rachel twelmeyer


Mother Wove the Morning

I’m in a play.

It’s about a female Goddess; a feminine Divine; a Heavenly Mother.

I didn’t ever think I cared very much about having a Heavenly Mother. It wasn’t something that ever kept me up at night, or gave me pause. But now it feels like the whole world has opened up to me.

I am a passionate advocate for women. I see our role as essential and beautiful, full of endless power. But we also have a dilemma: how exactly do we gauge our value? What is it that we’re meant to do? What is our contribution? Our sisters through the ages have battled to be seen as worthwhile, equal, whole. And we’re still fighting. Yet I wonder whether we are getting any closer to resolving the essential question of what will satisfy our souls, and how to still the center.

With this in mind, I have found a little pocket hollowed out where my Mother should be. I have found that as I look to her, a brand new world comes into focus, a world in which equal partnership, empathy, tenderness, vitality, and grace have a home and a face. I think we need our Mother to navigate this world, to help us understand that we are singularly cast in the mold of someone wonderful and loving. And I feel more strongly than anything that when we find our strength and the merit of all that we are and can become, we will find peace.

I have also come to realize that Jesus is my Mother’s son and I trust that He is like Her, as I am like Her, and that all He did was so I can become like Her and return to Her.

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