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| many thanks to a friend who created this while her son rested in womb. this, the divine she. |
i've heard mothers say that the first time they see their baby's face is their holiest moment.
but we, those of us raised within patriarchal religion, are denied the comfort of our own beginning, like a babe snatched away at birth and our mother, exiled.
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i threw my arms around Her legs
came to weeping, came to weeping
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abba::amma
my sojourn curves into her arms, the sacred God-mother. if you asked a year ago i would have gasped at myself in dismay, but i need only to look in a mirror; i am made in her image, yes? and i am hungry and desperate and lonely for her, the ancient She. at first i was afraid. the old voices of fear, they are loud and strong. they demand that everything be laid out flat in black and white, then they trample the pearls before tearing me to pieces.
but i('m) grow(ing) strong.
i am made like her.
for so long i viewed a one-sided picture, and even that was skewed and punctured through like photographs on a cork-board. but i want the whole image, which means i need to study the unknown for a while, behold Her face like a newborn blinking at her mother for the very first time. i need to let Her hold me, nourish me, cradle me. i need to see Her and hear Her voice. i need Her to tell me about herself and Him, and myself and the earth and all the other souls. i want to see through Her eyes; i want to know and be known.
she was there all along, even in the scriptures i read again and again.
she stood before me, face to face.
i have opened my eyes, now. and even though the mirror is dim, i can see her, see the outline of her. but mostly i feel pressed close, clutched close in comfort, and cradled.
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you know when you gather your child close and bury your face in her hair?
you breathe her in deep; you kiss her forehead and fingers and toes and pour all your love into every glistening fiber of her being, knowing that you would do anything for her, you would die for this darling beautiful creature you made?
and her whole being lights up at the sight of you, and only you can still her cries, soothe her spirit, calm her fears? only you can kiss her knees and make the pain go away?
and she calls to you first in the night, and whispers stories and dreams and cuddles herself right on up to your heart?
yeah, i think it's like that.
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this is part of my journey that perhaps not many will understand. i don't wish to defend anything or to convince anyone to see things as i do. please, each one, seek the creator and follow the path you are given. this is very personal for me, and i write these things out as part of my journal and sojourn. please be respectful. regardless, love is what matters.
I never thought to look at God like a mother... my life was spent seeking the void of filling my always absent father and clinging to Abba.... I never even acknowledged the absence my mom created when she left too years later. I am intrigued by the concept of Amma
ReplyDeleteShoot. I did not realize we held the same title. That was not purposeful. Hmmmm...I wonder what I should change mine too. I love this post. It could be my counterpart. Funny enough I was reading a book that was challenging the same thing yet in a different way. Loved this version. I really wasn't copying.... Uncanny. I had this post this morning in my head. Ok, well Off to change my title. Loved this!!!
ReplyDeletekmarie, wow! don't change your title though. i love that this was in your mind unintentionally...i think it is just one more thread tying together what is happening...i appreciate that you want to be original though. i greatly respect that in a writer, when you find your own style and voice and originality and way of writing. but seriously...keep this serendipitiousness. :D
ReplyDelete:) I missed this. I changed it in case we have the same readers and they miss one of ours because they think they already clicked on it...Love the serendipitiousnes too.
ReplyDelete"my sojourn curves into her arms"
ReplyDeleteit speaks of the welcome home, as well as the place of rest throughout the journey, surrounded always - love this phrase.
"but i('m) grow(ing) strong.
i am made like her."
I was struck when I read these words, that as She is strong so am I, "I am made like her." Something clicked, something fell into place - female strength - may it be so, as it is meant to be, not in backlash or in proving, but from the Source, from Herself.
i, too, am "hungry and desperate and lonely for her, the ancient She." for years i have been quietly following this longing of mine - it's like a grief that takes me through the register of emotions, most recently: anger . . . especially after attending the christmas eve service as my mother's church where they read - and i quote - that the word was made flesh in the baby born from "that women'a body." THAT WOMAN'S BODY? before i could stop myself, i said aloud "her name is mary." and then i did like i do every christmas eve: i sang the beloved hymns with feminine pronouns.
ReplyDeletei've found myself torn in two over this thing of God as Mother or God as Father, or even both in one. i'm not sure what is right, which is true and which is longing.
ReplyDeletebut i know my God lives. Redeemer, gender regardless, strong forever. this is what i know, this womb that birthed me held me still. infinite Mother, tender Father
I loved this as I love all of your words. What wonderful things for me to ponder that had never entered my mind or heart before. Words that once would have made me put red flags up but now, seem oh so hopeful! I want those type of calls, whispers and cuddles!
ReplyDelete"but we, those of us raised within patriarchal religion, are denied the comfort of our own beginning, like a babe snatched away at birth and our mother, exiled....she was there all along, even in the scriptures we read again and again."
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful and so comforting...thank you.
{{kateri}}
ReplyDeleterambling heather, believe me...i totally *get* that. i can't wait to watch your journey unfold. you are so brave.
rachel, i love how all of our journeys are so unique. follow not me or anyone else but the gentle shepherd. love. those are the important things. :-)
jeanne, can totally relate. :-)
janae, thank you for creating such a powerful work of art. it moves me still.
shelby, it is so intriguing, is it not? thank you for commenting.
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i believe that God (which, in and of itself is an overarching term, like a title; "God" is not God's name, and can be a plural term, like "deer" and "deer" are both singular and plural) is neither male nor female as a unit. (like a family is not male or female but can be a whole unit comprised of both within it.)
so i could reframe these words to say that i want to know the feminine part of God, which could be said as wanting to know the mother part of the family.
clear as mud?
How did I miss this glorious post? I'm so with you on the "She". When my son was very ill, I prayed to the " She" that is.. the woman, nurturer who would totally get my mama pain. Oddly, I just posted a new blogpost with a Ray Lamontagne video.. weird.. or not so weird ;)
ReplyDeleteThank you for introducing me to Ray LaMontagne. Wow... The words so soft... flowing.
ReplyDeleteYour words intrigue me. You open up so many concepts I haven't thought of before. Thank you for that. Thank you for your soothing way with words. You are beautiful!
xxx
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