I believe that all of us are called to mother another.
We mother the world that shows up at our doorstep whether we call it mothering or not.
We mother whether we’re married or we’ve ever borne down in the battle cry of birth or not.
We mother because we’re called to it — this flinging a life preserver to a drowning sister, child, college student, teenager, grandmother with the soft wafer thin skin, or that kid who always shows up at your backdoor the second you’ve turned off the ignition.
We mother because we can’t not.
Because there are friends in the cubicle next to us who have been hurt and need a soft, safe place to come undone. We mother because we’ve watched our grandmas make slow, determined soup for the sick. We mother because the next door neighbor can’t change her tire in the blistering March wind and of course we call AAA for her and wait and shuffle feet and rub cold hands because she asked for help. Because, of course.
This is what we women do.
We give ourselves away — little bits and pieces of who we are, of our courage, of our deep faith even on the nights we’re the most afraid. We bear down and we find ways to bring life to people desperate for air.
These are the women who remember to keep naming their progeny — joy and determination and grit and evangelization and Psalms and prophecy and preaching all the time between the waves of all this life that sometimes we slip and call “ordinary.”
We mother and motherhood is its own mission field and no one is disqualified from serving.
Some days we might not have the faith to believe it.
But Jesus. He leans in and lives in between the women who mothered Him — supporting His ministry and His meals and testifying to His resurrection and His eternal life.
The mothers. Wrinkled bosoms and foreheads and hands wrung right out with wondering if they matter.
Right there in between everything else that is flitting like so much distraction come the words of life between the discouraged and the encourager, between the beaten and the Samaritan, between the hopeless and the lover.
“Woman, why are you weeping?”
And He charges us to go — to run — to take His Good News far and wide and beyond this arbitrary line of who has born a baby of her body instead of her words.
So we cradle it in our arms and we bring it to the generation who needs milk. These words dripping milk and honey.
We will believe with you and champion you and we will watch a generation raised up because of you.
Mothers, every one.
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Lisa-Jo, thank you for these powerful words and also for showing me that even though my own precious Mum has gone to meet her Heavenly Father in heaven that I am surrounded by mothers: by women who have shepherded me in my grief through the love of Christ that runs deep within them and overflows to meet me at every aching turn. Women who pray for me and my family, who message me to check up on me, whose hearts grieve AND rejoice with mine, who point me back to my Saviour when life overwhelms me. Thank you, Lisa-Jo: these words are so precious to me right now, barely a year after I had to let go of my Mum, as cancer swallowed more and more of her life here on earth (but not in heaven: praise God!!!!).
And BTW: thank you so much for writing your book. It was such a blanket of comfort just after my Mum passed away and I also ordered a copy for my sister as a baby shower gift (first baby and she lives on the other side of the world to me) and she told me it really touched her too.
Anna – so glad to know we can do life together even though we may never meet. That we can walk through the shared highs and lows and cheer for one another and pass the chocolate cake and a good book.Thank YOU for sharing this beautiful look into your own journey. So many warm wishes, Lisa-Jo
Such powerful words! Water for a thirsty heart.
So glad it could encourage, Debi.
Lisa-Jo,
I believe that when we embrace the mothering nature in ourselves we are seeing a unique side of God. Man and woman were made in God’s image and sometimes we think, or at least I do, of God being more like a man. But, God nurtures, and cares, and cradles, and rocks us when we hurt. He holds us close, like only a mother can. I believe we are called to see the mothering side of God and then to go out into the world and pass on that nurturing gift of ourselves on to others. It doesn’t matter if they are our own children that we’ve given birth to…whomever we love is a child…a child of God. Thank you for a beautiful post and a loving call to go forward into the world with a mother’s heart.
Bev
Bev
Yes, yes, yes a thousand times yes to this, Bev.
This is so true. I recently came back to a little ministry job I had to give up for season. The Pastor welcomed me back and said, “We missed you, you Mothered the church building through your ministry.” I can’t think of a bigger complement than to be told, “We missed you, mothering.” Thanks Lisa Jo super post and love the pictures.
Goodness, yes, what a gift and what a wise man to say it out loud. LOVE this.
Lisa Jo, what a wonderful celebration of WOMEN! Thank you so much for your words today. They will encourage many. I appreciate this because I always wonder how Mother’s Day feels for women who aren’t mothers. They need encouragement too! 🙂
Thanks Betsy, and yes – I think we all mother in ways that sometimes we don’t even recognize. And we bless each other when we say it out loud. so many warm wishes, Lisa-Jo
Lisa-Jo,
Thanks for a great post! I loved this quote: We mother and motherhood is its own mission field and no one is disqualified from serving.
I never truly thought of myself as a mother as I’ve never had children. The way you describe mothering is so much of what I’ve done lately. Last year we moved my aging dad into assisted living and I “mothered” him through many trials, falls, etc. If mothering consists of making food for people who have lost loved ones, or have family in hospital then yes I have mothered a bit last year! I will continue to mother & show Christ to everyone!!
Blessings 🙂
Thank you! This went along with our pastors sermon this morning.We are all nurturing to those we come in contact with even though we may not be biological mother’s.Thank you for putting my heart into words.To all ladies- Happy Mother’s Day!