In the first few weeks of parenthood, the tears flowed fast and freely, and with very little provocation. 

Sometimes I wept because it was getting dark out, and sometimes because the sun was coming up. Sometimes I wept because the days were so unbearably long. Sometimes I wept because they were so cruelly short and slipped past so quickly, bearing away with them forever these inaugural moments of my daughter’s life — moments I knew I would long for on my deathbed. 

So, the inclusion of the Presentation of Christ in the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary has always struck me. The Blessed Mother, just a few weeks after giving birth, standing at the holy temple: Is she tired? Is she emotional? Is she frightened? Is she happy? We cannot know for sure, but if she is anything like most of the postpartum women I know, she is all four. But she stands there dutifully, offering her baby to the Lord, and this is what she is told, “A sword shall pierce your heart.”

Joyful? I would have snatched the baby back, called the police and sobbed for a week. 

But Mary knows that Simeon speaks the truth, and she cannot receive God’s will with anything less than joy, even if it means a pierced heart. 

Family means love, but love means — what, exactly? Pleasure, fulfillment, contentment? Yes, but so much more, too. Love means you have much to lose. 

How full is family life with these beautiful moments which, on the surface, look and feel painful — but hold within them the opportunity to be like Mary, to bow our heads and once again say “Yes, Lord.” 

“Put on, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another…” 
— Colossians 3:12