Motherhood and Spirituality
Over the years I have reflected often on being a mother and being in ministry ... as well as even deeper issues of how to sustain any kind of faith while also mothering small children.
These culminated in my 'Synthesis' for the Presbyterian church ministry training programme, which is here if you want to look at it. Warning - it is quite long!
These culminated in my 'Synthesis' for the Presbyterian church ministry training programme, which is here if you want to look at it. Warning - it is quite long!
| synthesis_purdie.doc |
Thoughts on Motherhood and Spirituality
(an article published in the Playcentre Journal, 2002)
Silvia Purdie
“It isn’t possible!” my friend exclaimed with a laugh, when I told her I was writing about motherhood and spirituality. “They just don’t go together. There’s no space for spirituality when you’re a Mum. I’m too busy, too tired!”. This is true for many women, and can feel a real loss. But it’s not the end of the story. It can’t be. Spirituality is too essential, too much a vital part of being human, to forget about while we care for small children.
So what do I mean by ‘spirituality’? How does it fit with motherhood? Here are three questions for a start.
1) What nourishes you?
Spirituality is what restores us, re-energises us. What helps you feel like yourself again, not just Mum? Maybe it’s time away from your kids; having a shower, a walk by yourself, a good book, time with a friend. Maybe it’s time with your kids, throwing stones in the river, having a bath all together. The activity doesn’t matter. What is important is a quality of being fully present in what you are doing. Being focused and relaxed, even for just a little while, lets us breathe more deeply. It is an important antidote to the stress of parenthood, which often involves doing half a dozen things simultaneously!
2) Why bother?
A huge amount of parenthood is mundane, boring, repetitive, even down-right unpleasant. I mean, you’d have to be seriously weird to enjoy changing pooey nappies every day for years on end! So why do we do it all? I believe that it helps a lot to have a clear sense of purpose and value for the job of caring for small children.
It’s easy to sound trite saying things like “Motherhood is the most important thing you will ever do”, as we juggle several roles in our lives. And society contradicts that with the expectation that you’ll get a ‘real job’, and that earning money is what counts most. Working out for yourself what being a parent means and why it matters is a fundamentally spiritual process. It’s all about our values, how we see ourselves and our lives. Are you putting your life on hold while you bring up your kids? How might you feel differently if you truly believed that being a parent is a calling from God, a sacred trust, the most incredible opportunity? … that because of your love and care for this child the human race will never be the same again!?
3) What nurtures love?
This is the big, the ultimate, spiritual question. It’s the real God Stuff. What helps you to feel loved? What increases your capacity to love others?
Part of the answer is being grateful. It’s a habit, a determination, not just something you feel when everything’s great. In our family, we hold hands before the evening meal and say ‘thank you’ to God for all sorts of things: a special friend, the rain, something funny that happened that day. A commitment to gratitude helps us see the silver lining of the darkest cloud. It helps us mix a good dose of affection in with things that we feel angry or sad about. If it’s the only prayer you make, ‘thank you’ is enough.
There are other habits of love, too, like remembering to touch, to hug, to smile, to praise, to acknowledge even the smallest achievement and good intention, to take time to do nothing together. And sometimes to remember that God is pouring love all over us, all the time, completely accepting us, making all things new.
Spirituality is about being fully alive. Mums deserve that and need that as much as anyone.
Silvia Purdie lives with her husband and 3 boys in Wainuiomata, Lower Hutt, where she is part of Wood Hatton Playcentre.
Mothering and Faith
SPANZ article
14 June 2001
I shouldn’t be writing this. I should be attacking the vast pile of dirty dishes we made today, or extracting the instant noodles and blobs of pink jelly from the carpet under the table. I really should be going to bed early, as no doubt the 1-year-old will be wide awake at 6am. Again.
But I can’t let this question go – ‘Can you be a Mum, and be spiritually alive?’ Surely it must be possible. But there’s no time, no peace or stillness, only caring and cleaning, chasing kids, and feeling tired. Worship is just a distant memory of glory and peace. Church is now a baby minding operation, mainly concerned with preventing 2 lively boys from running/yelling/pulling/crying and stuffing it up for everyone else.
Sometimes I grasp it for a moment. If the boys are preoccupied with a container of chocolate chips, and quiet, I might be able to forget about them, forget I’m a Mum, and just be Silvia, and stand, for just a moment, in the presence of God. Nothing spectacular happens, but it is nice.
So how can I be a Mum, be with my children, and worship God?
There’s another way, one we don’t talk much about, but it is what keeps my faith alive. It is my knowing that a toddler peeking out between the legs of the lecturn is saying more about God than the minister’s sermon. It is my awe at watching the child in my arms solemnly take and eat the communion bread, one arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders. It is my sense of privilege to be so close to such pure, direct expressions of God. So you could say that I worship through my children, allowing them to be sacrament for me.
And then the sacred moment is passed, and we have to find the toilet, or whatever. There’s nothing like little children for bringing you down to earth, back to basics. The God who speaks through them is a God of incredible direct love, a running body-slam hug kind of love. This is a God who knows and is known through bodies, hunger that hurts, the sheer delight of a warm bath, the grime and slime of everyday life. This is a God who couldn’t care less whether your socks match, or how many reports you write, but adores you absolutely. This is a God who laughs and laughs at bursting bubbles, who treasures worms, and special moments, and even me.
