I have a picture in our bedroom, a rather large pastel drawing of the angel Gabriel as a woman. There is no picture of Mary, only the angel bending down and extending a lily to the woman beyond the picture. While I’m not concerned about angelic gender, I sensed the artist was saying that perhaps this particular angel could have appeared as a woman to announce a particular kind of motherhood, woman to woman.
The anemone, the flower most artists have put in this annunciation scene, was probably the most rich and bountiful wildflower in the fields and hillsides of Palestine. This flower was easily picked and offered up as a symbol of how much God loves the smallest of details, including, I think, our details, the times women grapple with best practices and ways to organize and embrace our messy selves and families (see Luke 12:27-31). Maybe each of us moms needs to embrace this angelic messenger who extends a lily, an invitation, a gift to remind us what is important when we embark upon a life of mothering.
Pondering accompanies joy. Yes, we know Mary rejoiced with her pregnant kin Elizabeth, singing that radical song, the Magnificat, a song not about what Mary’s child would do for her or about the maternal role he would give her, but what this child would be for others, for the whole world. I don’t see Mary as a passive figure; she’s a bossy momma. Mary is going to be there, to be present for her child on a very long journey, from birth announcement to ascension and beyond. From the beginning it’s not easy: a doubtful fiancé, a barnyard birth, even a nighttime escape to Egypt to protect the child from Herod (Matthew 2:13-15).
Imagine her thoughts the time young Jesus disappears. Mary can do without her son’s quiet departure from their large caravan when he treks all the way back to the temple in Jerusalem. After locating him, she looks her rabbinical prodigy in the face and says, “Son, why have you scared us to death? You listen to me! Your dad and I have been worried sick. We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” (Luke 2:48, my paraphrase) Mary says, “Excuse me, I’m not running a flophouse!” This is not the first or only time Mary’s son will brush her off and begin, as all children do, to claim their own calling.
When Mary’s host instinct kicks in at a wedding, she asks her son to do something about the wine, which is running low (see John 2:1-12). He balks, but I picture her pulling her son in a corner and saying, “Now you listen to me. This is about generosity and hospitality.” Boom. And maybe Mary was also thinking about how long she’d been waiting for him to show the world what he was born to do.
When Mary seems concerned about the crowd with which Jesus is associating, when she tries to bring him home from this open-door ministry, he announces within earshot that blood does not determine family. Jesus says that doing the will of God alone makes us family (see Matthew 12:48; Luke 8:21; and Mark 3:33). I bet she pondered that little zinger for quite some time. Oh how children can pierce your heart.
Still, I see Mary always near, as most mothers are, wondering how this story is going to end. Bless her. She’s there until the end and beyond. As her son is executed, she stands at the foot of his horrible cross. Jesus tells her she has a new son, who is the disciple standing next to her, and, amazingly, this beloved disciple has a new mother (see John 19:25-27). Mary gave her child life, and now he gives her a son.
Following Jesus’s death and resurrection, Mary is still there at the ascension of that child she once held in her arms. At this point, the story gets very personal. Letting go is hard work. Of course she knew he was going to grow beyond her. She’d been told from the very beginning that her son was going to be a gift to the world, but it’s different when the day to say good-bye finally arrives. She looks up into the sky, and it’s hard to look away, even after she can no longer see him, like the glow that follows after the flash of a camera. All that is left are two men clothed in white, who tell the followers it is time to move ahead together. So they make their way back to an upstairs room to pray and to wait for the Spirit of God to pour itself upon all people who might now, finally, understand one another and the meaning of one big God family.
And, in my imagination, Mary ponders again what has happened and what might happen next, as all responsible mothers do, always and forever. We ponder and wait and hope.
What we get is not always what we want, but what we most need is making it through the hard and fun stuff that happens in our families, that crazy, messy tangled ball of people who are learning to practice forgiveness, grace, and love. Over and over again we practice because it never goes according to plan. Thank God.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
MY CUP RUNNETH OVER BECAUSE GOD GAVE US A SQUAD
My family and this book would never have happened without the hilarity of a surprising God who has provided more hands than I have, more hope than I have, and more love than I have. My nice jeans have stylish holes in the knees from prostrate thanks for what and who has happened in our lives since Abraham and Sarah had Isaac (Laughter), then, in minute succession, Giggle, Snort, and Are You Kidding Me?
