Each year during the weeks surrounding Mother's Day, I am reminded of a line in my patriarchal blessing that has both inspired and haunted me since I heard it spoken almost forty years ago. Since it is generic enough to apply to all women I'll quote it:

Having now been a mother for nearly thirty years, I am painfully aware of how far I have to go to live up to this blessing and challenge, but I have also lived long enough to know that it is the most worthy objective for which I might strive in life. The phrase, “true Christian motherhood,” has caused me over the years to expand my notion of motherhood beyond the closed circle of mother and child, and to examine what I can learn from mothers about being Christian and in turn, what I can learn from the principles of Christianity about being a mother.

Mothers as the Tree of Life

As we look to the scriptures to understand true Christian motherhood, we might start with the Tree of Life. One of the great testimonies to me of the inspiration of the Book of Mormon is the consistency of its imagery from start to finish.

As Genesis begins with the Tree of Life, so the Book of Mormon begins with a dream of that tree. This symbol recurs throughout the narrative in different forms, deepening and mutating in a remarkable way, from Lehi's dream and Nephi's interpretation, to the allegory of the olive tree, to Alma's great lecture on faith as a seed, which ends with the startling notion that we, ourselves, may become a Tree of Life.

The Book of Mormon takes the Biblical symbol of the Tree of Life to an even higher level by connecting the tree with Mary, the mother of Jesus. When Nephi asks the angel about the meaning of the tree that his father saw, the angel answers him with one word, “Look!” and then shows him the city of Nazareth. “In the city of Nazareth I beheld a virgin, and she was exceedingly fair and white.”

Then the angel asks Nephi this deep and wonderful question that is the beginning of every testimony:

Condescension means of course to go down with . So the angel is asking, “do you know how far God will go down to meet his children?” Nephi responds that he knows God loves his children but he doesn't know the meaning of all things. Then the angel says, “Look.” And Nephi says, “I looked, and I beheld the virgin again, bearing a child in her arms.” (I Ne 11: 13 and 20)

Of all the things that the angel could have said or shown to describe the way God loves his children, this scene is what he chose: Christ's mother holding him in her arms.

A few things stand out for me when I read this passage. First, Christ's mother, Mary, is described in exactly the same words as the fruit of the tree, that is, white and pure above all that is white and pure, which directs our minds back to the vision of the tree.

What is the fruit? It is the love of God. What is the best way for us to understand the love of God? It is to see Mary holding baby Jesus in her arms. Jesus is God made man, or God condescending to be a man. But also, the love of God is exemplified as the woman ascends to meet God in the act of creation. This moment, where a mother brings a child into the world, is as close to God as people get, and as close to people as God gets. It is the point of intersection between the human and the divine.

The temple is an attempt to recreate that experience for all of us on an ongoing basis. God wants us to feel that intersection often and raise our sights. That is why in the temple we change into special white clothing (like the fruit of the tree) and completely separate ourselves from everyday life. It is meant to be like a new birth. The mother, holding the child, is a symbol of the condescension of God.

So the first principle of true Christian motherhood is to understand the divine nature of every human being, and the divine role that parents play in creation. When mother Teresa said, “Every baby is a blessing,” I think she meant that every baby is a divine creation and must be honored as such. This is a courageous, life-changing attitude.

Divine Potential

I have a dear friend, not a member of the Church, who has three daughters. One day she mentioned the difference between our daughters, saying that our girls seemed to have a confidence in themselves that she wished her daughters had.

In response, I told her that every week our girls stood up and said out loud that they were daughters of a Heavenly Father who loved them, and then I recited the Young Women theme, which begins, “We are daughters of our Heavenly Father who loves us, and we love Him.” I told her of the cumulative effect of hearing every week, not only that God loves them, but that they are truly divine in nature, of individual worth. When a young woman grows up knowing that she has a divine center, she will be less likely to allow anyone to rob her of that glory, and she will want to exemplify everything that is good, clean and fine.

I have only written one poem in the past twenty years, and it was an attempt to express the wondrous experience of bringing a whole new person into the world and moving from a shared existence to see that tiny life become a whole, independent individual with infinite potential. Every mother knows that the new baby in her arms is a divine creation, and is humbled by the responsibility of helping that child see the godly potential within.

When we combine a sense of the divine potential of each individual with the understanding of the atonement of Christ, we are filled with the love of God, which, in the angel's words, “sheddeth itself abroad in the hearts of men.” So the next thing mothers teach us by example is to love in a Christ-like way. Love has many variations, but what is Christ-like love? It is well defined in the inspired language of Section 121 of the Doctrine and Covenants:

If we take these verses as a parenting guide (and I think we may do so since parenting is the greatest priesthood calling) we see that according to the scripture there are things that we must not do as parents.

We must not try to cover our sins (which I take to mean talk one way to our children and act another) or gratify our pride or our vain ambition (which means that we want them to succeed so we will look good) or exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon their souls in any degree of unrighteousness (I take this to mean that there are righteous ways to exercise control over children and unrighteous ways, and we'd better be sure we are on the righteous side) or the Spirit of the Lord will be grieved, the heavens will withdraw themselves, and we have lost the power and authority of parenting.

