Seeking the Hidden Holiness of Motherhood
Written by Maggie Peiffer
Allow me to paint a picture for you.
It’s a weekday morning after breakfast. I have three young children. I ask my oldest to get her school clothes on, and she runs off to do so. My middle child is taking his sweet time in the bathroom. I look over at the table and notice my youngest practicing his new climbing ability, scaling the kitchen chair to the kitchen table, victoriously standing on the summit, or should I say, the table, with a huge grin on his face.
As I run to grab him off the table, I hear my other two crying out for me. One needs help to finish up in the bathroom, and the other needs help to find her favorite school pants—NOW. The moment I set down my youngest, he is back to his favorite work of scaling the furniture.
A moment of chaos erupts. Brush strokes of cries and demands and toddler glee punctuate the canvas with color. I am only one person, but I am needed by everyone in a moment. I am stretched in many directions, unable to do everything at once.
Perhaps this is a painting you have seen before, played out in your own day-to-day. What would you call this image? Maybe you have some ideas: “Morning Madness,” “Beautiful Chaos,” or “Real Life” come to mind.
This image is many things to me, but one thing I’ve repeatedly struggled to find in it is holiness. In my time as a mother, I have sought long and hard for holiness. I want to feel holy. I want life to look holy. I have this false impression that my life before marriage was all those things, simply because I had the time and freedom to pray in peace, to attend mass daily, and to have a job that involved active ministry. Maybe it was holy, but holier than life as a wife and mother? More holy than a life of routine self-sacrifice, self-denial, and discomfort?
The last couple of years have been a constant seeking of the meaning of holiness and how to find it within motherhood because today, that holiness is harder to see. Everything is veiled and hidden, but I have come to know it is holy.
In many ways, I will never fully find my answer. I will need to seek this answer my whole life. But in other ways, the answer is so obvious and so simple.
The answer? Matthew 25:34-40.
Within the first few minutes of giving birth to my babies, several things happened. These tiny, naked babies were placed upon my chest. I welcomed them joyfully with hugs and kisses, bewildered at this beautiful gift of life and amazed that my body could grow something so intricate and beautiful and form those chubby little cheeks so perfectly. These babies nursed for the first time at my breast. After that, they were cleaned, diapered, swaddled, and placed back in my arms.
Within a couple hours, my life had been radically transformed. It was almost as if I could hear Jesus whisper, “Whatever you did for the least of these… you did also for Me” (Matthew 25:31-40).
Those first hours were just the beginning. Day in and day out, these babies, who quickly grow into children, must still be given food and drink, dressed, changed, bathed, welcomed, tended to in sickness, and cared for in the prison of their own dependency. Then, they grow, thrive and flourish. And Jesus keeps whispering, “Whatever you did for the least of these… you did also for Me.”
Herein lies the secret: “Whatever you did for the least of these, you did also for Me.” I must learn to love Christ in my children. In the chaos, I must see Christ. In the peaceful, still moment, I must experience Christ. In my exhaustion, I must serve Christ. I must learn He is there in all the mundane, infuriating, joyful, and sorrowful moments. And if He is there, I already have all I need to be holy.
Now, this is easy to say yet harder to do. I am so far from perfect, and motherhood is a great and difficult adventure. But in my seeking and striving, I know I am not alone. The community of other women, of mothers old and young, is vital to my ability to find Christ. In that, I realize that I am not alone in my struggles. I realize that others have walked this walk and have great wisdom to share. I recognize that the writing of humans, both living and deceased, points me in the ways I should go.
Each month, I meet with other young moms who struggle and strive as I do. We all seek in different ways, but we build each other up and encourage one another along the way. Back in December, while discussing how to practically live in the presence of God as laid out by Brother Lawrence, several of us had recently gotten over long bouts of illness. Others were dealing with significant life changes and family struggles, like learning to parent teenagers.
Brother Lawrence offers such simple yet profound advice. Jesus is there, even when we can’t get to the chapel. He is with us when we wash dishes or care for our children. He is with us at work or in the office. And so, Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, born in the 1600s, meets the Well-Read Mom group of Dubuque, IA, in 2023, expressing ideas and spiritual practices that seemed refreshingly simple and exactly what we needed to hear.
We gather to discuss other seekers and, in the process, find the encouragement we so deeply need. These are reminders that “love is the final reality” (A Severe Mercy) and “we can make a private chapel of our heart” (Practice of the Presence of God) when we are unable to meet him in the sacraments. We are reminded that in our lives, “We shall not cease from exploration” (Four Quartets). We must continue seeking holiness at all costs. Our reality today will eventually intertwine with eternity when we will live in love and nothing else, so we do well to continue this exploration and seek holiness.
Before I draw this moment to an end, I want to paint a picture for you again. Because what I saw at the beginning is not the same as what I see now, as T.S. Eliot reminds us:
“We shall not cease from exploration
Little Gidding, Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time”
Breakfast is over, the food has been eaten, the mess has been made. Once again, my toddler begins mountaineering off the table, and I must rescue him from his lack of self-preservation instincts. My three-year-old still needs help in the bathroom, and my six-year-old still demands I find a specific pair of her navy blue pants. It still feels chaotic, with disheveled strokes of yelling and frustrations. But now, something is different, very different. What has changed? Everything and nothing. In my seeking, I have come to know that Christ is amid my motherhood—every last crazy moment. He was always there. So, with a sense of joy, I can now call this beautiful piece of art “The Hidden Holiness.”
About Maggie Peiffer
Maggie Peiffer is a wife and mother who resides in Eastern Iowa. As a stay at home mom, she came to realize that mothering is the most challenging adventure of all and caring for small children is a hidden and demanding life. After spending years in high school youth ministry, she is now passionate about helping other moms find the beauty and holiness in the everyday challenges that come with raising children. At any given moment, she can be found enjoying a strong cup of coffee, tending to her flowers, or enjoying a walk with her family. You can read more of her work at https://substack.com/@maggiepeiffer.
About Well-Read Mom
In Well-Read Mom, women read more and read well. Our hope is to deepen the awareness of meaning hidden in each woman’s daily life, elevate the cultural conversation, and revitalize reading literature from books. If you would like to have us help you select worthy reading material, we invite you to join and read along with us. We are better together! For information on how to start or join a Well-Read Mom group visit our website wellreadmom.com