The dishes can wait.
(an article published in the Playcentre Journal, 2002)
Silvia Purdie
“It isn’t possible!” my friend exclaimed with a laugh, when I told her I was writing about motherhood and spirituality. “They just don’t go together. There’s no space for spirituality when you’re a Mum. I’m too busy, too tired!”. This is true for many women, and can feel a real loss. But it’s not the end of the story. It can’t be. Spirituality is too essential, too much a vital part of being human, to forget about while we care for small children.
So what do I mean by ‘spirituality’? How does it fit with motherhood? Here are three questions for a start.
1) What nourishes you?
Spirituality is what restores us, re-energises us. What helps you feel like yourself again, not just Mum? Maybe it’s time away from your kids; having a shower, a walk by yourself, a good book, time with a friend. Maybe it’s time with your kids, throwing stones in the river, having a bath all together. The activity doesn’t matter. What is important is a quality of being fully present in what you are doing. Being focused and relaxed, even for just a little while, lets us breathe more deeply. It is an important antidote to the stress of parenthood, which often involves doing half a dozen things simultaneously!
2) Why bother?
A huge amount of parenthood is mundane, boring, repetitive, even down-right unpleasant. I mean, you’d have to be seriously weird to enjoy changing pooey nappies every day for years on end! So why do we do it all? I believe that it helps a lot to have a clear sense of purpose and value for the job of caring for small children.
It’s easy to sound trite saying things like “Motherhood is the most important thing you will ever do”, as we juggle several roles in our lives. And society contradicts that with the expectation that you’ll get a ‘real job’, and that earning money is what counts most. Working out for yourself what being a parent means and why it matters is a fundamentally spiritual process. It’s all about our values, how we see ourselves and our lives. Are you putting your life on hold while you bring up your kids? How might you feel differently if you truly believed that being a parent is a calling from God, a sacred trust, the most incredible opportunity? … that because of your love and care for this child the human race will never be the same again!?
3) What nurtures love?
This is the big, the ultimate, spiritual question. It’s the real God Stuff. What helps you to feel loved? What increases your capacity to love others?
Part of the answer is being grateful. It’s a habit, a determination, not just something you feel when everything’s great. In our family, we hold hands before the evening meal and say ‘thank you’ to God for all sorts of things: a special friend, the rain, something funny that happened that day. A commitment to gratitude helps us see the silver lining of the darkest cloud. It helps us mix a good dose of affection in with things that we feel angry or sad about. If it’s the only prayer you make, ‘thank you’ is enough.
There are other habits of love, too, like remembering to touch, to hug, to smile, to praise, to acknowledge even the smallest achievement and good intention, to take time to do nothing together. And sometimes to remember that God is pouring love all over us, all the time, completely accepting us, making all things new.
Spirituality is about being fully alive. Mums deserve that and need that as much as anyone.
Silvia Purdie lives with her husband and 3 boys in Wainuiomata, Lower Hutt, where she is part of Wood Hatton Playcentre.
Mothering and Faith
SPANZ article
14 June 2001
I shouldn’t be writing this. I should be attacking the vast pile of dirty dishes we made today, or extracting the instant noodles and blobs of pink jelly from the carpet under the table. I really should be going to bed early, as no doubt the 1-year-old will be wide awake at 6am. Again.
But I can’t let this question go – ‘Can you be a Mum, and be spiritually alive?’ Surely it must be possible. But there’s no time, no peace or stillness, only caring and cleaning, chasing kids, and feeling tired. Worship is just a distant memory of glory and peace. Church is now a baby minding operation, mainly concerned with preventing 2 lively boys from running/yelling/pulling/crying and stuffing it up for everyone else.
Sometimes I grasp it for a moment. If the boys are preoccupied with a container of chocolate chips, and quiet, I might be able to forget about them, forget I’m a Mum, and just be Silvia, and stand, for just a moment, in the presence of God. Nothing spectacular happens, but it is nice.
So how can I be a Mum, be with my children, and worship God?
There’s another way, one we don’t talk much about, but it is what keeps my faith alive. It is my knowing that a toddler peeking out between the legs of the lecturn is saying more about God than the minister’s sermon. It is my awe at watching the child in my arms solemnly take and eat the communion bread, one arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders. It is my sense of privilege to be so close to such pure, direct expressions of God. So you could say that I worship through my children, allowing them to be sacrament for me.
And then the sacred moment is passed, and we have to find the toilet, or whatever. There’s nothing like little children for bringing you down to earth, back to basics. The God who speaks through them is a God of incredible direct love, a running body-slam hug kind of love. This is a God who knows and is known through bodies, hunger that hurts, the sheer delight of a warm bath, the grime and slime of everyday life. This is a God who couldn’t care less whether your socks match, or how many reports you write, but adores you absolutely. This is a God who laughs and laughs at bursting bubbles, who treasures worms, and special moments, and even me.
The dishes can wait.
Note on the Photo:
Actually, these aren't my kids ... these are the ever stunning and awesome ... Aina, Manda and Harena
Actually, these aren't my kids ... these are the ever stunning and awesome ... Aina, Manda and Harena