A Step Back- Viewing the Tapestry of Motherhood

I have been taking a step back from things.  I am trying to observe more. Contemplate things. Desperately trying to listen more, rather than spout out everything that comes to mind. As you can imagine, that is very hard for me to do. I have continued to write. In fact I have a cue of blogs on all that has been taking place. Some I may publish. Others might need to stay unpublished indefinitely.

My high school History teacher would always use the analogy that our lives are like a tapestry.  We can only see the back side which looks rough and mangled and out of order but when it’s turned over a beautiful masterpiece has been created.  From time to time I catch a glimpse of the front side of my tapestry, especially when I take step back.

The lineage of women in my life is something that I often take for granted. But as I sat down to write Mother’s day cards to not only my mom but my grandmothers as well, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by how rich I am. How fortunate I have been.  I have had the rare privilege of growing up with both sets of grandparents and two great grandmothers- one of which has passed on into eternity, but the other is still going strong. And I mean strong. Yet every one of them has been strong.  Faithful, devoted, committed, loving servants to all.  Giving, gracious, generous.  Each of them in love with God in their own way. 

When it comes to mothering, we all know how short we fall of perfection.  How much we lack in certain areas. I’m sure each of my grandmothers could talk about how their mom didn’t do such and such as my mom could say my grandma didn’t do so and so and I could say of my mom not doing this and that and Jack and Finn will say…. You get the point. I am constantly aware of my screw ups and failures and want so badly to be the best mom ever.  Yet I know no matter how great I do, they will have something to say later in life about something I did or didn’t do.

But as I age and continue to walk this road of motherhood and consider the legacy of mothers before me, I realize the shortcomings don’t make up the whole. Just like the tapestry, in the moment and even sometimes moments far removed, all we can see is the rough, mangled out of order mess that our lives are in. Our relationships with our children or our mothers.  The screw ups, the blow ups, the words wrecklessly used, the silences, the resentments, the hurt, the anger. The backside. But on the other side are the tender words and affection, the laughs and happy tears, the long conversations, the understanding, the love, the forgiveness. Weaving together a beautiful masterpiece over a lifetime.

I step back and see this legacy of women and run my fingers over the perfectly placed threads on the front side. And I smile. And I am proud. And I am humbled. Because I know the back does not look pretty  and I can’t forget  nor deny that the reason all of it forms a beautiful picture is because grace unwinds the mess and makes it the masterpiece.

So this Mother’s day, no matter what your view, remember that this is not the end. Whether you are 93 or 23. Old mother, young mother. The tapestry of your life is being woven and from where you are standing you may not see the masterpiece.  Take a step back, take a deep breath and trust in the fact that the threads are piecing together as they should.  And you have the chance now, the breath now to say those tender words and shower affection, to share the laughs and happy tears, long conversations and understanding. You can pour out unconditional love, and extend forgiveness, not only to others, but to yourself. And if your mother has passed cherish the good times. And if you grieve this day because you are not by biological definition a “mother” you too have the power to be an influence in the life of another.

I know how much I cherish the influences in my life.  And how much I hope to pass on the devotion and faithfulness that has been modeled to me so graciously. Not only to my children but to all I encounter.

Join me in celebrating the joys and aches that form the masterpiece of motherhood.