Celebrating Mary, Mother of God

I dislike comparing myself to Mary, because it's akin to holding my Sculpey creations next to Michelangelo's Pieta and asking what kind of artist I am. The differences are glaring, apparent, painful to see and ultimately laughable. But, I do it anyway, because it's good spiritual exercise.

Mary was a wife and mother, as am I. Mary cooked meals, cleaned house, and did laundry, as do I. There the comparisons end.

I imagine home life with Mary and I envision peacefulness, a serene atmosphere pervading all, because she knew that the mundane tasks of each moment were a necessary part of the whole. The meal of the day, the washing, the tidying and the clean-up of dishes ... everything had import and was approached as such. She simply did it because that is part of what the mother of Jesus needed to do.

This year, I will strive to be more Mary-like in my household tasks, approaching them with greater serenity and acceptance, knowing that all things have import and that my duties as a mother and a keeper of our home are a necessary part of the whole.

I imagine affection, warmth and laughter in the home of Mary, Joseph and Jesus. (I loved the scene in The Passion of the Christ in which Mary and Jesus are joking and laughing together about tables and chairs.)

This year, I'll thank God for all the laughter in our home, knowing He is the author of such joy, and I'll strive to find and hold on to the humor in those inevitable homeschooling days that crop up (you know ... the ones that will not, at first glance, seem to hold any humor.)

Mary's faith was bare and heroic, as Romano Guardini writes in this amazing article, reprinted at Godspy. Again and again, she had to endure pain and separation and yet her faith did not, could not, waver.

This year, in my life and walk with God, when I feel distance from Him, though I can't resolve to have such faith (as only God can grant it) I can resolve to pray for it, to ask to be more like Mary in my faith.

I doubt that Mary would have blogged ... she would have pondered my mostly pitiable musings in her heart, rather than blabbing them to the world. She pondered, she prayed, she listened.

This year, though I'm not sure I can resolve not to blog (or blab, as it were) since I'm still in the throes of infatuation with this stuff, I can resolve to continue pondering things in my heart, and ask the Lord to make the answers to my ponderings clearer to me. If God however, asked me to quit blogging, I would. He'd have to be very loud and clear about it, though.

Like Mary, I pray I'll be listening.