The Sacrifice Of The Mother
Boundless strength, unending faith and unfaltering grace adorn our vision of the Mother.
Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.
Yet another repost.
But I believe this is a good one.
Mary, The Archetype
When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son!
Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother!
And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.
John 19:26-27
Mary, wife of Joseph, mother of Jesus. The Archetypal Mother. The Divine Feminine.
The possessor of boundless faith and limitless capacity for love and comfort. She is the Mother present at the torture and execution of her child. Though well into being a man, He was still her boy.
She was there, ever trusting of her child in His decision to live His own life. He offered Himself up as sacrifice for the world. By allowing Him to, she had as well.
The Archetypal Mother, Mary. There have been many mothers since that have followed in her footsteps. Mothers willing to make that sacrifice. Willing to allow their children to live their own lives, as they should. While knowing full well what that could mean in the end.
Sacrifice As An Essence
We are born of love; Love is our mother.
Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī (Rumi)
Mothers do this with an understanding they cannot know what the consequences or the results could be, except that it could end in disaster, yet they do it anyway. This allows their children to live how they were called to, how they need to.
When this sacrifice isn't made, when the Mother cannot let go, it robs the child of their own life and their own agency. It shouldn't happen too soon, or immediately, but must happen at some point. And mothers throughout time have willingly chosen to do so time and time again.
It's the sign of a strong mother.
My mother is a strong mother.
My wife is a strong mother.
I am awestruck watching the women in my life navigate through theirs. The strength of the women around me is nothing short of inspiring. It gives them each an aura of indomitability.
Solid.
Impregnable.
Divine.
And yet, they cannot see it. Which has often given me the sense of accuracy in my assumption. Pride and arrogance would not allow these archetypal traits to manifest.
Only humility.
Only gratitude.
Only selflessness.
Grace As Existence, The Mother
The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.
If they go through life as strong as they are, often knocked down by life but never staying down for long, ever willing to press on in fear of allowing those setbacks to interfere with the lives of their own children, yet not seeing their actions and their abilities as strength but as pedestrian, does that not mean they're capable of far more? Wouldn't that indicate a capacity for strength unfathomable by someone like me?
Is that part of being a mother? Is being a woman that navigates through life under the perception her inexhaustible capacity for strength is pedestrian at best, therefore also believing the potential of their children likely far exceeds their own only the default state of motherhood?
I can see that being true. We could infer, then, there is no upper limit to the value of a mother nor the value they can provide to the world.
Is that the magic of a mother's love?
I cannot see how it isn't.
I don't know how I, a son to a mother whose strength also knows no bounds, would have the strength to succeed for myself without having witnessed hers.
Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.
There are collective understandings, visions, and assumptions about men and women. Men are physically stronger and braver, in this collective view. Women are physically weaker yet more compassionate than men here too. There is merit to these views, of course, or they would not have survived as long as they have.
But there are also portions wholly overlooked. The bravery and faith of the mother cannot be overstated and, to me, is often undervalued. The proof I offer is the unfailing willful sacrifice rendered by mothers for the sake and benefit of their children being the default manifestation of motherhood.
That was a mouthful, but iteration after iteration of that sentence resulted in that proposal.
That's enough philosophical waxing to add a protective sheen to every car and truck in America, so I'll end it there.
Man, women are the best though, are they not?
My mother is stronger than she allows herself credit. Much stronger. When I was growing up, we had hard times. Looking back I know they were hard times. While they were around I didn't have a clue those times were difficult.
Now that's impressive. It displays the strength of my mother and the resilience of a child. Both are wonderful. As a single mother she was still willing to have my father help where he could. Yet she was not willing to take advantage of the fact he was at the mercy of the state forcing arbitrary minimum requirements for support. Granted, he's pretty damn terrific too, so she didn't need to.
Somehow she was able to avoid allowing those portions of my life seem as though they were tough times as we were going through them. I don't even know how that's accomplished, yet it was. And now she's in a loving marriage with a strong and wonderful man. A man she somehow found, vetted, and introduced at a time I needed to be around a strong man.
That allowed me to learn and grow under his example, despite my tendency to fight tooth and nail against his influence and his lessons. Wonderful.
I look back and appreciate it all now, of course, but it wasn't apparent while it was happening. How did she do so well?
I can't imagine she knew how things would turn out, but that's the faith portion. That's the seeing and the believing in the potential and capability of her children portion.
Wonderful.
That's the ability to throw her own pride out the window for the sake of her children portion.
Wonderful.
What a strong woman.
And my wife. What a strong woman.
No man succeeds without a good woman behind him. Wife or mother, if it is both, he is twice blessed indeed.
She too accepted help when it came down to her children and their needs. She too found, vetted, and introduced a man for her children to be around. Now it's up to me to live up to the example of my father and my step-father and be the man they showed me I must be.
Wonderful.
Any my aunts. I cannot stress how tough those women are.
Just Wonderful. All of them. All of these women in my life.
They're all wonderful.
And necessary.
And loved.
I am blessed.
Love,
Dad
Incredibly powerful post and thank you for this. I feel like this message needs to be blared on a loudspeaker that real love and a incredibly important task for mothers and parents in general is to understand that though the child is their child it is not “their” child — meaning they need to understand that it has its own calling and free will and they need to know when to back off.
I have seen incredible damage be done when this is not the case and I think that’s a big reason why we have so many adult children who have no idea who they are or how to handle life. I realize it is not an easy thing because mothers know What the world is like, but sometimes love is standing back and out of the way. If that makes any sense.
Anyway, this was really great, thank you.🙏
‘Man, women are the best though, are they not?..
Indescribably so.
I was blessed with a grandmother, mother, and wife that were and are the bedrock of my home and my life. Quietly organising every facet of my family’s life, past and present. Things that this fool would simply overlook. Right down to dusting in places my eyes would not see.
I do try. Really, I do.
They are cut from a different, sturdy beyond measure, cloth.
A source of wonder to me.
Always. God bless mothers everywhere.