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.