Let me tell you a little story about my mother...
Today, while clearing out untitled google docs, I clicked on one, and all it contained was this link. It's a link to an article about Our Lady of Guadalupe. Although I don't remember it, I apparently had copied the link to the doc and saved it, on March 20, 2018,* in the midst of a painful struggle I was having three months after my seventh baby was born.
The day she was born was a miraculous day. It was the day I almost died, and it also happened to be the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. With her very tangible intercession, God kept me here instead.
While I was still recovering from all of the physical and emotional things of that time, I felt so broken. I didn't know if I'd ever feel whole again. I didn't know if God desired my brokenness to be permanent, or if it was just temporary. I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other, care for my new baby and my other six children, and try to remember who I was. That was around the time I must have found that article, gleaned something from it, and saved it for another rainy day.
Hang onto that, because I'll come back to it.
My mother interceded for me in another way
At another point in the months that followed my experience close to death, when I was in tears over the endless cycle of illness and grief in which I seemed to be drowning, my mother interceded for me in another way-
One night, I randomly came across the words that Our Lady spoke to Juan Diego when she appeared to him in the year 1531:
"Am I not here, I, who am your Mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not the source of your joy? Are you not in the hollow of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms? Do you need anything more? Let nothing else worry you, disturb you."
Instantly I had had peace. It was a reminder to me how God allows His mother to be my mother, and not just on the traumatic day my little baby was born, but in those moments of grief and emptiness out of which I could not climb afterward.
And every day of my life, if I want her.
A message I needed to hear in this moment
For months now, I've often found myself frustrated, fretfully wondering how I'm going to get back to "normal." How all the broken pieces of me would be restored, as I continue to sift through the shards of life created by the destruction of this past year+. How can I trust people again? How can I ever allow anyone close to our family, close to my children, close to me? How can I get back to the way I used to be- The way I was before we moved the first time? The person I desperately tried to keep hold of when we moved again? The person I lost sight of as we were moving twice more, heartache and betrayal marring the already-withering landscape of our dreams? How do I heal from one betrayal that traumatized my family in such a profound way?
How do I reclaim my old self from what feels like an illness I have yet to name, much less heal?
It's been a long, dark struggle, during which I've frequently cried out to God for answers.
Today has been a particularly difficult day.
So when I rediscovered that link, over eight years after I had saved it (and then promptly forgot about it), and I once again read the article by Maura Roan McKeegan, peace seeped in, along with some conviction. The story of a broken statue which she writes so beautifully, conveys a message I needed to hear in this moment of my recovery:
"Let go of worrying about how the broken pieces of life will fit together again. Instead, simply hold onto to Mary and love her. Then, God will have room to take the shattered shards that seemed hopeless, and from the hollow He can make me whole."
Although I know God is with me, and that His path for me has already been trodden by His divine feet, I still find it hard sometimes to just keep going without having knowledge of what's up ahead. To not be privy to His plan for how He will restore me sometimes leaves me feeling a little bit anxious. But children do not think like this. Children just keep moving, in child-like trust, and don't seem to need to know the details.
This is why Mary's motherhood and intercession in my life is such a beautiful gift to me. It was so random to come across that link which I saved so long ago, on a day when I have felt particularly hollow... I am always amazed at how much God allows His mother to be my mother. To be with me in moments of despair, darkness and grief. She is so loving and gentle, especially when I am such a baby. She draws me up into her arms, safe within her mantle, so to carry me to the feet of Jesus.
He gave to us His mother as a gift
When Jesus was dying on the cross, He gave to us His mother as a gift. In His divine wisdom, He knew we needed her, and He knew no one could ever love her more than He did. He allowed her to intercede for us, much like she had for the people at Cana. I cannot ignore the many times she has shown up for me over the last eight years especially, particularly in her title of Our Lady of Guadalupe. God has allowed her apparitions to draw people to Him, the way He converted 9+ million Aztec people to Catholicism through her, in the decade following her apparitions to St. Juan Diego.
She is our mother, gifted to us by God Himself. If we become like little children, she will take our hands in hers, and gently lead us Home.
*You may notice that the date on the linked article says 12/12/24. I confirmed with the editor that the article was originally printed on 3/8/18 (shortly before I first discovered it), and then reprinted 12/12/24 for the Feast of OLOG.
