i" God delights in being our Mother." ~ St Julian of Norwich.
Normally I HATE May and " Mother's Day" As a childless, middle-aged women , the entire month of May finds me avoiding stores that want to sell me stuff . I love my Mom, and do honor her on that allotted Sunday, but I cannot help but feel left out of the Mom's Club . Now that some of my age-peers are becoming grandmothers, I'm left with staring at my approaching " Crone" stage of life differently than the women in my circle who are mothers.
However, my attitude is adjusted regarding this Mothering Season, thanks to the works of St Julian of Norwich { who insists that God is both Mother & Father ) and --- much more importantly-- the sisterhood of women who were on the retreat with me this year. We were smaller in number, but the Mothering God was there in all Her glory.
I am reminded of a photograph that I snapped three years ago at this same retreat. It is a photo of my hand, alongside the hands of two other women. Our fingers gently touch as we gathered around the altar at Beckwith as we blessed the Affirmation Bracelets that we had created earlier that afternoon.
This photo is one that I printed and keep in a memory book -- among other photos and mementos from that weekend-- and return to often.
When this photo appeared in today's Facebook Memories, I knew I had to save a hard copy to my phone.
If we think about it, the human hand is one of Creator God's miracles. We-- who are made in the Image of this God's Self-- have hands with opposable thumbs. Among all the creatures of the Earth-- only humans have such appendages . Our opposable thumbs allow for us to better grasp and maneuver tools. Throughout the ages, human hands have evolved from merely survival into partnering with our huge, complex brains to create things of beauty.
The same hands that chop roots and herbs for food can also help humans become co-creators. My hands are my avenue for birthing art in the form of either words or images. As a writer, painter and photographer, my hands are an essential physical part of me. I'm able to use my hands to bring images in my imagination to life with acrylic paints and stretched canvas. Each painting is a labor of love-- hours of collaboration between my brain and hands. My work-- the fruit of my mind and hands-- is often given as gifts.
"Brigid of Ireland in Clergy Collar and Chasuble " By Sarah Elizabeth McCarren Acrylic on Canvas 2020.
Liturgically -- before COVID-- my hands were used to hold the Cup and offer it to loved ones at Communion. With God's help, I'll eventually be able to serve inn this way again soon.
My hands have engaged in playing basketball and tossing a football with my nephew. I depend on my hands to pull my niece's long hair away from her face and into a secure ponytail so that we can safely ride bikes together.
I use my hands to lovingly bake home-made bread for people I love. I delight in the kneading of the dough, and in the stickiness of doughy hands.
I think that as women, we often overlook all the ways that we-- and others--use our hands to create, nurture, heal and sustain others. Our hands allow for us to be extensions of Creator Mother God in concrete ways. All of us are called into service as part of our authentic Mother. Our hands -- hands of each and every one of us is called to create, nurture, heal and sustain.
Copy that, Hallmark? But in all seriousness, my goal for the next 45 years of my life is to live into my own sacred femininity.
Amen.
Sarah McCarren
Feast Of St Catherine of Siena
29 April 2021
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