Introducing ...Motherhood!

The prayer of  St. Francis has always been a magnet  to my soul.  I remember having a special affinity for it back when I was a teenager.  It was on the back of the mass card of my great grandfather and from the time he passed away, I would read it daily.  It just made so much sense to me and was such a comfort in a world that seemed to spin out of control.  I really didn’t know much about St. Francis except for these words of peace he had written centuries ago until I found myself as an undergraduate at St. Bonaventure University.  At the first mass I attended they sang the prayer and I just cried because I realized that  God had guided me to the place I was meant to be.  Of course, I soon learned that they sang the prayer quite often as St. Bonaventure was a Franciscan University and St. Bonaventure had been a devoted follower of St. Francis. 

St. Francis of Assisi

While an undergrad at St. Bonaventure University, I fell in love with the Franciscan way of life. I remember learning the words of St. Francis, “Preach the Gospel at all times and if necessary, use words.”  The friars  there didn’t just talk about being the hands and feet of Christ; they WERE the hands and feet of Christ. This spirit of serving appealed to me as I learned the true value of community and service. 

Little did I know how this spirituality would arm me as a mother. That living, breathing spirituality permeated my days..  Plentiful were the opportunities to “be” Christ to my kids right from the start.  With the undying support of my husband, Michael, I was able to “stay home” and motherhood has been a ministry that I’ve taken on.  Oh sure, I had helped with a few ministries before but this one rocked my world. This one required that I was punched in 24/7 and that I had to be on my game even when I was sleep deprived and starving.

When I brought my first little angel home I thought, “Now what?”   Now that I’ve changed her, fed her, sang to her, rocked her…now what?  Then I changed her, fed her, sang to her and rocked her again …and again …and again.  I felt betrayed..no one had told me it took this much stamina to bring up a new human being.  The world had held out on a big secret…not intentionally, of course.  It’s just that the world of a new mom is like a minute in the eternal stretch of time and easily escapes the memory.

I was a planner, a teacher, an overachiever.   I had taught literature to about one hundred High School students the year prior.   I was coming out of my skin not being able to check things off; it was so hard to not feel I had accomplished my goals for that day.  Now any goals I had for my day that were any loftier than “survival” were squashed by sunrise.  Thus began my journey with, in and through motherhood. It was like a vast canvas that seemed to stretch out before me like an unsung melody that was ringing in my ears.  Where were the colors?   Why couldn’t I hear the music?

          Day by day, slowly the colors began to appear…only after I realized that the colors were revealed in the moments.  God began to open my eyes to the beauty of each “mommy moment”. Those mundane tasks of motherhood became my artist’s palette when I began to see God’s ways, graces and revelations in them.   I remember holding my first daughter, Emily, in my arms, staring into her eyes and having the lightbulb go off above my head:  “Oh, THAT’s how much God loves me”.    And even when she would scream at the top of her lungs and I would only try to console her more…”Oh, THAT’s how much He loves me.”  Now I got it. I tossed my planners and got on board and made mothering my full-time job.   In our fast paced, goal-oriented society, this thinking landed me on a raft upstream but it was ok, because now I had the perspective I needed to start painting my masterpiece. The canvas before me now wasn’t big enough. 

Then the music of motherhood began.  At first the sound was like a cacophony of random notes, but slowly as I started making sense of this motherhood “gig”, our lives became a song.  Honestly, I heard the melody clearest when I realized I was not in control anymore.  

I knew in order to hear the fullest music, to make sense of the random notes,  I couldn’t stand in God’s way.   I had to let Him use me as an instrument…an instrument of peace.