From mothers' arms, we see the world, in mother's arms we look for food, she gives us life, she holds us close, and so may God be understood. This God is tender, loving-kind, the mother bird who guards her nest, this God can rage, with angry tears, the mother bear deprived and stressed. This God is home and warming hearth, does not forget us when we leave, is quick to welcome and embrace, absorbs our pain when we must grieve. God is the seeker of that coin, the child she lost but longs to find, the seamstress God who stitches peace from all the tatters we've designed. More than our minds can comprehend more than our bodies can attest, God is the love that mothers give that every child be held and blessed.