I love our community. In fact, the more that I attune to the beauty here. In the neighborhood. In the people of this place. In the meaningful connections we share. The more I feel hope rise up steady and strong within me. Today, I found beauty in the faces of women and mothers gathered around a living room to remember to live the sacred ordinary. We were welcomed warmly with tea, fresh fruit, and homemade muffins into the Home of Refuge, as our host Katie likes to call it. And we were introduced to a beautiful soul, Rachel Devenish Ford, author, blogger, artist, traveler and mother, all the way from Thailand. Rachel is here in the U.S. for a month to share the wisdom gleaned from their Christ-centered meditation center, as she curates spiritual experiences for seekers of all faiths, religions and backgrounds. She welcomed us with a beautiful, fragrant Mandela on the coffee table made from fresh cut spring flowers into a spacious place to consider the sacredness of our everyday lives. It is hard to describe the power of affirming our vocations in the world as mothers and as pastors, as writers, curators of hospitality, artists, theologians, and healers through the ordinary tasks of life. Rachel described these as acts of devotion, likening it to the many stories of women in the bible who lavishly poured out their affection. It is the call to a monastic life. To wash floors and toilets, to run errands, to juggle multiple jobs, do laundry, wrangle and nurture children, and open up our lives and our homes to neighbors and strangers alike. All in service to Jesus. As if it is our jar of alabaster to pour out at his feet.
What a gift it was to see the beauty of these women. And then to witness the tears, the wisdom and vulnerability shared, the “aha” moments of coming home, coming home to ourselves. What a beautiful thing to honor the sacrificial sacrament of the mother, the often hidden, thankless, tireless, patient care of a mother, a kind of nurture that demands and requires extraordinary presence and attention. We would all do well to learn from them something of Christ, something of generosity and service that is rarely celebrated today. Much more than the Hallmark picture of the perfect mother that none of us had, this Mother’s Day I want to celebrate the imperfect mothers I know. Mothers who rarely get a good night of sleep, who can’t remember when they had a day to themselves, who struggle to not lose their identity and call to vocation with all the demands of raising children, working and doing life. And yet who are showing up. Who are living a sacramental life, with an openness to attend to the sacred in the midst of the chaos. Who receive no honor or esteem for their faithful presence day in and day out. And yet who are tending to the holy, birthing life, giving love, listening, paying attention, advocating, feeding, praying, and creating.
Rachel shared a quote this morning by Henri Nouwen, “The great movement of the spiritual life is from a deaf, nonhearing life to a life of listening.” Listening, paying attention, opening up our lives to be interrupted. This invites us to the sacramental life, living the sacred ordinary. Which is why I love the neighborhood so much. This is where the big stories of money, fame, success, and power that are worshipped in our culture are replaced with the small stories, of presence, faithfulness, generosity and compassion. Where the unsung heroes are celebrated and championed. So here’s to all the women and mothers this week, on Mother’s Day and all year round. You teach us so much of what it means to be faithfully present.
by Jessica Ketola
What a gift it was to see the beauty of these women. And then to witness the tears, the wisdom and vulnerability shared, the “aha” moments of coming home, coming home to ourselves. What a beautiful thing to honor the sacrificial sacrament of the mother, the often hidden, thankless, tireless, patient care of a mother, a kind of nurture that demands and requires extraordinary presence and attention. We would all do well to learn from them something of Christ, something of generosity and service that is rarely celebrated today. Much more than the Hallmark picture of the perfect mother that none of us had, this Mother’s Day I want to celebrate the imperfect mothers I know. Mothers who rarely get a good night of sleep, who can’t remember when they had a day to themselves, who struggle to not lose their identity and call to vocation with all the demands of raising children, working and doing life. And yet who are showing up. Who are living a sacramental life, with an openness to attend to the sacred in the midst of the chaos. Who receive no honor or esteem for their faithful presence day in and day out. And yet who are tending to the holy, birthing life, giving love, listening, paying attention, advocating, feeding, praying, and creating.
Rachel shared a quote this morning by Henri Nouwen, “The great movement of the spiritual life is from a deaf, nonhearing life to a life of listening.” Listening, paying attention, opening up our lives to be interrupted. This invites us to the sacramental life, living the sacred ordinary. Which is why I love the neighborhood so much. This is where the big stories of money, fame, success, and power that are worshipped in our culture are replaced with the small stories, of presence, faithfulness, generosity and compassion. Where the unsung heroes are celebrated and championed. So here’s to all the women and mothers this week, on Mother’s Day and all year round. You teach us so much of what it means to be faithfully present.
by Jessica Ketola
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