A Mother’s Heart: The Keeper of Childhood
“But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”
—Luke 2:19, KJV
There is a quiet beauty in that verse.
A holy stillness.
A mother, young and spent, cradling the Son of God—and all around her, the world stirs.
Angels have sung.
Shepherds have come.
The sky itself has broken open in praise.
But Mary?
She does not speak.
She does not run to announce.
She simply… keeps. And ponders.
In the hush of the stable, beneath the scent of hay and heaven, Mary begins what every mother will do for the rest of time.
She tucks the moment deep within.
She folds it gently into the corners of her soul.
She keeps it—because she knows time will try to steal it.
We do this, don’t we?
We keep the first flutter in the womb.
The way their newborn cry sounded like a bleat.
The early mornings with sleep-sticky cheeks and warm milk breath nestled beneath our chin.
We keep their first steps—unsteady and bold.
Their first words—mama, dada, truck, Bible.
The sweet way they mispronounce “spaghetti” or insist their tattered blankey is “essential for survival.”
We keep all these things.
Because they won’t.
Their memories are still forming, but ours are already anchored.
Mama, your heart is the vault of childhood.
You are the chronicler of tiny graces:
The time she ran barefoot through the sprinklers,
The dandelion bouquet he handed you with pride,
The way they slept soundest in your arms and nowhere else.
They will not remember those things.
But you will.
“Her children arise up, and call her blessed…”
—Proverbs 31:28, KJV
Blessed not because she did everything right.
But because she was there.
Watching.
Loving.
Keeping.
But here is the gentle warning:
Your heart is only as safe a keeper as it is clean.
“Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.”
—Proverbs 4:23, KJV
A cluttered heart—heavy with comparison, regret, bitterness, or sin—cannot hold joy well.
It leaks.
It warps the memories.
It blurs the beauty.
So Mama, guard your heart.
Not only for your own sake, but for theirs.
Keep it soft with repentance.
Keep it light with gratitude.
Keep it holy with prayer.
Because the memories you carry will one day be the stories you pass on.
And perhaps, even more than that—they’ll shape the spirit with which you parent today.
Motherhood is made of quiet ponderings.
Moments no one else sees.
No one else hears.
But God.
And just as Mary kept those sacred things in her heart, you too are keeping a holy history.
Not in journals or scrapbooks, but in the sacred chambers of your soul.
So keep them well.
Let your heart be a sanctuary of remembrance.
Where joy is preserved,
Where pain is refined,
And where the love of a mother testifies quietly, sweetly, to the goodness of God in every season.
Biblical Womanhood
Precious truth. It brings me sweet peace. ❤️
Thank you.
This is such a reassuring blanket to always swaddle a mother's heart ✝️🕯🤍🪻