Such thoughts on a dark wet night.

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A few random pops.  Recent enough?  One of them.  The others seemed to be found or find themselves into the discussion, but here they are.

Mother.  What comes to mind, when I suggest that word?  Multitudes of notions, for me.  One of those has only become a grace of contemplation in the last decade or two.  Something like that.  Even then it has been a struggle.

The one shared with us, by Christ on the cross.  I struggled first with God.  Then with her.  No, not a goddess, co redemptrix, or any such.  She would burn your soul to hell for suggesting such.  I... have seen this.  What is she?  Filled, not full, of grace.  Mother of God, a saint of many things.  But, simply, our holy mother.

After... abiding God, she was my next... one to understand.  First, to decide what her place was, who she was, what she had to do with me.  More complex than I could reasonably explain.  Much as I can't explain the relationship between the mother who raised me and myself.  It is just too complex.

But I can say, I have come to certain forks, where the choices were simple, stark, and absolute.  I, in time, had to choose between the righteous wrath of my new mother, and the wisdom of life which she could suggest.  Both... were... tantalizing?  Amazing, brilliant, and many other things.  Jewels, from her, of some divine nature?  I think so.

I at once mocked her.  For... not resisting?  I sense that she could have interfered, or at least brought retribution against those who had murdered what seemed Hope?  Mocked, for being weak, choosing to be weak, just letting go?  The world punished her, as did I.  In part being more worldly, in part not being but not... understanding.  Derisions heaped.

Then I began to see.  Understand.  If...  from my own path, and walk, and run-ins with her.  Odd how these things happen.  I suspect all have these, but not all bother to add these things into their calculations.  Why would I?  How did I do so?  I... just can't remember, not fully.

I have chosen wisdom.  Yet I hunger for ravenous rage, I have set it aside for... quiet contemplation, simpler action, hope, faith, and charity.

Just... enjoying... the flow of things, as I recall the growing relationship with the woman.  She... knows my name, and my nature.  Yet... has hope.  Her patience has borne things in me that I didn't think were possible.  I hope I do not disappoint.  At least I don't have to wait for another day in order to talk.  If... it will be another day before we meet.

I may end up being a part of her righteous rage.  Or... not.  I will do what I must.  If... the hope is to stay within her graces.  Be well.