“There is the Mother,” He whispers in my ear.

I’ve been sitting beside her for 40 years, coming and going, looking for her, crying to her, wondering where she had gone and all along she was right there.  Right in front of me, in all her majesty and glory beautifully displayed.

I see the ships in the harbor gently rocking, the way I rock my babies, and I see her, the Mother, rocking, swaying, gently soothing. Then He unfolds what I have missed.  I remember the scripture, ‘you have eyes but you do not see, ears, but you do not hear’.

“She is the keeper of depths,” He says, “depths no one knows but her”.

“She has a rage and a fury that can swallow up whole cities, and yet she has a warm engulfing comfort where the weary can float.”  I need to float, I think to myself.

“She is full of life.  Always giving birth, always sustaining her own – containing, holding, and covering what is hers.  Many come to see her, to rest in her comfort.  And she welcomes them, though most of them never see her even while swimming at her edges,” He says.  Then, as if remembering, He smiles, “children always see her and scream with delight.  They race to her, dive in soak up all her colors.  Waves, they see as big as mountains, but in truth are her gentle ripples, they ride into the shore, running back out to ride in again and again.”

“She is able, and though most know that truth, they forget.  Rarely does she remind them.  When you need her she is there.  When you think you don’t need her, she is there.  She never leaves.  Never,” He tells me.   I am comforted by this, wanting to know of something that needs nothing from me and yet will never leave me.

“She is a passage way to new life, new places, new freedoms, to newness,” He whispers, just as you are for your daughters.”  “And she is also the way back home.”

“The world built itself around her, that’s what people do – husbands and children, they build themselves around the mother.  She holds no resentment.  This is her role, her calling, her reason for existing.  She is happy to be what she is- knowing worlds will be built around her and worlds will live within her.”  In this He reminds me to be fully who I am, to remember the power of collecting no debt, but loving freely.

“The Mother never says, ‘you owe me’,” He whispers.  I understand.  There are places in  me that feel owed.  As I hear Him, I know I must set those places free.

“She is contained.  I contain her,” He says.

“There is more, much more,” He tells me.

I know after our time together I am to go to her when I need replenishing.  When I am tired and sad and weak, she will be waiting.  As I shake the sand out of my towels and off of my shoes, I hear her behind me, like breath, her tide comes in and her tide goes out, in perfect rhythm.  (I laugh, thinking how my music parter wishes I were more like her -when it comes to playing in time.  I speed up and slow down.  She does not.  She is steady.)

Even as I walk away, I know she is behind me and before me.  I know who she is, because He told me.  He whispered and I listened.  I know I will be back to see her.  I know months from now, I’ll find a little sand at the bottom of one of my bags.  It will just be her reminding me that she is there and will always be there.

I smile.  Until next time, Mother.

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