I want my mommy.” I whisper into my husband’s shoulder. His shirt gathered into my fists as I hold onto him with such emotion and exhaustion. I crave guidance, a woman’s knowledge of how to persevere as the journey gets harder.

There are so many changes in life happening: older kids who bring older worries, younger kids who are growing into adults being tested by the challenging influences of this world, my marriage growing and changing over 27 years, planning for my home to be empty in a few years, the stress of balancing caring for all the needs in this home, balancing my work and my husband’s, trying not to ask too much of him but also not trying to take it all on myself.

Oh, dear figurative mother who I long to have, where are you? What would you say to me? Would you make me tea? Would you hold me, stroke my hair and tell me it’s going to be OK, like I do my daughters and sons?

I long for your wisdom. I long for your comfort. I long for your smile. All those thoughts come rushing from my heart into my prayer as I cling to my husband. I am spent. I feel lost in this season of mothering, and I just don’t know where to turn.

Trusting the Holy Spirit and this longing for a mother, I pause and really pray into this. Have you ever longed for your mother? Maybe she is far away, and you cannot physically be with her. Technology clearly helps, but there is something about person-to-person interaction. Some have this luxury, a close-knit tender, drop in for a cup of tea type of relationship. Some had it and cling to the memories and gifts for it. However, there are some of us that did not have that, and at times are left feeling bereft; without, alone. We could stay here and constantly wish for what others have or we can ask for what we need. Our Father in heaven is a provider. So I am trusting in this.

When I take this particular desire of my heart to the Lord (and I do so many times), he gently guides me back to mother Mary. Mary as the constant eternal mother is there longing to step in and listen. Though not physically in person on my front porch, I can sit with my cup of tea and pour out my heart to her. If we have the gift of being mothers ourselves, it is easier to understand the gift of being trusted and turned to. Just yesterday my son tagged along on an errand in the car and as he poured out his young adult thoughts, he said, “It is just good to be listened to Mom.” I think that is a good deal of what we long for: to be heard, listened to, for our thoughts to be received and validated.

But how will I get through this, my heart asks (again). I am a visual person and so as I pray, I see our Father in Heaven smiling at me and then tilting his head with a knowing smile toward His mother. Images of her life and her apparitions as it continues to unfold, pouring out for us, appear, offering comfort, wisdom and guidance. Mary trusting in God’s provision as she and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem. Mary sheltering the infant Jesus as they fled to Egypt. Mary weary with worry when she cannot find Jesus who has stayed back in the temple. Mary wracked with pain as she watches her son suffer upon the cross. But we also have Mary at Guadalupe showing us gentleness and trust. “Am I not your mother?” At Lourdes, we have Mary reminding us to “go to the source, drink and wash yourself there.”

From this, I am reminded to get myself to turn to the gift of the sacraments: to Mass where I can eat and drink of the source of life. Wash myself of my sins and go to confession. I am always amazed at how right ordered my life feels when I tend to myself spiritually. It is often last on my list of things to take care of when I am overwhelmed, and yet it is the one that sets me straight.

I think of the times when my children come and pour out their hearts to me. As an earthly mother, I try to solve their problems. It is this same desire to have my own problems solved that brings me to the point of crying out for that motherly comfort. The comfort I really seek is the desire to be right oriented and Mary does that so gently, yet perfectly.

Perhaps you are like me and have moments where life seems overwhelming; you don’t have the answers and you are not sure which way to go. Join me in getting myself more frequently to Mass and confession to begin again. There is no mother who knows us better than our heavenly mother. Let us turn to Mary as that model of trust, surrender, gentleness and wisdom.

This article also appeared in the Catholic Times.

Image licensed through Adobe Stock.