• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Mothering Spirit

everyday parenting as spiritual practice

  • About
    • About Laura
    • New Here?
    • Popular Posts
    • Contact Me
    • Privacy Policy
    • Insta-Links
    • My Newsletter
  • My Books
    • Grieving Together: A Couple’s Journey through Miscarriage
    • Prayers for Pregnancy & Birth
    • Everyday Sacrament: The Messy Grace of Parenting
    • To Bless Our Callings: Prayers, Poems, and Hymns to Celebrate Vocation
    • Living Your Discipleship: 7 Ways to Express Your Deepest Calling
    • Little Rock Scripture Studies
  • After Loss
    • what to do when a friend loses a baby
    • what to do for kids when their sibling dies
  • prayers for pregnancy
    • The Complete E-Books
    • Trying to Conceive
    • Month One
    • Month Two
    • Month Three
    • Month Four
    • Month Five
    • Month Six
    • Month Seven
    • Month Eight
    • Month Nine
    • Infertility
    • Miscarriage
    • Morning Sickness
  • Prayers for Parenting
  • For You
    • favorite resources for parents
    • faith resources for ministers
  • Show Search
Hide Search

childhood & creation: this sacred everyday

6 Comments

“Here is your ice cream cone,” he declares. Satisfied and soapy, he hands me a cup full of bubbles.

He eyes me intently, underneath wet curls.

“What flavor is it?” I know to ask.

The joy sparks: she sees it, too! 

“It is chocolate-ish strawberry vanilla. It is served in a cone and a dish.”

“You are KIDDING,” I gape. “That is my favorite flavor in the world.”

I slurp and snarf, devour the whole airy nothing in front of his damp beaming face, which dazzles into delight.

“Ah-ha!” he shrieks, splashing. “Yes! We will make some more.”

He is three years old. He knows what adults have forgotten. Make-believe and truth are both sides of imagination’s coin.

Creation is our work of everyday.

Here we are at bathtime. The Spirit still hovers over the water. Faucets are waterfalls, bubbles are beards, cups splash with soup, anything becomes a boat.

Too often adults are mere spectators, flimsy facsimiles of what it means to witness. Distracted by phones, anxious by un-dones, already rushing to the next, tired and dull.

We know; we do not wonder. The fire fizzled out.

We forget that the ordinary vibrates at a pitch only children can hear.

Who needs dinner – the train track to the North Pole is nearly finished! I didn’t hear you – we were building this rocket! You can’t move the cushions – that fort is the bears’ home and they need to sleep there tonight!

The day may start formless and empty, but lo – here comes the Holy again, moving upon the face of the deep. Then fiat: let there be light!

Imagination sizzles to spark and what we see as cluttered chaos is the beginning of fantastic and if we could just step back to behold the work – and them! the sweet sacred marvel of them! these impossible children, carbon and atoms and cells colliding to make toes and elbows, hands and brains spilling with ideas – our mature minds would explode if we could capture the possibility of everything, let alone sink to our knees and whisper thanks to the Almighty for the gifts of these children, this day, our life.

God saw that it was Good.

Behold is the best word, the way to wonder. Everything beloved is held within (childhood, too): awakening and awe, mystery and faith, hope and trust, incarnation and resurrection.

Behold the bathtime, sopping towels on the floor and twenty plastic toys left in the tub and water dripping down the walls again.

Behold the afternoon, grass-skidded knee stains and sweaty flushed cheeks and dirt-streaked kitchen, air electric in their wake.

Behold the winter, front door flanked with snowpant piles and soaking gloves and woolen hats curled up like grey wet dogs.

Behold the Saturday, table strewn with watercolors, board game dice, Lego pieces, marker tops, two baseball cards, one scratched CD.

Behold childhood. Behold creation.

Sing a new song as far as the note stretches for each one, fading so soon into adolescence, a modulated key, complex and challenging, harmony and discord, resolving someday into full adulthood, legato long and rich if we are lucky.

But even the smoothest sweet cannot compare to that bright beginning. The first few notes when anything is possible.

When all the world is wonder. Each bathtime long enough to launch a thousand ships.

“Every genuine inspiration…contains some tremor of that ‘breath’ with which the Creator Spirit suffused the work of creation from the very beginning. Overseeing the mysterious laws governing the universe, the divine breath of the Creator Spirit reaches out to human genius and stirs its creative power…the human being is able to experience in some way the Absolute who is utterly beyond.” (St. John Paul II, Letter to Artists. With thanks to Katrina.)

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)
  • Click to print (Opens in new window)
  • Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)

Related

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Sarah says

    3 January 2018 at 8:44 am

    This post gave me a few pangs of guilt and regret because I really feel like I have lost that imagination that I had as a child. My almost 5 year old is completely immersed in that pretend play stage, and he frequently asks me to join him. But I get caught up in the stuff that needs to be done and the management of my 4 young ones’ needs including infant twins. I feel like I have forgotten how to play like he does; in fact I remember losing my interest in those sort of games when I was an early teen. Thank you for reminding me how important it is. I wish I could find a way to make that ability to imagine come back. What do you do when it doesn’t come naturally anymore?

