Guest post by Sydney Willis, a scientist and a mother of one. She lives in Boston, MA USA.
I became a mother at the very beginning of the pandemic. While I had been seeking our Heavenly Mother for years, during this time of remote church and physical loneliness, I turned more toward my journey to come to know Her better. While I make no excuses and feel immense sorrow for the lack of Her presence in our church institution, I found beauty in having no person or institution define how I should come to know my Heavenly Mother. I was able to define the relationship on my own terms and I found, and still find, Her in the woods of New England.
When I imagine Heavenly Mother, I think she might smell sweet like freshly cut grass.
I think her hair is the color of soil–rich forest soil containing forests of microorganisms within a teaspoon.
Her eyes are a blueish gray–the color of a stormy sea.
She sounds like wind chimes and birdsong.
Her favorite color is probably green, which is why She created conifers to stay green year-round.
She must love beauty, because of the magnolia trees in mid-April.
She is fun, as she made robin eggs cyan and mourning doves with blue eyelids.
She is a little wild and probably always has dirt under her fingernails from mushroom hunting–I get this from her.
She isn’t afraid to be loud: I have heard the thunder and seen the lightning.
But she’s okay with being soft and still: I have felt the quiet that comes during a walk after a snowfall.
She always has a treasure in her pocket–and she would have pockets of course–from something she made, an acorn cap or a scarlet maple leaf, that was a little extra beautiful.
In her eyes, I will be able to see the North Star twinkling, as she is always keeping watch and leading us home to Her, even as the sky is getting darker.
I will know her because I know the earth.
I know Her cycles–from the moon phases to the seasons to the circle of life.
Because it is all a circle, I will eventually make it back to Her, just as winter will always turn to spring.
When I get back to Heaven, I will be wrapped in Her arms and it will feel like I am swimming in the sea. I will breathe in Her familiar sweet, earthy scent and say, “Oh Mother, I knew you never left me. You have been here all along.”
This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.
Wonderful. I read this as I sit at my desk in a steel and glass office building at a facility surrounded by literally acres of asphalt and concrete. From where I sit I can look out the window and see the most glaciated mountain in the contiguous United States. As the crow flies, I am two and a half miles from saltwater and 95 miles from the ocean. Yet how little time do I spend actually being at these marvels Mother Nature. Your post has moved me to go to the beach on my way home from work this evening.
So lovely. And this line made my pocket-loving heart swoon:
“and she would have pockets of course”
This poem is beautiful. Thank you.
Beautiful Sydney and honestly, exactly how I feel about Her too.