True mothers want more for their children than what they experienced. My prayer is that where I’ve known oppression, my children will know freedom and that my failures will serve to position them for success. Conversely, our mother’s heart hurts when we see the youth stray. Jesus expressed the sentiments of a mother’s heart for her children.
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! (Luke 13:34)
I believe God is inviting us to be godmothers who are mother protectors. When we arise, men, women, and children are protected. Goddaughters and godmothers, look around. What do you see?
Are there gaps?
Do you see warriors or infighting?
Are we fighting about what really matters?
Are we neglecting what really does?
Is it important that everyone knows what we are against? Rather than give opinions, it’s time to live the truth in love. Do you see the sons and daughters?
Have they lost hope and forgotten their royal name?
Are our villages vibrant with life?
Are the gates of our lives open or closed in fear?
What ground are we afraid to plant?
What lost territory are we afraid to take back?
Who is at risk if we do not find ways to close these breaches? Mothers see the problem and move quickly toward a solution.
Having a mother’s heart begins with blessing others in the very areas we once felt cursed. Being a mother is a willingness to pour out what was never poured into us. It is when we leave behind the titles of judge and prophet and open our arms to the very ones that may reject us. It is as simple as offering to walk alongside them.
I wish we could sit together for even ten minutes so I could better convey the urgency and privilege of this godmother mandate. As we sipped whipped cream–topped espresso, I would spread out before you the more than six hundred questions I’ve received from daughters who ranged from young single women to new brides to young mothers, ministers, and lonely, discouraged older women.
If espresso is not your thing, then you could come by later and I’d make you pasta. Side by side, we would review their earnest questions that run the gauntlet from marriage to ministry. Some inquiries are easy: What do you think about tattoos? I’m fine with tattoos; I have one myself. Other questions are much harder and probe deeper. Some have caused me to blink back tears. Some I don’t have answers for. This is where you come into the picture. They need you. I need you.