July 16, 2014

By Amanda Conklin
Contributing Writer

It is often difficult to focus during Mass with a 10 month old daughter. While I’ve grown accustomed to the struggle of wrangling her little squirmy body and simultaneously concentrating on the Mass in prayer, it is still a very welcome (and rare) blessing when I can have a moment of silent reflection.

A small miracle occurred a few Sundays ago when my daughter, Emma Therese sat quietly in her car seat during the Consecration.

For the first time in a long time, I was able to bow my head, take a deep breath, and enter into a short prayer. I could have prayed for a variety of things in that moment, but as I knelt there with my seven-month pregnant belly, what came to me was entirely different than my usual prayers. 

A beautiful, unexpected image began to form in my busy mind. The timeline of Christ’s public ministry and life in reverse started to play out. The final loving act of Christ, giving up his body for us, his children, came to view as the priest repeated those words: “This is my body, which will be given up for you.”

I looked down at my tired, growing baby belly and remembered my labor with Emma and these words echoed in my soul.

As mothers, we do give up our pre-baby bodies for our children. We ache and grow weary as our pregnancy progresses, similar to Christ’s journey to his cross.

I have personally had to discipline myself with both pregnancies as I developed gestational diabetes and had to give up most food that I love. Sometimes to a pregnant woman, giving up chocolate does feel akin to Christ’s journey to the cross!

We give of our bodies and in a way die to ourselves (some feel as though they are actually dying) as we labor to give birth. This is the first thing we do for our children.

Next, Christ’s ministry of teaching and loving came to mind.

After we give our bodies up for our children, it is our mission as parents to teach our children, and to ultimately get them to heaven. They are only ours for a short time and we have been entrusted with them to care for their little souls.

They primarily do not belong to us, but to Christ. Just as Christ knew he would not be on earth with his loved ones forever, so we know one day we will not be with our children.

That is why it is so important to guide them in the faith while we are here.

Not every moment as a mother is a beautiful greeting card scene. There were moments when even Christ had to be shaking his head as the apostles asked some stupid questions.

I try to remember that Christ encountered those times when my daughter is pinching my knee by closing the laptop on me or sticking her foot in her own poop while I’m changing her.

I’m sure there will be a time when my daughter is a teenager and I am suddenly the number one enemy.
I will try to remember then that Christ’s own friends and followers, people he taught with in the synagogue, were the ones that condemned him to death.

From now on, I am going to try to reflect on those words at the consecration: “this is my body, which will be given up for you,” even if it has to be done while Emma is crawling on me like a jungle gym.

What a beautiful gift we have been given in the Eucharist. What a beautiful gift is motherhood.

The Conklin family, Seth, Amanda and Emma Therese