Lord, draw near...

Rev. John Ames, in Marilynne Robinson's Gilead:

"I mean only respect when I say that your mother has always struck me as someone with whom the Lord might have chosen to spend some part of His mortal time.  How odd it is to have to say that after all these centuries. There is an earned innocence, I believe, which is as much to be honored as the innocence of children. . . I can imagine Jesus befriending my grandfather, too, frying up some breakfast for him, talking things over with him, and in fact the old man did report several experiences of just that kind. I can't say the same for myself. I doubt I have the strength for it. This is something that has come to my mind from time to time over the years, and I don't really know what to make of it."

I finished reading Gilead yesterday, and I was blessed by this patient, lovely book.  It is full of beauty and truth and the complexity and pain of intergenerational relationships as times change–recognizing how the formative things for each generation (Civil and World Wars, poverty, times of plenty, various world events, educational ideas, influential writers, parenting styles) form varying ideals about how to live out a true and faithful Christian life. Well, that makes it sound dull and preachy and it is anything but that. Many, many things could be said and discussed about this book, but one line really stuck with me over the past few days and has been pressing on my heart as I've been busy and scattered and, yes, far from the loving and attentive mother I hope to be.

If you haven't already guessed, this is the line that echoes and makes me wonder:

". . . your mother has always struck me as someone with whom the Lord might have chosen to spend some part of His mortal time."

Like John Ames himself, I really don't know what to make of it  . . . but a great desire for becoming this sort of person wells up inside of me.

O Lord, draw near to me. May you make me into such a woman and wife and mother!

                                                      ~Sara~