This is an excerpt from the epilogue of my book, shared in honor of the women whose lives have been transformed through the practice of motherhood. May this gift of words enlarge the beautiful vision of your most holy endeavor.
Happy Mother’s Day. ~Angela
Several years ago, Ben and I attended a wedding reception. In a gorgeous glass atrium flooded with light and flowers, the black-tuxedoed groom rose from his seat, waiting for his mother. She walked down the candlelit isle in the midst of the sound of clanking glasses and soft murmurs. The room grew silent as the son waited and the mother walked to meet him.
I wondered if she was thinking of that moment when she first felt the movement of his life within her, first saw his face, or of the wee mornings when he pattered into her room to snuggle with her. Perhaps she remembered all those rocks she had to take out of his pockets before doing the laundry, the first time he read aloud to her, or her delight when he discovered his interests and abilities. Maybe it was the years their relationship was tested through the fires of adolescence or when she noticed that he now had eyes for another woman. Was she remembering herself on her long prayer walks for him and times of listening to the Spirit about how to best partner with God in his growth? When did she know that because of his life her was so much richer?
God’s gift to her of a son was not just of having a child, but also of having more of Christ. Now, he stood as not only her son, but also her brother. She was probably not the same mother that she was all those years ago for she was a woman who had grown while he grew; and they both had been going from glory to glory. Those moments together on the dance floor as woman and mother, man and son, were more than mere sentiment. And the dance was to stand for more than a sweet photograph. They were a symbol of the movement of all the beliefs, all the practices, all the intentions that God has created for all of our spiritual and eternal transformations. The son led her out to the wooden dance floor, and they moved under the flickering silver ball to the crooning of “What a Wonderful World.”
I thought of my own two sons and all the times we have spun around together through the kitchen and into the living room. Their hands in mind, their legs wrapped around my hips, twirling, laughing and singing together. I thought of you, you women of the nations whom God is so passionate toward in his obsessive love.
You who have chosen to run into Water, all the truth about God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit will be your three-pronged crown. The enduring exquisite church, the esteeming love of Jesus, the reality of the unseen battle, the source of your significance–it will all be a part of your countenance. You will know what you believe, for you have devoted yourself to possessing revelation and understanding. Your immersion into Jesus resulted in your contemplative wonder, intercessory prayer, and the very rest of God. It will be evident that your body is the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit, your life being flamboyantly poured out to others because of how much you have been truly loved. You will be a woman who has kept short accounts and is acquainted well with not only lament and waiting but also forgiveness and mercy. Your days have been your worship, your wisdom surer than a fleeting horse, and your gratitude for all that is will be your defining feature. You will have lived out your beliefs with great courage and intellect. Your guilt is washed away, your imperfections irrelevant, your vision unwavering, and your hope of heaven sure. You will have been an intentional, intelligent, and heartfelt woman and mother, rejecting stagnancy. The generations to come, the very nations, will never be the same.
Yes, someday we might dance with our sons, our brothers, and stand beside our daughters, our sisters, who rise to meet the world before them. It will not at all be the end, but a new beginning as we all will still be running, running into Water. And one day, we will attend together the wedding we each have been preparing for for our whole lives…
My mom and I. Yes, I am really tall. Especially in heels.
One Reply to “For All the Mothers: An Excerpt.”
Beautiful imagery, Angela. Made me want to take all those precious moments with my kids captive…. ‘treasure them up in [my] heart’ as Mary did. Now, there is a small treasure for us mothers from Mary, hey? You know my theological struggles… but the rest of it… I love. Keep writing….