Hands

"Who would you be if you weren't my mother?"

This question haunts me. I have been struck by it since the day my darling, then 5 year old asked. I think it it has weighed on me because, while I do other things aside from being a mother, I do all of those things because I am a mother. Even my running came out of being a mother.

I have been going through my 30s in existential crisis mode. I struggle daily, weekly, monthly, yearly with the question "Who am I?" I exist in so many different worlds, that it is hard for me to find my one path. I am a teacher. I am a children and family minister. I am coach. I am an event planner. I am a runner. I am a friend. I am complicated. I am too much and I am not enough.

All of those things work together to make a broader me. The me that would still exist without any of the other parts. The 'me' that informs these other parts; the parts that would likely cease to exist without my 'me' that informs them. I am a mother. Being mother has so effectively informed every part of my life, that it has become such that I don't even know if those other parts of  'me' would still make up 'me' if I weren't a mother.

Initially, this question bothered me. It shook me to my core that I don't even know who I am if I weren't someone's mother. It bothered me that for 25 years of life, I was not mother. I then remembered that, even if I was not mother, I am still part of a larger community. I was then and am still a shepherdess at times, providing comfort and help to those in need. I am also part of a community and can receive guidance when I am in need. Even when I was not 'mother' and even now as 'mother' I belong to a community. Which brings me to a Godly Play story which I find comforting in times of existential crisis. I also find it comforting in a world that seems to have forgotten how to be in community with one another. 


There was once someone who said such amazing things and did such wonderful things that people followed him. They couldn't help it. People often asked who he was.  

Once when they asked him who he was, he said, "I am the Good Shepherd."

"I know each of my sheep by name. When I take them from the sheepfold they follow me. I walk in front of the sheep to show them the way."

"I show them the way to the good grass and I show them the way to the cool, still, fresh water."

 "When there are places of danger, I show them how to go through. I count each one as the sheep goes inside. If one of the sheep is missing, I would go anywhere to look for the lost sheep; in the grass, by the water, even in places of danger. And when the lost sheep is found I would put it on my back, even if it is heavy, and carry it back safely to the sheepfold. When all of the sheep are safe inside, I am so happy that I can't be happy just by myself, so I invite all of my friends and we have a great feast."

"The ordinary shepherd takes the sheep from the sheepfold, but does not show them the way. The sheep wander. When the wolf comes, the ordinary shepherd runs away, but the Good Shepherd stays between the wolf and the sheep and would even give his life for the sheep so they can come back safely to the sheepfold."

In this Godly Play story, we hear of a good shepherd. A shepherd that walks with us beside still waters, through brilliant green pastures, and also a shepherd that is a guide in times of great darkness or danger. I think it is important to note that the poetry of the Psalm tells us of a Shepherd who not only guides, but provides comfort; this story tells of a Good Shepherd who is gentle and kind. A shepherd who, no matter in what situation the sheep may find themselves, is there to comfort and guide. I imagine holding hands with the Shepherd as I am led through the best of times and the darkest of times. 

One of the questions we often ask after the story is, “Where do you find yourself in the story?” There is still another option though, what do you do in the times of darkness in which both of you are grasping into the air to find the hand of another shepherd. It is in these times that I implore you to stop. Breathe. And look, really, truly, and deeply look into your own hands. Thich Nyat Hanh says, “If  you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people”  Your community is in those hands. And each person you have touched hands with, you are sharing in something greater than you can imagine. Your hands start so young, so new, wanting to hold and love, and over time they develop wrinkles and spots, but those wrinkles and those spots show how you’ve grown. They show the lines of life. Life that can be messy, dark, joyous, fun, and full of surprise. And, in time, your hands will work to guide a new generation either through a family of your own or in the work you do. My prayer is that as your hands grow older, you will remember to hold each other in love.

We are also called to be the hands and feet of Christ in this world. Your hands can sow love where there was once none. Your hands can lift up others or tear them down. Hands can create, but hands can destroy. I ask that in moments where all seems lost, you look at your hands to see Christ in them. I ask that in moments where all is right with the world, you look at your hands to see Christ in them.  I ask that you find the Good Shepherd.

I have a final anecdote. Once I took my kids to a pumpkin patch with a haunted house. My oh-so-brave 6 year old at the time begged to go in. I  was worried he would be too frightened. We walked through and he said to me, “It’s dark and I’m scared, Mommy, can I hold your hand?” We held hands. With his hand grasped tightly around mine, very nearly cutting off circulation, we made it through the haunted house and he was all smiles in the end. You will experience scary moments in your life, but the hands of your partner, your family, your friends, your community, The Good Shepherd, are there to guide you, to comfort you. Your loved ones, your community are there for you and, likewise, you are there for them. Go and do life together, in whatever way 'together' makes sense to you. Remembering the simple beauty of a soft touch, a gentle squeeze, and a few wrinkles down the road, and remembering that your hands are joined forever together to do beautiful things—together.