Mama Archers and Other Lessons from The Help

I recently finished The Help by Kathryn Stockett. Set in the south, this account of the relationship between two black maids and a college graduate who writes their stories, offers moving and thought-provoking pictures of that time.

The author's worldview shines forth clearly with her persistent taking of the Lord's name in vain, her brief commentary on homosexuality, church-going characters who don't manifest much fruit of the spirit, and one character's general dismissal of God. (Yes, much is a portrayal of the times, now and then, but it's clear that Mrs. Stockett views Christianity as a vehicle of hypocrisy and oppression.)

But what also stood out to me were her spot-on observations about motherhood:

1) Babies like cushy Mamas:

"Babies like fat. Like to bury they face up in you armpit and go to sleep. They like big fat legs, too. That I know."


This is why God gave us hips, my friends. They're pockets of comfort and tenderness for our babies. Notice how men get tired so much more quickly than we do when holding babies? Yes, motherhood often brings a bit more cushion. It's ok. For some of us, it will melt away. For others, it will be a reminder of babies' borne and held and rocked and cuddled.

2) Mama is often the archer and her daughter is the target:

"Mother ate her breakfast early in the dining room, then moved to the relaxing room to do needlepoint or write letters to missionaries in Africa. From her green wing chair, she could see everyone going almost anywhere in the house. It was shocking what she could process about my appearance in the split second it took for me to pass by that door. I used to dash by, feeling like a dartboard, a big red bull's-eye that Mother pinged darts at."


I've been that mother. I can still be that mother.

Maybe having boys first made having a daughter more of a mystery to me. I wasn't prepared for the conflicts and struggles that are often part of the mother/daughter relationship. I wasn't prepared for the pronounced emotional dynamic.

I wasn't prepared for a heart that would quickly pull, not darts, but poisonous arrows from its quiver and aim spot on for my daughter's heart.

Oh, Mamas, we have to be ever aware of this and pray for the Holy Spirit to restrain and remove those anger-laced messengers of hurtful words and opinions that we are all too ready to release, piercing the hearts and souls of our children. 

(One of the most helpful and convicting teaching I've heard on the topic of mothers and daughters is by Nancy Wilson. You can order "Mothers and Daughters" here.)

3) Don't waste your motherhood:

Skeeter, the writer, has a mother who loves appearances. She delights in her daughter's helping out at the Presbyterian church. It looks good. She constantly comments on her daughter's clothing, and her motherly advice focuses on the external. If everything looks good on the outside, she's happy.

Even while close to death, the mother doesn't offer her daughter wisdom, but instead a list she's been compiling of what her daughter should and shouldn't wear.

"Mother pulls the pad of paper from under the covers, tucked in the invisible pocket she's had sewn in every garment, where she keeps antivomiting pills, tissues. Tiny dictatorial lists. Even though she is so weak, I'm surprised by the steadiness of her hand as she writes on the "Do Not Wear" list: 'Gray, shapeless, mannishly tailored pants.' She smiles, satisfied."

There is one exceptionally tender moment between the two, but most of their conversations are limited to profound observations such as this:

"I'm fine. Don't wrinkle your forehead like that, Eugenia. It's not good for your complexion."

It's not that Skeeter's mom doesn't love her. It's more that she stayed in that comfortable place of superficial living that tempts too many of us. No thought of eternity. No thought of the legacy she was leaving her children. 

We fall into the same trap. It's easier to embrace a compliant child, all the while ignoring symptoms of self-righteousness or focus on a pretty outside because we don't want to painfully dig deeper and address issues of the heart. It's easier to pat ourselves on the back because our children behave well in public while we ignore their failure to love one another at home.

Do our children know what matters most to us? Is eternity in focus in the most mundane moments of our day, or do our words and choices betray that there's a part of us that thinks right here and now is all there is?

Cushy Mamas who aim good words at the hearts of their children while making them ever aware of the gospel and living for eternity. Those are lessons worth learning.

With love,

Trisha