I had just started into the litany of intercessions for morning prayers (along about "Be mindful, O Lord, of all civil authorities . . ."), when I heard Sofie cry out and Anna sleepily mumbled for me to come and get her. So, I headed back to the bedroom, continuing the prayers (". . . that in their tranquility we may lead calm and peaceful lives in all godliness and sanctity"), and grabbed Sofie up out of the co-sleeper, and said, "Let's go finish our morning prayers."
Holding my daughter in my arms, I continued the Church's prayers, praying for family members and friends, travellers, the captives and the needy poor, for myself, and for the dead. Between the litany of intercessions and the concluding prayers, I interject several intercessory prayers both formal and extemporaneous, and troparia and kontakia for several saints, including my patrons.
In my prayers, I call upon the Mother of God to intercede for my wife and daughter. As I invoked the intercessions of the Theotokos this morning, I held in my arms the very daughter for whom I prayed.
And that got me to thinking again about something that's been on my mind for some time. You see, this isn't a reflection on fatherhood, per se, nor a resume of my prayer practices.
Rather, I want to reflect on the vocation of motherhood.
The vocation of motherhood is tranformative. Just a few years ago, my wife had several career goals she wanted to meet: children's librarian, member of the Newbery Award committe, published author, etc. And in three short years she has met these goals. She also wanted to be a mother, and in the past three years, we have had moments of greater and lesser longing for children. But motherhood was something more distant, after we both finished school.
God had other plans. From one perspective, Sofie was unplanned. On the other hand, I'd been praying certain prayers for which Sofie was the answer. So Sofie's presence with us now had been ordained.
And that mix of half-felt longing and "accident" unleashed a new vocation. Anna is now a mother. And seeing the transformation it has made is something to behold.
I have been a front row witness to the holiness of the vocation of motherhood. Motherhood is not a sacrament, per se, nor a Eucharistic ministry. But it is not the less sacred for all that. Indeed, at this time of year, I am reminded that the most holy of women undertook this most holy of vocations; the Mother of God gave birth to our Savior and raised Him in the faith of God's people.
One of the great failures of the modern feminist movement is this severing of women from their holiest and most transformative of callings. Seeing my wife and daughter, I have to seriously ask, why would any woman so disparage this greatest of holy gifts to run around trying to be like us men? And for those who do not disparage the gift yet who still sever the woman from her vocation, my question is, how can what we men do and accomplish in this fallen world ever compare to this miracle of life-bearing?
Yes, I am well aware, at least so much as a man can be, that there is no wealth of human glory given to motherhood. And though we are newly-minted parents, I can better understand each day the toil and potential heartache of motherhood. That it is its own reward on some days must surely not seem enough.
But it seems to me that this is to fail to see the vocation of motherhood through the eyes and in the full-treasured heart of the Blessed Virgin. That Mary's motherhood is unique and not-to-be-repeated does not make it any less a touchstone for our more ordinary birthing and living and dying. Indeed, because of its uniqueness, it is all the more relevant to our daily struggles.
I am in awe of my wife and her vocation, this holiest of human ministries. I pray I may be worthy to provide her the protection and support necessary for her to accomplish her salvation through life-bearing.
Posted by Clifton at December 18, 2003 06:40 AM | TrackBack