Today is Mother’s Day. A day that is beautiful and meaningful to many, but also a day that resurrects hopes unfulfilled and unthinkable loss. It is a day that looks different for us all. For just a minute though I want us all to close our eyes and imagine God as our Mother. I know that seems weird to some because we are used to calling God our Father, and he is, but He is also our mother. You see, God is so much more than a man, God is all things – He is love. He is the I AM. He is strength and power and gentleness and nurturing and love. So today join me. Close your eyes. Uncross your legs. Lay your hands in your lap palm up if you feel comfortable and welcome God into this space.
I have a place where God speaks to me. Not in loud voices, but in quiet whispers of hope. Silent washes of peace and understanding. Still moments filled with understanding that I am whole and seen and wonderfully made. Sometimes there are voices of booming joy and confidence in this life that I am living but mostly it is a small calm, a gentle peak into the canvas of my life that shows me that all will be made right. Even when all feels rough and my brain is scattered with the “to-dos” that never end. Even when all I want to do is sleep and hide from the responsibilities of today. Even when all I want is to be numb from the reality of war and pain and suffering. Even when I am drowning in the fears of never being enough to all those around me. Even in the exhaustion of remembering all of the things for all of my people and carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Even still, She finds me – mother God – just waiting to gather me up yet again. She finds me in my chair. My pink chair in the corner with my warm fuzzy blanket. She lets me lean my head on her shoulders and just be. That being is all that she requires. That is enough for her to see me and know me. Then she fills me with the promise of peace, a peace that passes understanding, a peace that will guard my heart and my mind. So today I sit. Before any of the accomplishing of today can be done, first I must sit. Not even to say eloquent words of supplication and thanksgiving, but simply to sit. Anne Lamott says that there are 2 great prayers, “Help me. Help me. Help me.” And “Thank you. Thank you. Thank.”May we find you here Dear Lord. When sorrows like sea billows roll and when silver white winters burst into spring – may we find you here. It’s never too late. It’s never been too long. We dont have to wait until we have become or wait until we have finished. We cant wait until we have time. We must sit at the table. We must find the stillness. We find it in the passing moment of quiet before we close our eyes and the moment after we turn off the alarm. We find it in the grocery store line and in the elevator music when we are on hold. We find it in the in between. But we have to look for it. We have to see it. We have to let our minds find the stillness and simply be there. When my mind wanders as it will, I just breath the word wandering and simply move past it. There is no shame in this space. Only being. Here we find Him. Here he finds us. Hello dear one, oh how you are loved. Oh how I love that you are mine – perfectly imperfect. No expectations or demands. I see your hurt and your pain. I see your beauty and dreams. Just as you are. So come. Come to the table. Come to the cross. Let yourself be found. Again and again.