The reading for today is John 16:20-23, Jesus said to his disciples:
“Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices;
you will grieve, but your grief will become joy. When a woman is in labor, she
is in anguish because her hour has arrived; but when she has given birth to a
child, she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy that a child has
been born into the world . . .”
Have you ever noticed after
spending an hour of meditation with Jesus that everything becomes sharper in
focus? Like it was outlined in black? That’s how this morning has been for me.
We have a bird in the kitchen that chirps when the first rays of sun come
pouring in through the window. This morning I heard him. He chattered non-stop while
I prepared the coffee. Is he always this cheerful in the morning, I asked
myself? With steaming cup of coffee in hand, I headed back to my bedroom
retreat. I stopped long enough to peer through the skinny glass window that
lines the front door. I had been eagerly watching for the newly planted grass
to cut through the pale brown sand that has been our front yard for the past
four years. Excitedly, I noted shoots of green, glistening in the morning sun.
My gaze soon focused beyond the yard and into the drive. My son’s girlfriend had
been sitting there in her car waiting for my son to come out. She noticed the
family dog, Hank, sitting on the porch looking expectantly at her, so she got
out and greeted him. He lapped up the attention she gave him while at the same
time, my son, who came bounding out of his room, gave me a hug and I lapped up
the attention too. As I watched the two teenagers greet each other with happy
smiles and drive away, I felt a small hole pierce my heart that within seconds
tore into a huge gaping hole. I was caught suddenly by a memory, outlined in
black, of my mother standing at her kitchen window with her steaming cup of
coffee in hand, watching as each of her children gathered their things and went
off to find their way in the world that day. In the later years of her life, my
mother spent a good portion of her morning in a pink bathrobe that zipped from
her head to her feet. It had pockets that were full of wadded up, mostly used,
tissues. How like my mother I am, I thought, as I blinked back tears and looked
through the pockets of my robe for a tissue . . . and how unlike my mother I am
too, not finding a tissue when I needed it most. I wondered if my grandmother
and my grandmother’s mother used to stand at the door with their cups of coffee
and watch their children leave each morning. I wondered which of my daughters
would do the same thing I’m doing now . . .
Thank you, Jesus, for making each morning new for us. Thank you for
cheerful birds, tender green shoots of grass, fresh love, morning tears, and
your refreshing grace.
***I am active in women’s
ministry and I am keenly aware that with Mother’s Day approaching, many women will
see another Mother’s Day pass with their child still in prison. They need
constant encouragement, as they hardly know a day that finds peace in their
hearts. There is a longing for that child that can’t be quenched without graces
from Jesus. I beg each of you to pray for these mothers and constantly remind them
to see their complicated lives through the lens of heaven. In Volume One, July
19, 2003, Our Blessed Mother states: “I am a good example of trust, dear
children of the light. My time on earth was filled with times when a heavenly
perspective was necessary. If you view the world from a worldly perspective,
you will feel fear quite often; but heavenly perspective grants peace and
emotional security.
Thank you for this touching blog post, Mare! I look forward to more in the future! Love and hugs to you!
God bless,
Bonnie
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