Suddenly, I don’t want an image of blue veils,
lowered eyes and folded hands anymore !
I want an image of Mary that is alive and dynamic…
I want an image of the woman going to the village well
with the other women, a water-jar on her head,
attentive to each one who needed someone to talk to.
I want an image of the woman who had to go to market
to buy food for the family, and who experienced the pinch
when Roman taxes got out of hand.
I want an image of the woman who struggled so hard
to understand her son who seemed bent on getting himself killed
by the reckless way he challenged the religious authorities.
I want an image of the woman who stood by him to the end
not knowing for sure how he would be vindicated
but trusting that he would be.
I want an image of the woman in intense discussion
with the disciples, fearlessly adding her view and opinions
how to respond to the Spirit’s leading in the new-found Church.
I want an image of the woman fully present to the Church today
deeply concerned and compassionate about the way
her sons and daughters treat each other.
I want to know her as my mother
making for her a home in my heart as did the beloved disciple,
if only... if only I would let go... just a little.
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