On mother’s day I rise early to ask the viola’s how they slept. To see the marigold & verbena shining velvety with morning dew. To ask the snapdragon & the daisy if they have enough room. I listen to the chatter of the birds singing glory to the maker of the morning (as they do every day) without question without fail. I think of how the earth knows better than I do how to receive the love of a God who is both Father & Mother— words I am only just learning how to say. In the morning light this day does not feel tangled up as I know some (perhaps most) people feel it to be. Here there are no mothers abandoning their children. Here there are no empty wombs. Here there are no harsh words spoken with anything less than utterly devoted love. Here there are no tiny graves; no buried children of any age. Here no arms ache for the love they used to hold. Here there are no women deceived or forced into life’s most terrible choice. Here there is only dew on fresh flower faces & light & grace & the God who says he loves us— like a mother hen longing to gather us beneath protective wings— like a nursing mother who cannot forget the son of her womb because of the ache in her breasts— the nourishment she must pour out she cannot keep it to herself. And perhaps what I want to celebrate today is not me; someone privileged to be a mother to earthly children; who holds five hearts in her hands like the abundance she knows she doesn’t deserve. A kindness to which she is neither entitled nor guaranteed. Perhaps instead I want to celebrate like the birds the King of Creation— the God of the morning— who loves me like the child that I still am. Who loves me so much it would hurt to turn away. Who loved me to the point of death & life again. The Mother God who is even now preparing for me a feast of welcome & celebration when I have done all my wanderings in these shadowed lands. I catch glimpses of this & more in the shining dew dropped faces of the violas in sunshine. In the tears I know our truest father & mother sheds for the ache of us all.