From the time Victor and I brought our triplets home, people we knew—and many we didn’t—came to our rescue. We survived and thrived because people loved us.
Husband, thank you for making my dreams come true. Without my cheerleaders, Sister Gayle and Friend Gayle, my sanity would be in question and this book would not exist. Without Friend Dale’s wisdom, I would wander in the wilderness.
Thank you forever.
And if I mistakenly left you off, I will be mortified when we next run into each other because I have manners.
Abingdon Team: Susan Salley for those first conversations. Dawn Woods and Susan Cornell for patience and direction.
The Squad
The fab schools and teachers
Judy Adams and crew
Terry and Gary* Barket (grace in the flesh)
Rhonda Bensen
Whitney Bordelon and family
Angie Bowden and Sarah Johnson (and Greenbay)
Nancy Campalans
Betty Chadduck (Suga, your hot fudge forever!)
Tom* and Frances Chaffin
Araya Charles
Lacey Chavez
The Congressional staffs of Vic Snyder, DC and Little Rock
Suzanne Coulter (Only you could teach the Razorback fight song.)
Dr. Lynn Davis
Jo DeWitt (through babies and fur . . .)
Renee and Dr. John Dickens
Kearney and Floy Jean* Dietz
Karen, Steve, and Sara Doty (Keep the cookies coming, Aunt Karen!)
Lindsey Eidt
Dr. Betty Everett
Paul and Gayle Fiser with Mabel Harris Webb* (not without prayer)
Gayle and Jerry Gardner (always faithful)
Kelly, Matt, and Joe Gardner
Lisa Ledbetter Gerhardt
Judy Gribble
Greer Griebel
Linda and Mollie Halbrook
Lawrence Hamilton*
Suzanne Hamilton
Ashley Haning
Maria and Ignacio Heurta
Dr. Charlotte Hobbs and Benjamin Robbins
Mark Hotchkiss
Dr. Cindy Hubach
Dixie Knight* (thanks for the memories)
Lynn Knight
Jill, Jack, and Caroline Lawrence
Nancy Ledbetter
Jon and Sandra Marbaise
Rev. Michael Mattox
Nancy McCulley
Catie Mitchell
Cindy and Chip Murphy
Marilyn Myatt
Kristin Vandaveer Nicholson
Bobbye Nixon
Paul and Becky Owen
Judy and Thomas Owens
Peeraya “Poom” Peters
Pulaski Heights UMC
Quapaw Quarter UMC
Dr. Chad Rogers and LR Pediatric
Carly Roitz and her parents
Dale Rowett
Kate, Mary, and Melinda* Sain (pedicures and Mexican food)
Becky and Steve Singleton (would never have made it without you)
Jack and Susie
Singleton (Saturdays and books)
Tom and D. Gayle Singleton (porches and more)
Dr. Kathy Smith and Kaitlin Smith Long
Charles Stanley
Anne Teeter
Trinity UMC
Linda Tullos
The United Methodist Church of the Resurrection
UAMS NICU and OB Staffs
Jo Lynn Varner
Shay Watson
Kim Whetstone
Amanda White
Lisa Baldridge Williams
Myron Yancey
Jan Zimmerman
Nancy Zotz, Jayme Moberly, and Chad Cornelius
*Friends we have lost and love
Baby triptych, one toddler, and the chart that kept us sane.
Dave Anderson/dbanderson.com
Yes, we have our hands full!
Photos above and below courtesy Dixie Knight Photography
A sweet and exhausting family photo shoot.
Visiting with Rep. Nancy Pelosi at the White House picnic.
The heavenly host was too bright for some.
Going hiking.
Cooking with Aunt Gayle.
Loving the great outdoors.
Dave Anderson/dbanderson.com
We wouldn’t change a thing, but there were a gazillion diapers.
Stepping on Cheerios Page 13