Grace Filled Lemons

When I was a Protestant, Mary was a footnote.

Honored at Christmas, mentioned in passing, admired from a distance — but never really known. Never truly loved. And certainly never turned to in suffering.

But then came the illness.
The limitations.
The shame.
The fear.
The deep mother-wounds I didn’t know I carried — all of it surfaced when my body began to fail me and no one else seemed to understand.

And somehow… that’s when Mary found me.

Not with fanfare.
Not with theology.
But with the gentlest embrace of a mother who saw my ache — and didn’t look away.

Mary Enters the Hidden Places

One of the most beautiful titles of Mary is “Refuge of Sinners.” But I’ve come to know her also as:

Refuge of the Fatigued.
Consolation of the Chronically Ill.
Mother of the Overlooked.

She doesn’t stand at the gates of heaven waiting for perfection.
She steps into sick rooms.
She kneels beside tear-streaked pillows.
She enters the quiet places where we feel unseen and unworthy — and she stays.

Mary doesn’t heal us instead of Jesus. She leads us to Him.

And when our bodies are too weak, when our spirits are too heavy, she lifts us — like any mother would — and carries us to the feet of Christ.

She Knows Suffering

Mary knows what it is to stand helplessly by while someone you love suffers.

She knows the ache of unanswered questions.
She knows what it’s like to live quietly, in obscurity, misunderstood.
And she knows the agony of watching pain unfold — even when you said “yes” to God’s will.

This is why she’s the perfect mother for you and me.

Because she doesn’t need you to have the words.
She doesn’t need you to be strong.
She just wants you to let her in.

A Prayer to Mary on a Hard Day

Mother Mary,
You who held Jesus in the stable and beneath the Cross,
Hold me now in this suffering I do not understand.
Be a mother to me — not in theory, but in presence.
Come into this room, into this pain, into this place I can’t fix.
Whisper the words I cannot pray.
Rock me in your mantle of grace.
Lead me gently to your Son.
Amen.

Dear friend, if you’ve never truly known Mary — or if you’ve been afraid to trust her — start here.

Ask her to show you she’s real.
Ask her to be a mother to you in your weakness.
You don’t have to earn her love.
You already have it.

And no matter how sour your season may be — grace is still being poured.

With love,
Laura