    Reply
    • motheringspirit says

      3 January 2018 at 10:02 am

      RIGHT there with you, Sarah. It has felt like gritting teeth lately whenever my kids ask me to play. I always have a thousand things to do, running behind, overwhelmed, etc. Sometimes I have to physically stick my phone/computer in another room and just make myself sit down with them, ignoring the clutter/dinner/dishes for ten minutes and just work on being present with them. Even five minutes of make-believe brings the spark back to their eyes, I find. And then I can stretch it to ten another day – like prayer or exercise, the experts always say a little is better than nothing!
      I think it helps to find whatever part of play you love and encourage connecting with them there, too. I love drawing or coloring with them, so I don’t mind doing imaginative art stuff with kids. Playing pretend with toys isn’t my fav but I try to play along a little when they invite me.
      Also, it helps me to name when we’re in a season of surviving vs. thriving. Pregnancy is pure survival for me because I’m so sick. I can do nothing but the bare minimum, and I have no energy for playing with them. But now that our youngest is 5 months old, I’m starting to see that we are emerging into what could be a season of thriving. Knowing that right now won’t last forever is a lesson I’m constantly learning. And when you have your proverbial hands full, it’s important to know that this week/month/year is only a sliver of their childhood.
      Peace & prayers to you!

      Reply
  2. Judith says

    3 January 2018 at 10:48 am

    Oh I want this so much. I enjoyed it immensely the first time round d. I ask for your prayers on conceiving anothebeautiful baby to nurture and watch them grow in awe and wonder! Much love and thanks xx

    Reply
  3. Eileen says

    8 January 2018 at 5:50 pm

    Love this. I’ve been much too distracted by my phone lately. Working on changing that and being more involved in their play and wonder.

    Reply
  4. Juliette says

    16 July 2018 at 1:06 pm

    I’m weeping joyful tears over here! I’ve been an early childhood educator for 10 years and had my first baby 6 weeks ago! You so beautifully articulated what we attempt to do in toddler classrooms everyday: be fully present and immerse ourselves in the wonder that children find in everyday tasks. Although my own baby is not quite old enough for these experiences yet, I’m finding immense joy in just gazing upon the amazing creation that he is! The moments in my day feel so much more sacred when I truly take the time to be present with my son (in all his happy, fussy, or sleepy times). I especially appreciate all your prayers for newborns; thank you for your words. They’ve helped make this grace filled time in my life even more beautiful!

    Reply
    • motheringspirit says

      20 July 2018 at 10:04 am

      Beautiful! Thank you so much, mama!

      Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Primary Sidebar

About Laura

I’m Laura Kelly Fanucci. Mother, writer, wonderer. This space is where I explore mothering through writing. It’s where I celebrate how God shows up in the chaos of raising children. It’s where I love to build community with readers like you. Read More…

Follow Laura

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
Laura Kelly Fanucci
Books by Laura Kelly Fanucci
e-books by Laura Kelly Fanucci

Mothering Spirit Newsletter

Henri Nouwen quote

From the Archives

Footer

Follow Me on Facebook

Follow Me on Facebook

Follow me on Twitter

Tweets by laurakfanucci

Follow Me on Instagram

thismessygrace

thismessygrace
If our daughters had lived, we never would have pl If our daughters had lived, we never would have planted this garden. 

There are pockets of beauty in my life today that could not have existed if they had survived.

Acknowledging this does not mean I accept their loss. Or that I wouldn’t trade it all to have them here instead.

But the grieving know this strange, stubborn, saving truth: that goodness can grow in the gaping holes left by the ones we love.

I don’t know any simple ways to make sense of the hard times in which we’re living. As a porous soul, I feel it all and it breaks my heart, even as I cling to what I know is true.

But loving and losing my girls has taught me that life is both heart-breaking and resilient, that surviving is more complicated than we suspect, that most people are walking around shattered beneath the surface.

Sometimes I can catch a glimpse of it, searing as sunlight: the grief in someone’s eyes behind their anger, the burden sagging their shoulders, the past that’s poisoning their present. Few things have transformed my life more than learning to recognize pain in others.

Grief is a long letting go of a life you thought you’d have. Most of us are carrying more of it than we realize—or remember when we’re dealing with each other (especially when we’re tearing each other down).

Go gentle today. Practicing compassion and generosity of spirit will crack open more of the world and its confounding struggles. You might lose the satisfying clarity you clung to before life broke your heart in complicated ways, but you will find more of God in the messy, maddening middle.

I have learned this much from the garden I never planned to plant, from a version of life I never dreamed.
Nearly 20 years ago (!) these crazy kids graduated Nearly 20 years ago (!) these crazy kids graduated from Notre Dame. Now we’re thick in the midst of life-with-kids, celebrating middle school & preschool & everything in between. 
 
