered… some for days, some for weeks, some for months.  My heart is spread far and wide, for each of you holds a piece.  And I have seen the face of God in you.

 

The seven who call me Mommy today – my heart is overwhelmed, blessings overflow.

 

My oldest four…  You have adopted ME, and found room for my love in your hearts, even in the places of your scars.  The gift of mothering you is a life-giving well to me.

 

My three littles… God has spoken so much Hope and Truth and Joy to me through the miracles of your lives.

 

You shave known me in all my frailty, tasted the sharpness of my words, seen my ugliest shadows – and you call me Mommy anyway.

Yes, this is the gift of motherhood.  God takes a perfectly ordinary, broken woman, and through the most vulnerable places of herself, gives life to others.

 

Only you, Lord, could have thought up this miracle.  

 

 

 

 

Numbers.

Jesus had this funny way of answering questions with the real questions.  I rather like it.  A lot.  I’ll be the first to admit that I also like straight answers.  2 +2 =4, right?  Simple.  I can just get my straight answer and move on, because I have that problem figured out.

Oh, but what questions are really like that?  Simple and straightforward?  The more I engage in this story of following Jesus, the fewer the straightforward answers I find.  And I’m learning to like it.

You see, when most people are asked, “How many kids do you have?” they can reply without hesitation.  I mean, who really has to think about how many kids they have?  Well… I do.

What does this question even mean to this foster parent/guardian/bio mommy/heart mommy?

How many children have I been a mother to?  How many children have shaped who I am as a mother, taught me what the word means, filled my heart with the spirit of motherhood?  How many children have changed me forever – still in my heart, still in my prayers, still a part of me?

Sure, you can ask me how many children I’ve carried in my womb and were born from my body.  (Two, in case you’d like at least one straight-forward answer.)  You can even ask me how many children live in my home (though, at the rate that we’ve had children moving in and out these last four weeks, it might take me a moment).  And you can ask me how many children I’ve adopted.  And the answer to that one, “legally” of course,  is none.  But for this mama who will likely never be able to legally adopt her three daughters, that is not a very good question.

There are a few other questions of numbers that don’t do me much good either.  “What is my limit?”  “When will I be done?”  “How much time do I have for myself?”

Better questions…  How much love can I give to all of my children?  How much room can we make in our hearts and our home for more children?  How many times will the Lord bless us with the great honor and responsibility of caring for His children?   How will we allow God to write a beautiful story in and around and through this crazy family only He could think to put together?

May I dare to keep my thoughts on these questions.  For the answers to these are… well… eternally invaluable.

Oh, and there’s one more numbers question that people just get stumped over.  “Wait… how old is your oldest child?  And how old are you??”  … 28 minus 17 equals… huh?!…  Yep.  I’ll just leave you with that one to ponder over.