During Lent, I started praying for a mother. Someone to maybe provide some nurture to a few of my poor little broken child parts who were clamoring in the corners to be heard. I was praying sheepishly, not sure if a 30-year-old mother even had a right to ask God to bring her a mother.
I usually tell those little parts to shut up and suck it up. It didn’t happen and it ain’t gonna happen now.
But those little parts begged and pleaded and managed to push their prayers through the tough guys standing guard of my consciousness. So, in a moment of self- compassion, I asked God to bring me a mother. I asked ever so apologetically, but I asked nonetheless.
And guess what? Over the last several months, God has delivered an avalanche of mothers. I never even had to go out on a “Are you my mother?” hunt. They all just came to me! Seven of them. Crazy, huh? Two emerged out of a women’s prayer retreat, and the rest have prayed their way into my life during my current health crisis.
You know, I would have never seen my current incapacitating health issues as answers to prayer, but they have opened me up to being able to receive help, care and love in ways that I never thought possible. And being sick has allowed me to welcome help and support from all willing parties. In the process, I have discovered some wonderful friends.
God is a giver of great gifts and gives us exceedingly more than we could ask or imagine. Who knew that when I asked for a mom that He would give me seven? God, let me remember your goodness and generosity as I pray. Thank you for your faithfulness, even in my pain and anguish.