Flooded with tenderness
This, too, shall pass. But You remain.
Welcome to the Mothering Spirit newsletter! Each Saturday morning, you’ll receive a round-up of the week’s posts—perfect for your weekend reading.
This week on Mothering Spirit
Marina Gross-Hoy stumbles upon the truth about her anger as a mother through the beauty of her own shadow:
"And all of a sudden, I was able to see myself from a slight distance. I saw a mother discovering her anger for the first time, like generations of mothers who had been here before. I saw a woman on the path of a human life, facing questions about what direction she wanted to take. I beheld her pain and her strength. And I was flooded with such tenderness."
Read the whole essay here: Shadow Revelations.
Miller Voigt offers a gorgeous poem-prayer that speaks to the shadow and light of ordinary moments of motherhood:
Inhale: their smoky tempers, all aflame, fiery and persistent in their desire
Exhale: calm and firm, consistent boundaries
Inhale: their sweaty anxieties, all wrapped up in things they don’t understand
Exhale: a peaceful presence, unwavering even in your own misunderstanding
Soak in the rest here: The Breath Prayer of Mothers.
We figured you might be able to use a collection of easy prayers for hard days. (Who are we kidding; we need this, too.) So we’ve rounded up some favorites:
Breath prayers for when you’re going to lose it
The Jesus Prayer
Honest prayers for parenting’s tough moments from Mothering Spirit writers
Find them here & save for when you need: Prayers for the Hard Days of Parenting.
From our sponsors
This week’s sponsor of Mothering Spirit is Give Us This Day, a monthly publication to help you pray each day. Want to win a free year’s subscription to deepen your prayer life, starting this Lent?
Check out this giveaway by following Mothering Spirit on Instagram and enter here by 2/13/23 to win. You can also request a free copy or try the app free for 30 days!
A final word for reflection
Here’s a perfect poem for every mother who’s ever lost her temper (which is all of us): “Nursery, 11:00 p.m.” by Robyn Sarah.