On the positive side, we are instructed to fill our relationships with persuasion, meekness, long suffering, gentleness and love unfeigned. The best mothers seem to do this naturally, and we can learn from them to infuse all our relationships with the power that comes from this kind of Christian love.

A Heritage of Miracles

Finally, our mothers teach us to believe in miracles. Mormon reminds us, “God has not ceased to be a God of miracles. And the reason why he ceaseth to do miracles among the children of men is because that they dwindle in unbelief, and depart from the right way, and know not the God in whom they should trust.” (Mormon 9:15&20)

Susan Tanner, as General President of the Young Women, gave a remarkable address titled Mothers, Mountains and Miracles . She recounted some of the great moments in scripture that hinged on the faith of mothers, calling down miracles on their children. Here is an experience from our early church history, during the episode know as Zion's camp:

Sister Tanner then goes on to tell a personal story about needing to be two places at once (something every mother understands), both at the side of a daughter who had a difficult and risky pregnancy, and on a world tour for the Young Women. She prayed in faith, and received the blessing she needed, literally walking off the plane in time to be there for the births.

I think a key point here is the nature of the miracle she asked for. She asked for help to be of service, not for the problem to go away. I have prayed many prayers in my life and the ones that ask why, or why me, or why now, often seem to hit the ceiling. But in times of great distress I have learned to ask: What can I do to help this situation with this child? What should I say? How should I feel? And invariably little thoughts and feelings come into my heart, and there is always something that can be done. Mothers can teach us the nature of true Christian prayer.

Changed Hearts

I have also found in my own life that often the greatest miracle is the way my heart changes when I make a problem a matter of consistent prayer. This isn't an imagined thing; it is real. In a way these subtle changes in our hearts are the most real things in life, and the greatest miracles.

It is a miracle when we are finally able to let go of all the selfish motivations that mar our mothering, and focus completely on the good of the child in our stewardship. We cease to use guilt as a tool or try to manipulate the child in any way. Those unkind, cutting remarks that can cause such long-term damage are replaced by words of encouragement and hope, even when the child has ceased to really deserve them.

We have the right to call upon the powers of heaven to assist us in our mothering and in our family relationships. Do we do this? Do we spend hours talking about our children and our grandchildren, worrying about them, entertaining them, but almost no time at all praying about them?

I believe that as we pray for our children, our grandchildren, our nieces and nephews and young friends, miracles happen. And the first miracle will be that we will come to love them and see them as the Lord sees them.

In the greatest parable of all, Christ tells of the final return of the prodigal, (who, by the way, only came home after all the money was gone and he was starving, not out of any real repentance.) His father had been agonizing and praying for this son all the while he was gone.

This is one parable where all of us can relate to all the characters. Christ is teaching us how Father in Heaven feels about us, his prodigal children, so wasteful of our inheritance, only turning to him when all other avenues fail. But he is also teaching us how to see our children when they stray, not to wait until they call, or come begging for mercy, but having the vision to see them when they are still far away from us and find a way to get to them and fold them in our embrace.

In every relationship where we are stubbornly withholding our love until the other person is more worthy or deserving or apologetic or whatever, the Savior teaches us what it really means to love. Good mothers teach us this lesson every day.

My own mother's love is never predicated on my worthiness, it is just always there. When I am discouraged she turns on the encouragement and praise like a fireman's hose, and she means every word. She is one of the most intelligent women I know, a deep and honest thinker and seeker of truth, yet she has a humble, unshakeable testimony of the Savior and his gospel. I grew up with the same blessing that the young followers of Helaman enjoyed when they said, “we do not doubt that our mothers knew it.” Even at times of doubt and discouragement in my own life I have never had to doubt my mother's testimony.

There are millions of other people like myself, recipients of a faithful mother's love. This love comes from God. To understand eternal relationships, you have to go to the source. The love of a mother for a prodigal child teaches us about God's love for each of us.

The revealed words of scripture offer us a perspective of motherhood that is diametrically opposed to what the world teaches. Instead of Christ-like love, the world offers a mild, easily palatable doctrine of tolerance for everything and passionate belief in nothing.

We are told to put ourselves first and others second. This kind of love has no real power; it's only conditional. But as Jedediah M. Grant said, “In the church of Jesus Christ we know the difference between the history of the feast and the feast itself.”

The revealed gospel teaches me that as a woman I am of divine worth, and that mothering is a holy thing. That a life of service is a life well lived, even if the world places little value on it. Above all, the gospel teaches me that my relationships take hold of eternity.

Every mother knows how your life is bound up in the life of your child, how that child becomes, after all the care and nurturing, more important than anything on earth. This natural emotion is eternal in nature, and the promise that through our temple covenants we not only can be sealed together as families forever, but that through our vicarious efforts the whole family of the earth is linked by a golden chain of love and power is the most beautiful doctrine imaginable to those who love their families. It's the eternal truth behind every mother's love.

There are few things on earth that everyone can share, but we all have mothers. If we look closely, our mothers can teach us about our divine nature, the nature of love, and the miracle of change that can come when that love is combined with faith in Christ and his healing power. When Christ describes himself as a mother hen, that longs to gather us under its protective wings, we can see His very nature in the exercise of “true Christian motherhood.”