MaryBeth Eberhard reflects on the paradoxical strength mothers have, even in their times of great weakness.
I recently spent time on the road to Calvary. For a mother, it can’t be avoided. It is a place I’ve visited many times; its vision seared clearly upon my memory. I feel the burn of the salty tears ready to overflow from my eyes. The ache of my heart as I once again encounter a situation in which I am rendered helpless.
As I hold my child and count the breaths, watch the minutes, and pray through the hours, I join the walk to Calvary. I place myself there amid the crowd. I watch as my Lord carries a cross so heavy that he stumbles. I myself, feel like stumbling. I feel weary and an ache so deep it is cavernous. I hear its echo in my soul. Silent tears stream down my face and I feel Mamma Mary’s presence. Standing next to me, she too is aching. She stands at the foot of the cross, looking up in a mother’s grief as her son suffers in agony.
Our eyes meet and she knows. She knows my pain. Her ache to hold her Son causes shivers to run down my spine. My arms tighten around my child. Thank you, Lord, for this moment. Thank you for letting me be here in this moment. Thank you for letting this child turn to me for help. It’s a paradox, this strength we mothers have; a strength that allows us to both be weak and strong, to be supple to the whims of the Holy Spirit and firm in moments of trial.
At the foot of the cross, it is easy to feel alone. I think this is one of the temptations of the evil one; to isolate ourselves and not reach out. I suffer alongside my children and we slowly walk through the valley. We begin again. These are not the stories to be shared. They belong to them and yet my story is interwoven with theirs. I breathe as I pray into their testimony. I imagine them standing strong and solid in their identity as children of God.
The reality that we are tied together along this journey is true, but it was recently pointed out to me that I have my own testimony. Like the Blessed Mother, my story has depth, purpose, and meaning, and I am not alone. We as mothers speak a language of endless service, of pouring out for the Lord, of rejoicing that comes from the fruit of suffering. We steep ourselves in the word of God and the love of Jesus Christ and we persevere in peace and joy. At times, it can feel a bit out of place, this joy, in the midst of suffering.
I find myself crying in a mother’s anguish and a holy rejoicing. From where can this peace come? Our help comes from the Lord. Scripture is full of these reminders. In the First Letter of Peter, we read,
In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials. (1 Peter 1:16)
The Letter of James reminds us,
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. (James 1:2-4)
And the Book of Exodus reminds us that when we are still and we call upon the Lord, he is there, fighting for us.
This recognition that we are not alone brings me back to Calvary, to the foot of the cross. Who else is with me? There are others who watch in anguish. They suffer in endless worry, unable to change this moment. I close my eyes and see other mothers, in hospitals, in their bedrooms, on the streets, in their own Calvary moments and I pray for them.
Some of the moments in our Holy Mass that I am most drawn to, are when we communally pray for one another. We ask our brothers and sisters to pray for us and we pray for them. Before becoming Pope, then-Cardinal Ratzinger wrote, “Faith is community with Mary at the foot of the Cross.”
As Catholic Christians, we mothers are not alone. May we let this knowledge of a sisterhood united in suffering and joy strengthen us as we persevere this Lent and beyond. Jesus, even in his suffering, did not leave us alone. He calls us to remember that and ask Mary to intercede for us. She knows our mother’s heart so very well and will not leave us alone at the foot of the cross.
Copyright 2021 MaryBeth Eberhard
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About the Author
MaryBeth Eberhard
MaryBeth Eberhard spends most of her time laughing as she and her husband parent and school their eight children. She has both a biological son and an adopted daughter who have a rare neuromuscular condition called arthrogryposis and writes frequently about the life experiences of a large family and special needs. Read more of her work at MaryBethEberhard.com.
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