Not always, but many times, "mother" is synonymous with "grace."
But not in the way one would traditionally consider such a sentence.
Photo by Olia Gozha on Unsplash
Mothers are not gracious; we are flawed and tired, impatient and imperfect. We are human. We fall so very short of perfect and deserving. Our mothers were not gracious either. We remember the times they yelled or spoke harshly, or when they fought us as we tried to separate, yet still desperately needing their support. Having been a daughter for 37 years and a mother for 14, I am starting to see my mother's side of it all in a much clearer way.
But as a mother, I have experienced grace.
Motherhood has a way of sanctifying us even before we officially become part of the club. It sanctifies after they're gone. It sanctifies when the space between children is too long or too short. It sanctifies when you worry that your child will grow up to be something you don't intend. It sanctifies when that child does grow up and becomes something you wish he wasn't. Because at some point, our responsibility must end and theirs must begin.
I know my children have seen every single side of me...and they love me anyway.
I know my husband has heard me speak harshly and unkindly...but he loves me anyway.
I know my friends know I'm nicer to their kids than I am to mine...and they love me anyway.
I know I have made silly rules about what Grandma can and can't say or do, and I've had to change my mind...but she loves me anyway.
I know that despite my best efforts, I will continue to be an imperfect mom. But that's okay.
I try to hug the people I love, giving grace where grace is needed, because I've received so much.
I try to say what is true, and not let lies take hold.
I'm a sanctified mom. We all are.
What better picture of the gospel than giving a simply undeserving person unmerited grace, wholly dependent on the giver?