MY MOTHER AND GRANDMOTHER
But Zion said, The Lord has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me.
Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb?
Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.
Is 49, 14-15
These verses evoke sweet images of a mother nursing her child and caring for the young one she had carried in her womb. Whether or not one is a mother, the metaphor is powerful. Yet, I think that many of us who are mothers may have a deeper appreciation of these words than those who have not experienced the long wait from conception to birth and the miraculous moment of bringing new life into the world.
I speak from experience. As a young adult, I was sure I would never marry in spite of my parents deep love for one another and my mothers fulfillment in her role as mother.
When some of her female children and later grandchildren decided to marry late or chose advanced degrees and careers over starting a family, she shook her head and wondered why. For her, no career or degree could match the accomplishment of raising a family; it was the highest calling. Later, she was passionate about her job as a teaching assistant for mentally handicapped children. They became her extended family.
I was not interested in devoting so much of my time and energy to children. I had other things to do. Among my four closest college friends, I was the only one who declared I would never marry or have children. You guessed it: I was the only one who did!
Pregnant with my first, I debated about staying home or going to work after the baby was six months old or so. I worried about bonding with her. I still wanted to write, work for the Church, and go to graduate school. I had been part of an intentional community committed to serving the poor.
After the birth of my first child, I needed about sixty seconds to make the decision. I could never have imagined the overwhelming love that filled my being when my little girl was laid on my chest, the profound connection that has never left. My desire to serve God’s people started with my family. Mom knew that, though she never would have used those words. She knew a mother’s love was about as close to God’s love as one could get. Her selfless giving was something I could not appreciate as a twenty-something. I had to grow into her wisdom.
Could a mother forget the child nursing at her breast? Could she be without compassion for her children? I have had enough experience in life as well as in work with social services to know that some wounded women have been unable to love their children as the mother in these verses. They can even abuse their children, but that is not a response of mentally healthy mothers.
When I read these verses from Isaiah and reflect on my motherly experience, I can take hope and joy from the knowledge that I am loved like that by the One who gave me life. © 2010 Mary van Balen
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