“This is my body, which will be given for you; do this in memory of me”. . . And likewise [he took] the cup, after they had eaten, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which will be shed for you” (Lk 22:19; 20).
Can you imagine the uncontainable God allowing his only son—his very heart—to become flesh and sending this tender, vulnerable God-man into our world? And if that’s not enough, once we had crucified him, and he rose from the dead and ascended to his Father, Jesus comes to get us, to become love for us. He enters our broken world, our fragmented lives, to defeat sin, hell, and the grave. He reigns triumphant, forever. In the Eucharist we partake of the eternal now, and we are offered his own body, blood, soul, and divinity. This bread of heaven is the saving love we desire most of all—a vulnerable, intimate, powerful consummation of self-sacrificial love. We are fulfilled by the lover of our very souls; we are his beloved. Christ redeems us by embracing his hour of suffering and letting himself be broken and given in gratitude—all for the sake of communion with each of us, his collective mystical bride. In this radical act of total self-gift, he beckons.
What “hour has come” for you as a mother? What area of suffering are you grappling with to understand and accept as part of God’s redemptive plan? Are you facing exhaustion from the give-a-thon of motherhood? Do you feel dry, empty, or interiorly lonely? Are you finding it hard to perceive what good could come out of the pain pressing your heart? What void of uncertainties or dark disappointments are crushing your heart when you think of your children? Know this: Christ knows your suffering. Be fed by the only one who can strengthen you in your vocation—by the only one who can give the grace you need.
Dear Jesus, thank you for being my eternal bread that sustains me in my vocation. When my crosses as a mother seem too heavy to bear, help me to embrace the Eucharistic call that is at the very heart of this vocation. Help me to remember that at the core of my suffering you have drawn me into a place of eternal provision and Resurrection-power because, incomprehensibly, you have given your body, blood, soul, and divinity. Jesus of the Eucharist, enkindle my heart to remember that my suffering is not meaningless. Fill me with fresh purpose as I participate in your redemptive plan, even in my greatest heartaches.
*This post is directly from our Mighty Is Her Call “Mother’s Rosary Guide” written by Kathryn Rombs, Ph.D. and Jolly Hormillosa. It is available as an e-book or hard copy in our store. Order Your Copy Today!