Holy Week and Motherhood

"I don't even know why I come here anymore!" This was said to me by an exasperated young mother, who was in the nursing room at Mass a few weeks ago. My heart went out to her, and I reassured her that we have all been there. As we are now in the throes of Holy Week, I have been thinking about motherhood and our role during this sacred time.

There was a time in my life, only a few years ago, when Holy Week was simply amazing! Everything came to a stand still on Holy Thursday and the Triduum was kept with solemnity, prayer, fasting, quiet and then feasting and rejoicing on Easter.

This Holy Week is shaping up to be a bit different. Where there was once quiet, we now have tears and the occasional tantrum. Where there was fasting, there is now the necessity of calorie intake on account of the baby who seems to be feeding constantly. Prayers are said for peace in the home and that those little teeth would please break the surface so that the pain would stop for the poor baby (and the mommy!) And if the truth be told, the Holy Week services are not exactly something we all look forward to anymore. We will spend those times with small prayers, while we trying to keep the fidgeting down to a minimum and attempt (once again) to make it through a Mass without having to nurse.

Be that as it may, in response to the statement, "I don't know why I come anymore," the answer is because we have been asked to be faithful. Holy Week, and Mass in general, are not about us. Do I "get" anything out of Mass anymore? Yes, always. I always receive grace, I don't always leave with "warm fuzzies." But going to Mass is not about me. It is about being faithful and saying, "Here I am Lord, I come to do Your will." And for mothers, that is not always an easy task.

We are having a particularly difficult week here. So my Holy Week reflections have to be found in the little things I do everyday. Every time we mothers, dry a tear, kiss a bruise, lovingly cut-up food, patiently sit while our babies nurse, read the same story for the hundredth time, have another conversation with our toddlers while we are in the shower (even though we really want to be there alone!), spend the whole night holding and comforting a baby when we have just done so all day, we are entering into Holy Week. I may not be able to be "fully there" for the services, but I can here in my home. Maybe my Holy Weeks now are about taking the time to really love my family to the last ounce of my strength and to give that up. Try to truly give this week until it hurts and to do it lovingly and even joyfully. Then at Mass, when we are only there in body, because we have been up all night, we can simply rock our babies in the pew (or in the nursing room) and let His grace wash over us.

Our Holy Weeks are not less than they used to be. No, they are more. We understand now, what we didn't before. We know how to love and sacrifice in ways we never imagined possible. And still, we know that His love and sacrifice were and are so much more. This Holy Week can still be the best one of my life (as a priest used to remind his parishioners every year.) I just have to allow it to be different than before and to cherish those differences. I need to be open to the reception of grace, even when I am not sitting in the pew. He knows I am there and why I am there. I am loving Him with every ounce I can muster. And I know that this brings joy to His Sacred Heart. That is why we mothers come. We come to love Him through our faithfulness.