This I Know

Living in christian community as a body is a blessing like no other. But body life is messy business. We bump into one another. We suffer wrongs at the hands of a brother or sister in Christ and we wrong a brother or sister. We offend and are offended. And we forgive. We must forgive. We must forgive because when we stop to consider the grace that has been lavished upon us and really recognize it for what it is - well, we can't help but to forgive.

I had an opportunity to say what was in my wounded heart to a sister in Christ - and then I remembered grace.

I remembered where He found me and what He did for me. I heard Him whisper "grace" into my steely heart. While I first wrote this letter to a "sister-mother" sharing a difficult providence, I decided it fitting to write to all of you wounded sister-mothers in Christ, whose roads are different from mine but whose hearts are so very much the same.

You are beloved by God, child of light, heir to the kingdom, ransomed captive bought with the shed blood of the Son of the Most High- the perfect lamb, our great High Priest, in whom we have redemption.

I am a child of the promise, a recipient of mercy, a living stone fitted for a kingdom-undeserved, partaker of righteousness, loved by God, sinner - saved by grace, made saint, forgiven much and washed in the blood of the One who gave all.

This I know...

We are mothers. Gentleness hiding fierce warriors, battle-ready for our sons and daughters. Wielding words rather than swords, inflicting damage aimed at any who would harm them.

Let me sheath my word-sword for a moment to spill my mother's heart blood with you ~ to be what we were meant to be ~
warrior women.

Jael must have been a mother. She did what no man-warrior could. Moses' mother released her child to the enemy knowing his salvation rested with the God of her captive people. God grant me eyes of faith like that! We are from the stock of the widow who dared to approach Elijah and would not leave until her child lived. We are Bathsheba, who dared fall on her face before her husband, David, in his last days, securing the throne for her son.

We are Sarah, Rebecca, Hannah~they are our mothers, and we, their daughters.

This I know...

We are mothers of daughters and sons. We stand in the gap for them, pleading with Jesus for what wisdom has not yet granted. We are their biggest fan ~ we will always be their biggest fan. We see in them their goodness, and cover their shortcomings with love that falls like rain.

And we see the promise.

We are mothers. We know how to love more deeply than any created being. To ask us to be something apart from this is like asking us to rip our very souls from our body; we cannot, and yet, if we had to do this for our children we would find a way.

We are perfectly imperfect.
We are mothers.

May grace walk with you~my sister-mother.
May wisdom be our companion.
May we remember we are on the same journey
and may we be quick to bridge the gap
when the other
stumbles
on the unknown road,
and first to cheer
when the race is completed.