I Need a Mother God


Idelette McVicker -Mother God3

Right now, I need a Mother God.

I have three, four, maybe even five mothers. One birthed me, raised me and gave me a place of Love from which I could be released into the world. She has surrendered me to God and the work in the world I feel compelled to do. She has relinquished me, in Love.

A second mother saw me for who I could become. She called me out from the layers of confusion and self-doubt, bad judgment and bad choices and she called me onto my Path. Then she, too, relinquished me.

One has embraced me into her family, under her wing and her wisdom. I have watched her and learned much.

Another embraced me into her spiritual family—the garden that is church.

But lately, maybe these past few years, to be honest, I have longed for another Mother. I have longed for Someone to give me permission to stop working. I have longed for Someone to give me permission to rest. I have longed for a Mother who would see my life—ALL of my overflowing life and not just the parts I show the world—and see me in all of it and tell me, You have done enough.

I have longed for permission to just be.

I have longed for a Mother God to rise and stand with me and say, Enough. You have done enough. 

I have longed for the words of the Healer to rise in me and the Comforter to call me up on to her lap and tell me, Hush, Child, you have done enough.

I have missed Her voice.

I have longed for Mother God to say, You can’t set this world right, but I can.

I have never sat on my earthly dad’s lap, so to imagine Father God as God who invites me onto His lap, soothing me and comforting and telling me I have done enough, is hard.

So, for this season, I need a Mother God.

I have longed for this Mother God who both sees me and sees the world. A Mother God who holds me in her arms and rocks me, but also stands way back and cheers me on when I step out into destiny. I need this Mother God whose presence is Love. I need this Mother God who unleashes me to the world.

I am realizing the same things I long for us to be for each other in community, I long for God to be that for me.

Some nights, I just want a Mother God who tells me, You have done enough for today. 

At our Rise Up, Sister gathering in February, Fiona told us how she sings liberation lullabies to her children. All she did was insert a female pronoun into a familiar song, but that one word—that one shift—has re-calibrated  something in me.

Together we sang:

She’s got the whole world in her hands.

My life and my heart have been singing these words ever since. My heart is resounding with this message. She has the whole world in Her hands. O, yes, She does.

When I watched the movie, The Shack, I saw Octavia Spencer embody an image of God that was both gentle and strong, Love and beauty, soft and sassy, comforting and disorienting. She was all my mothers in one.

I could sit in that image of God—a gentle, wise place where there’s no earning, no striving, no performing—I could sit there and drop my shoulders and exhale and remember Love again.

More than anything right now, I need God to remind me that I am enough and I don’t need to earn love or strive to accomplish anything, or perform to any expectations.

Growing up, my mom used to sit at our yellow formica kitchen table and do her work. She would write curriculum or report cards and prepare lesson plans for her preschoolers. She would sit under the harsh fluorescent light and her presence to me was such calm.

With her, I didn’t need to do anything more. I was already so loved. In her presence, there was peace. I knew I didn’t need to do anything more to please her. She was already so pleased with me.

I need this Mother God right now. When the world is full of violence, war and competition, I need this Mother God who reminds me that She first loved us.

When there’s fear and anxiety all around, I need this Mother God who holds me in Love.
When the Accuser rises and yells at me, I need this Mother God to rise on my behalf.
When the Internet blows up, I need to see this God who is gentle and kind.
When I want to keep hustling, I need the Comforter to stop me and say, You’ve done enough for today.  You’ve done enough, Child.

I am starting to feel a deep shift in me. It’s like trying on a new wardrobe and singing a new song. It’s like God sitting at the yellow kitchen table of my life and I am finally beginning to truly know, O, how She loves us.