mothering

“You got your girl!” my husband exclaimed.

Wrapped up in the frenzy of labor, I had all but forgotten that the baby I was going to deliver (hopefully sooner rather than later) even had a gender. Despite having 25 hours of labor, I was so exhilarated with having accomplished the feat of bringing this baby to the outside of my body that I felt like I could have run a marathon. It was a surreal moment, time outside of time. I will never forget this sacred moment of birthing a daughter.

“There should be a song for women to sing at this moment, or a prayer to recite. But perhaps there is none because there are no words strong enough to name that moment. Like every mother since the first mother, I was overcome and bereft, elated and ravaged. I had crossed over from girlhood. I beheld myself as an infant in my mother’s arms, and caught a glimpse of my own death. I wept without knowing whether I rejoiced or mourned.”—Anita Diamant, The Red Tent

That baby girl, Jessica Morgan, will be 32 years old in July, and I am still singing a song of elation. Certainly, the adult Jessica years are different from the first words, first steps, kindergarten-to-teenager-in-the-blink-of-an-eye years, but her becoming is still beautiful to behold, no matter her age.

It has been ten years since she graduated from college and moved out of state—from Nebraska to Washington, D.C., and then to Madison, Wisconsin, for graduate school. There, she fell in love with John, got married, and gave us a kind-hearted, hilarious, intelligent, perfect-for-our-family son-in-law. It has been a joy to watch her grow in her marriage and career as a health care policy advisor.

There are years when Jessica and I cannot spend Mother’s Day together, but it matters little. Most days, we talk or text, and truly, it feels like every day is Mother’s Day, no matter where the other is. But Mother’s Day is always an opportunity to reflect on her growing-up years.

When Jessica was just a toddler, I created a bedtime prayer that I blessed her with each night. Some nights, in a hurry, it was shortened to “God bless Jessica’s mind, body, and spirit. Amen.” Still, it remains my prayer for Jessica as she continues to become, giving birth to herself over and over again, becoming more herself.

God bless Jessica’s mind so that she makes good decisions and choices.

God bless Jessica’s body so that she grows strong and healthy and safe.

God bless Jessica’s spirit so that she knows the love of God and others. Amen.”

(from Jessica Becoming)

Jessica becoming — Jessica Becoming, a special card for all the phases of Jessica’s life through high school, 2012.

There is nothing that could make my Mother’s Day any happier than knowing that my prayers have been, and are being, answered. Jessica has made good decisions; she is strong and healthy, and she knows the love of God and of others. She is becoming.

A Mother’s Blessing SoulCollage I created when Jessica graduated from college in 2016.

“Blessing Jessica, as my grown-up child, is a journey of becoming comfortable with the uncertainty and the many possibilities for her future, letting go slowly, surely, courageously. The blessing card is as much a reminder for me as it is for Jessica.” (from A Mother’s Blessing)

That sacred moment of birth continues into all the moments of becoming. This is all a mother desires—to know that her child is happy, at peace, learning, growing, working hard, loving well, and always becoming.

I journey with Jessica in her becoming. As she grows, I grow. It makes every day a Happy Mother’s Day.

Mother Mary finds her way into many of my collage creations, but it is the story and image of Our Lady of Guadalupe that I am especially drawn to. On December 12, the feast day of our Lady of Guadalupe is celebrated.

“Am I not here, I, who am your Mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not the source of your joy? Are you not in the hollow of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms? Do you need anything more? Let nothing else worry you, disturb you.”
Our Lady of Guadalupe to St. Juan Diego on Mount Tepayac, 1531

On the site of an ancient shrine to the Aztec mother goddess, near Mexico City on Tepeyac Hill, a young Christian Indian named Juan Diego had a vision of a young Indian woman. Speaking in his native tongue, she directed him to tell the bishop to construct a church on the hill. The bishop dismissed the story, but the young maiden appeared yet again to Diego identifying herself as the Mother of God. She instructed him to gather roses that grew at her feet, during the winter no less, and take them to the bishop. When Diego opened his coat, a colorful impression of Our Lady, with dark skin, was imprinted on the fabric.

This story has been told for five hundred years, standing as an “image of divine compassion for a demoralized people. Speaking to Juan Diego in his own language, she presented herself in terms of compassion and solidarity, not power and domination.” (Blessed Among Us, December 12, 2020) The image of Our Lady attracts millions of pilgrims each year at the basilica in Mexico City, one of the world’s most visited sacred sights.

Recently I gathered with some friends for a much-needed retreat, a “pause between labor contractions”—a metaphor that resonated with us. In such troubling times, we came together to be creative, soulful, compassionate listeners—to take, literally and prayerfully, a breath from the labor of a divisive political environment and necessary pandemic adjustments. Jana, Deb, Patsy, Sara, Julie, and I brought open hearts to celebrate a weekend filled with blessings—a full moon, the beauty of the woods, the insightful practice of SoulCollage® and the celebration of All Saints Day.