A Mother's Heart (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest blogger Wednesday :)

May is always an exciting month in our family.  With two birthdays (almost three since my youngest was born June 1), school nearing the end, opening our pool, and planting our gardens, our house is pretty lively.  Add a First Holy Communion and the start of summer soccer, and you have borderline chaos.  Often times, in the midst of all this, we forget to take time to honor the Lady of the Month….the Blessed Mother.  Truthfully, I have not always totally been able to relate to our Lady.  Respect her?  Absolutely!  Ask for her intercession?  You bet.J  Turn to her for interior advice?  Not so much.  You see, there were three obstacles to a more intimate relationship with Mary:  1.) She had only one child while I have seven. 2.)  Jesus was perfect.  How hard could that be? 3.)  Mary was immaculate, and I am far from that. 

Of course, anyone with a more mature devotion to our Lady would probably not struggle with these issues, but they were very real to me.  I continued to appreciate the rosary and was inspired by her fiat (her total submission to God’s will), but I just could not turn to her for guidance in my mothering.  We were just way too different.  Because of my love for my faith and my desire to grow, I did not allow myself to be satisfied with this “unrelatable relationship.” Through prayer, conversations with friends, the wisdom of my spiritual director, and reading Pope John Paul’s encyclical on Mary, I slowly began to open my eyes to the real Blessed Mother.  Even though she had only one perfect child, she could certainly understand the pangs of a mother’s heart:  the worry, the sadness, the anger at His persecutors. 

While Mary did not succumb to temptation, she surely felt similar frustrations, exhaustion, and sufferings.  Just as I feel insecure in my parenting, she surely must have had doubts in raising the Son of God.  Most importantly, I began to see that even if she could not relate to my exact emotion or struggle at the time, she could still be compassionate and wise in her response to me.  Just the other day, I was speaking with a friend who is having some problems.  I do not have the same problems, but I listened attentively to her, offered her comfort and support and am praying for her situation.  Other times, I am able to commiserate with a struggling friend because we share similar burdens. 

Mary, as the Immaculate Mother of God, does a much better job than I do.   And she understands more than I know.  I forget that she was a young teen becoming pregnant out of wedlock.  She had to give birth in a stable with only Joseph as her support instead of in the comfort of her home surrounded by friends and family.  She had to flee to a foreign land to protect her newborn.  Very real situations.  Very challenging.  To think I felt like she could not understand me!  The real problem was that I just did not really understand her.  Mary, Queen of Mothers, pray for us!

Live It:  Let’s pray a daily decade of the rosary or even a whole rosary throughout the month of May. 

"Pace Yourself"

  Recently, I thanked a friend for her support during my painfully slow progress with posting~ I'm working on getting more regular (just don't go back and review post dates...).  She responded with more encouragement.  She reminded me that we are all busy during this holiday season.  "Sus,"  she said, "celebrate what you have accomplished and pace yourself- you'll get there."  It was nice to have a voice of reason soothing my temptation to beat myself up and offering encouragement to keep plodding along.

 I began to apply this logic to where I was in this very holy season.  I had launched myself and household into garlands and twinkle lights at supersonic warp speed.  It proved to be a "warped" speed because I had led a frenzied pace to decorate the entire house, familiarize myself with most Christmas tunes, and urge the kids toward being on the "NICE" list all before December 1st.  Indeed, this was a first for me.  I grew up in a home where the Church's Advent calendar led the season.  We lit the advent candles and did a daily spiritual reflection at dinner time.  My Mom was adamant in having us wait until the very eve of Christmas to decorate the tree.  I'm sure there is a happy medium in all of this timing.  But I will say that my childhood tradition of "waiting" certainly built the anticipation to a near fevered pitch for us kids.  We were also building a true understanding of Christmas and the Reason we were celebrating. I began to realize the wisdom in the advice to Pace Myself.  True, Christ had already been born 2011 years ago.  This wasn't a true birthday celebration.  Advent is technically about helping us ready ourselves in preparation for the second coming of Christ.  It was not a bad thing to place baby Jesus in the manger early in the season~ it was a nice reminder of how He came as a vulnerable child.  Yet, my preoccupation with "festivities" had felt a little hollow without remembering to work "on the inside" alongside decorating the outward appearances.  In doing so, I had nearly reached burnout prematurely and allowed the secular jingling bells to drown out the Silent Night. 

  I found healing and restoration in remembering the importance on pacing oneself...this season is a journey...Mary and Joseph certainly didn't reach Bethlehem on the donkey overnight.  It was with one step at a time. 

  Perhaps cliche, but always true, life is often about what happens while journeying that makes the destination hold significance.  Perhaps, this was true for St. Joseph.  Maybe it was in the quiet unseen parts of the journey on foot that he gave his greatest sacrifices- sharing his portion of food with the donkey so it could have the strength to continue carrying it's precious cargo.  Walking on foot so Mary could ride with a little more comfort.  Either way, it wasn't the speed with which they reached Bethlehem, that impresses us in stories to this day...it was the tremendous distance they traveled burdened as they were.  They reached Bethlehem and still found hardship in "No room at the Inn."  It was essential then as it is now... this concept of pacing oneself... we will get there...this life is not our home forever.