Mother Love

This chair in the Old Rectory in Epworth is believed to be one that belonged to Susanna Wesley herself.   The picture was taken on a warm July afternoon in 2017, a few days before what would have been my mother's 86th birthday. As the sun fell across the chair, bathing the seat in light and warmth, I thought it would be the perfect place for a cat to curl up for a nap.

I couldn't quite picture Susanna just quietly sitting there, though. When I think of her, I think of someone in a constant swirl of activity, rather like her son John, known to the family as Jacky.  If she wasn't teaching children, sewing and mending, supervising household affairs, or leading a prayer meeting, she was reading the Bible or some other spiritual or theological book, writing in her journal, or meditating on the things of God.   She worked as hard she could to "redeem" time from dressing, from unnecessary visits or trifling conversation, and even from eating and sleeping in order to devote her attention to Jesus in the midst of all her worldly business.  Her life was centered on Christ, and her goal was to lead, guide, and direct her children and anyone else in her orbit to the same goal.

There's a lovely flower garden there at the Old Rectory as well as a physic garden with medicinal plants and herbs like those mentioned by John in his little book of remedies called Primitive Physic.  I wonder if Susanna had flowers growing in the yard when she lived there.  Did she ever go outside and bury her face in their vibrant colors? Was she, like my mother, ever the recipient of a bouquet clutched in a child's grubby little hand?

This Sunday is Mother's Day here in the US, and it's always bittersweet for me. I love getting cards or visits or calls from my children, and I remember Mama with gratitude and joy even as I mourn for her. I am thankful that she, like Susanna, considered her role as mother a vitally important one in caring for her children's souls and teaching them the things of God. But I know it's a hard day for people who didn't or don't have a loving relationship with their mother, for those who longed in vain to be mothers, for mothers whose children have died, and for those of us whose mothers have died.  Marking this day during quarantine may make that even harder. It's hard to say.

Mothers exert a powerful influence on their children, and there is perhaps nothing as difficult as trying to be a good mother, trying not to compare yourself to somebody else, trying to balance tenderness with strictness and giving freedom with an expectation of obedience. Reading the rules by which Susanna reared her brood may make us wince at the firm line she took, but reading the letters exchanged between her and them reveals a loving heart and a desire for their good in all things. She didn't always get it right, nor do we, but we are all held in the arms of our God who is like a mother eagle, protecting and nurturing her young, even in the midst of a pandemic. For that, we may be eternally grateful.