Mother Mary, pray for us.

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom. And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom.

I don’t know if Paul McCartney actually had a relationship with Jesus or Mary, but the first few lines of Let It Be are poignant, regardless.

Women of today need the wisdom of Mary.

It’s a bit difficult to sell this point, I admit, to those who haven’t become her friend already. The “meek” quality of her example, so often highlighted in the Christmas story, which is the only exposure some people have to her, can be off-putting to modern women. But maybe it’s not the meekness that we need to imitate these days, at least not primarily.

What we need is the way she believed she could do what God made her to do, without being in control of what that was. The acceptance without grasping. The love without restraint. The trust without limit—in God’s goodness—from the moment of the annunciation to the moment of the crucifixion to the moment of Pentecost. The unwavering confidence that God and good will win; the knowledge that she would crush the serpent’s head; the faith that her trust would be rewarded with triumph. The understanding that her own worth came from her identity in God—in being loved by Him—not from the opinion of her held by her peers, family, or society—not because of anything she did, but because of Him Who made her. Her unselfish response to grace offered. Her unfearful fiat (“let it be done”—Luke 1:38) to do her part, even though it looked a lot different, a lot less normal, than the parts those around her would be doing.

She is meek, but she is also bold. She had the boldness to say Yes to God’s plan. That’s what women today need.


The brokenness of our world, the “culture of death,” the pushing aside of our “feminine genius,” the desperate cry of women to be known and loved and intrinsically valued—all of this is shouting out for my attention lately. And my heart is so heavy about it.

What can I even do? I have two very young daughters, and I don’t want them to experience all this brokenness firsthand! I want them to trust in God’s promises wholeheartedly, and embrace His plans for them. I can do my best to exhibit my faith and model for them and facilitate their faith. But even if I succeed with them, they are only two of millions of girls growing up in this confusing time. Not to mention the millions of women who already grew up but are still navigating it. What chance does my concern, or my charity, or my desire to do something—to help show my sisters in Christ their true worth and nature—have against such an overpowering current?

All I can really do is try to say my small “Yes” to God’s will for me, faithfully, daily. Some days I fail epically. But I have to try again tomorrow, or the current of the times absolutely will sweep me, and my daughters, and my friends away. If I let myself become numb to it, I’ll sink into it. So I’m letting myself feel the sadness, and I’m sharing that feeling with you.

And then I’m looking up to our Mother Mary, and past her to our Lord Jesus, and with Him at heaven where God will wipe away every tear from my eyes.

Suffering is real, but we don’t have to run from it. Jesus did not promise that the world would be comfy, only that He has overcome the world. He did not promise that our every wish would be granted, but that He will fulfill the deepest desires of our hearts, which He put there to begin with, which we might not be digging deep enough to discover, which we can’t grasp at to fulfill by ourselves, even if we have discovered what they are.

Like Mary, we must trust in Him to keep His promises. Like Mary, we must say Yes to His plan—not to our plan of how to carry out His will, but His. Like Mary, we must believe that we were created by God and that when He sees His creation He will pronounce over us, in spite of our personal failings and our as yet unmet expectations, “She is good.”

Miscarriages and moves have been the things I’ve been most reluctant to give my Yes to. These are times when I’ve been asked to exhibit radical trust in Him. I could have shut down and sought comfort from the ways of the world. I could have said No to God and fought to take control of the situation myself. But I have chosen to say Yes. Now I look backwards at them with a serenity that should have been impossible to feel. It can only have been grace that got me here.


The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:5


Canticle of Mary
My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done good things for me,
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel,
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
the promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children forever.
Luke 1:46-55

6 thoughts on “Mother Mary, pray for us.

  1. Did you write this for me?

    “What we need is the way she believed she could do what God made her to do, without being in control of what that was. The acceptance without grasping. The love without restraint.”

    I have never felt so out of control as I have these last few months. I am learning to move over and let God do the driving…without asking “Are we there yet?” “Where are we going?” “How long before we get there?” “Can I drive?” “Can we stop here?” “Why don’t you just tell me where we are going?” And again, “Are we there yet?” It’s tough to just sit back and ACCEPT that I am NOT driving and that I do NOT know the plan. All I know is that there is joy along the way, if I choose to look for it.

    Elizabeth, I love you so much. Your blog posts are truly meaningful to me. And usually quite timely. Thank you. <3

    AJ

    1. Love you, AJ. It *is* hard! I had a lot of different specific situations on my mind while writing this. Yours definitely fits.

  2. This is full of things to ponder and in perfect timing with my church group reading a book about The Magnificat.

    We had a great discussion Thursday night and if you don’t mind I want to share this blog post with them. Love you and miss you.

  3. Oh, this is so good. The brokenness, the chaos of being a woman in todays world, and what the world tell us what we have to do to fix it. It weighs on my heart with 2 daughters as well. I’m so thankful to have read this! It puts my heart at ease.

    1. Oh my I am just now seeing your comment, apologies for my delay! But YES! I need to revisit these reassurances myself too.

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