The Gifts of the Spirit for Mothers

I was confirmed in the Catholic Church at thirteen. My sponsor had been in a car accident a week or so prior, so my father stood in as a proxy. He placed his hand on my shoulder during the Rite of Confirmation, its heft a testament of an earthly and heavenly father’s love.

By the time we got to the Liturgy of the Eucharist, I had pretty much checked out. My knees were hurting from kneeling, sweat was beading under my perfectly coiffed, poofy bangs, and I was mildly dizzy from the incense-heavy air. Only the Bishop’s intonations broke the silence. I leaned back onto the pew, put my head in my hands, and wondered how much longer it would be until the reception.

There was a noise to my left. My back straightened. My face reddened. Glancing surreptitiously out of the corner of my eye, I confirmed my fears: it was my dad. His eyes were closed, his hands were open, and he appeared to be praying, loudly, in a foreign language.

I wanted to die. What fresh horror was this, that my father would draw such attention to himself during the most sacred part of the Mass? I was mortified. Dumbfounded. What if the other kids noticed? What if the Bishop noticed?

I elbowed my dad. Shushed him. Grabbed him by the arm. “Dad! What are you doing?!?” I whispered.

He didn’t look at me, nor did he acknowledge my desperate pummeling. He just went silent, looked as normal as ever, and proceeded on with the rest of the Mass.

I let into him in the car on the way home. He had no explanation of the language he was speaking. It was a gift from the Holy Spirit, he said, brought about by its presence during my Confirmation Mass.

Dad was quick to point out it was not a gift he had asked for. He also warned me that unlike the established gifts of the Holy Spirit that we receive in Confirmation, the gift of tongues is an extraordinary grace that one must carefully, prayerfully discern as being truly of God. It had only happened to him once before, and it never happened to him again. He rarely spoke of it and guarded the experience as a treasured secret.

While I had been initially embarrassed by my father’s encounter with the Holy Spirit, it opened my eyes to the incredible power of the Paraclete, the Counselor whom God has given us as our guide. Most of us will never be granted the gift of tongues, but we are all given the gifts of the Spirit: wisdom, understanding, knowledge, right judgment, fortitude, piety and fear of the Lord. In my nine years of mothering, I have come to understand the application of these gifts to my vocation. And so I share them with you, the Gifts of the Spirit for Mothers:

Wisdom: Wisdom helps us rightfully discern those choices which lead us closer to Christ. Pope Francis defines wisdom as the ability to see everything through God’s eyes. In other words, rather than making choices for our children out of envy, anger, retaliation or despair, we make decisions out of a spirit of love and gratitude. It allows us as mothers to unite ourselves with Christ while providing the same opportunity for our children.

Understanding: This is the gift that not only allows us to comprehend the teachings of the Church, but also to develop tolerance, empathy and compassion for others as well. We use our gift of understanding to help our little ones learn to respect differences, to treat others with kindness, and to offer aid to those in need.

Right Judgment: Right judgment is the gift of prudence. It is the ability to look at a situation and determine what ought to be done. For mothers, it helps us face the myriad decisions we must make with regard to our children’s ’ upbringing: should I homeschool? Are these friends good influences? What approach should I take for this disciplinary issue? The Holy Spirit’s guidance allows us to make the right decisions for our children.

Fortitude: In its truest sense, fortitude is the courage to stand firm in the teachings of the Church. For mothers, fortitude becomes the courage to stand firm in our vocation. Our culture of death seeks to vilify motherhood and diminish womanhood. With fortitude, we are able to evangelize the truths of the faith through our daily lives.

Knowledge: There are several definitions of knowledge, but I think the Baltimore Catechism says it best: “a gift of the Holy Ghost which enables us to see God reflected in all creatures and to praise Him in them, but yet to see the nothingness of creatures in themselves so that we will desire God alone.” In other words, knowledge allows us to see the goodness of God in creation and its utter dependence on Him. Isn’t that just how see our children? Yes, they draw on the walls, fight with their siblings and empty out entire containers of cornstarch onto the kitchen floor (or maybe that’s just my kids), but they are still good and wonderful in the eyes of God. They depend on Him, and us, for their growth and salvation.

Piety: Piety is our childlike relationship with God. It is the love which is expressed so beautifully in the Our Father, where we trust in Him as completely as a child places trust in her parents. Being a mother is hard – so hard, in fact, that sometimes it is all we can do to keep moving forward. This is where piety steps in, as we surrender to our heavenly Father for support in our daily struggles.

Fear of the Lord: Worded in a way that often leads to misunderstanding, fear of the Lord is amazement at the awesomeness of our Creator. It is the gift that allows us to see that we are fearfully, wonderfully made, and that our children are made this way, too. Fear of the Lord helps us love our children even when they keep us up at night, driving us to distraction with anxiety. God is almighty and bigger than our worries.

The Holy Spirit is pure, divine love, our gift from a loving Father whose will for us is good and holy. My father understood that, and I understand it now, too. May the Holy Spirit open our hearts to His graces, and enkindle in us the fire of His love.