Who is My Mom?

Every time the wind picks up, a small statue of Mary, the Blessed Mother, falls on her side in front of our home.

When I lift her up, I wonder- what if I did the same for all the moms who are knocked over by the storms of life?

Am I caring as much for them as I do for this statue?

If I am being honest, does the image of this statue on the ground bother me more than the images of mothers unable (by systems of injustice) to nourish their children, provide secure housing, or safety?

I wonder how might God be calling us to love those in our midst and afar as we love our mother in heaven.

I will continue to pick up this statue (or find a more solid ground for it to stand), but I must also respond with action and prayer for those who need our support to not only help them up but to join them in changing the systems that lead to their unfair realities.