Since June is a month for graduations & celebrations, I’m delighted to help you celebrate with @grottonetwork .

Grotto Network shares stories about life, work, faith, relationships, and more. Check out their videos, podcast, and articles to help you reflect on where you are in your journey.
 
Grotto Network has generously given 2-$100 gift cards to Bloomin’ Brands Restaurants (Outback, Carrabba’s, Bonefish Grill & more) to help you celebrate this month with friends & family! It’s a huge giveaway, because we all need to savor and celebrate whatever joy we can find these days.
 
To enter the giveaway, follow @grottonetwork and @thismessygrace and leave a comment below about what you’re celebrating this month. Tag a friend for extra entries (up to 3).
 
Rules: Open to the U.S. only. Entries will be accepted until 6/11/22 at 11:59 pm CT. The 2 winners will be chosen at random and announced on 6/12/22. Per Instagram rules, this promotion is in no way sponsored, administered, or associated with Instagram, Inc. By entering, entrants confirm that they are 13+ years of age, release Instagram of responsibility, and agree to Instagram's terms of use.
“How did you do this?” I want to ask her. “H “How did you do this?” I want to ask her. “How did you let your heart break a thousand times?”

I want to call my mother and ask her impossible questions, to probe her heart that held five children and let each of us go in the hardest ways. But I know what she will say, “It’s hard. But you’re doing a beautiful job.” She can’t give words to the deepest yearnings and groanings. None of us can.

I wish I could ask my grandmothers, each of them gone for decades now, each of them matriarchs who raised big broods of their own. I never got to know them as an adult, but I have heaps of questions: How did you do it? How did you not lose yourself or your way? Or did you, and that was precisely the point?

I want a whole book of answers to impossible questions, and none exists. So I send my thoughts to the mothers of faith whose short stories, mere snippets on pages, have sparked small lights to guide me along. To Sarah and Ruth, Hagar and Rachel, Mary and Elizabeth. Every unnamed anguish the holy ones carried, every treasure of love they held in their heart.

Is it any coincidence that birth often brings both cries and screams, laughter and joy?

We hold it all within us. We cannot give words to the enormity of what it means to mother.

I sit outside a coffee shop two blocks from my children’s school on a sunny afternoon, the last day of the year. I wipe away tears for the natural nostalgia, but I also feel the gutting grief welling up from my own wounds of motherhood to know a deeper truth: marking milestones with love and longing is nothing compared to the gaping loss of not having your child here to break your heart in a thousand tiny ways.

So I resolve again, a hundred times again, to let this vulnerability become the strength that keeps me fighting for all children to have what I want for my own: life, love, health, safety, support, opportunity, community, hope. This is how parenting asks us to change. To let the particulars of our lives stretch us to love more widely.

I once thought “to mother” meant to have and to hold.

Now I know it also means to let go.
Many of you asked me to save these suggestions I s Many of you asked me to save these suggestions I shared after the school shooting in Uvalde.

Remember: we can’t do everything, but we can each do something.

Just because we can’t eradicate evil overnight doesn’t mean we can’t take small strong steps toward change.

Any work for justice and peace is long and hard. But we can build this work into our daily lives in concrete ways.

Look at the children in your life. What would you do to keep them safe and alive?

Start there. Let your life and love lead you.
When women meet, the world changes. Today is the When women meet, the world changes.

Today is the Feast of the Visitation. A day when we remember the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth.

Two women pregnant with new life, blooming with prophetic power.
Two mothers called to change the world.

What would happen if we gathered together like this today?
How could the world change if we made Mary’s song our own?

“He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.”
(Luke 1:51-53)

Imagine if we stayed in this holy space—not for a moment’s meeting, but for months together—to gestate the dreams God was waiting to birth through us.

Imagine if we let ourselves be filled with the Holy Spirit to shout out with loud cries.
Imagine if we lifted our souls with prayers of justice and joy.

Imagine if we gave each other strength and service, courage and compassion, as we kept asking how to answer God’s call in our ordinary lives.

When women meet, the world changes.

If you want to know how to fight for justice for your children, for your people, for this world, look to the Visitation.

The mothers will show us the way. They already have.

(Image from the “Windsock Visitation” by Br. Mickey McGrath, OSFS, commissioned for the Monastery of the Visitation in north Minneapolis.)
Here’s what I wish I would have heard preached t Here’s what I wish I would have heard preached today on the Ascension.

Right now is a time to be prophetic and pastoral, a time for each of us to ask how God is calling us to act.
Load More... Follow Laura on Instagram

Copyright © 2022 Laura Kelly Fanucci · site customizations by Jamie Jorczak

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. Please click "accept" to keep reading. You can opt-out if you wish.Accept Reject Read More
Privacy & Cookies Policy

Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary
Always Enabled
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Non-necessary
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
SAVE & ACCEPT