The God They Never Told You About: Discovering the Maternal Heart of the Divine
The God They Never Told You About: Discovering the Maternal Heart of the Divine
Not everyone arrives at the same emotional doorstep on Mother's Day. Some celebrate with joy, surrounded by love and gratitude. Others carry the weight of grief—mourning loss, navigating complicated relationships, or wrestling with unfulfilled longings. Some stand courageously in the gap as grandmothers or aunties. Others quietly wonder if they're failing at motherhood, hoping no one notices the cracks.
Whatever your story, there's room for you in this conversation.
Because what if the God we've been taught to know is bigger, more tender, more nurturing than we ever imagined? What if the divine love we've been seeking has a dimension we've overlooked—one that carries the fierce tenderness of a mother's heart?
The Image We've Been Missing
We're comfortable calling God "Father to the fatherless," and rightly so. Scripture affirms this beautiful truth. But what happens when we need something different? What happens when we need to be held, comforted, and gathered with a tenderness that transcends what we've experienced?
Hidden in plain sight throughout Scripture are verses that reveal God using maternal imagery to describe His relationship with us. These aren't metaphors of convenience—they're intentional self-portraits of the Divine, painted with the most intimate human experiences imaginable.
Consider this stunning promise from Isaiah 66:13: "I will comfort you there in Jerusalem as a mother comforts her child."
God isn't promising to send comfort or arrange for someone else to provide it. He's pointing directly at Himself, saying, "I will comfort you—the way a mother comforts her child." He reaches for the most tender, instinctive image available in human experience to help us understand His heart toward us.
Carried Before Your First Breath
Long before you took your first breath, before you made your first mistake or earned your first achievement, God was already carrying you. Isaiah 46:3-4 paints this remarkable picture: "I have cared for you since you were born. Yes, I carried you before you were born. I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until your hair is white with age."
The Hebrew word used here for "carried" is nasa—meaning to lift, to bear, to carry what is precious. This isn't the language of a distant judge or an uninvolved creator. This is the vocabulary of a mother who carries life within her body, protecting what is vulnerable and precious.
From before your birth to after your hair turns gray, God has never checked out. He's been carrying you through every season, every struggle, every moment you thought you were alone.
If you've been carrying burdens by yourself for too long, this truth is for you: you were never meant to bear them alone.
Love That Runs Womb-Deep
How deep does God's love run? Isaiah 49:15 poses a provocative question: "Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you!"
The Hebrew word for compassion used here—rachamim—comes from rechem, meaning womb. God's compassion is described as womb-love: the most primal, instinctive, unbreakable bond in human experience.
Think about what this means. God sets the highest standard of human love—a mother's bond with her child—and then declares that His love exceeds even that.
If your mother forgot you, emotionally or physically abandoned you, this verse speaks directly to your wound: the love you were owed had a source that never ran dry. If you had a wonderful mother, even that love was merely a reflection—God's love wearing a human face.
God's love will never forget you, even when human love fails.
The God Who Labors Over You
Perhaps the most surprising image comes from Isaiah 42:14, where God describes Himself this way: "I have long been silent; yes, I have restrained myself. But now, like a woman in labor, I will cry and groan and pant."
Before discomfort sets in, stay with this image. This is Scripture—God's own self-description.
No one endures labor unless what's coming forth on the other side matters more than the pain. God uses this intensely physical, vulnerable moment to describe His desire to bring something forth in your life. He isn't watching from a comfortable distance, unmoved by your struggles.
He is groaning over you. Pressing toward you. Laboring on your behalf.
The Divine Eagle Mother
Deuteronomy 32:11-12 offers another maternal image: "Like an eagle that rouses her chicks and hovers over her young, so he spread his wings to take them up and carried them safely on his pinions."
A mother eagle does something that looks cruel but is actually profoundly loving. She removes the soft feathers from the nest, making it uncomfortable. She pushes her young out into the terrifying unknown. As the eaglet falls, she dives beneath it, spreads her wings, and catches it on the hardest part of her wing—the pinions.
Then she does it again. And again. Each time pushing them a little farther, until they learn what they were created to do: soar.
There are seasons when God rouses us, disrupting our comfort and pushing us into growth. This isn't cruelty—it's the most loving thing He can do for creatures made to soar. And here's the promise: the same God who pushed you out is diving beneath you right now. He will not let you hit the ground.
Jesus Longing to Gather You
Even Jesus used maternal imagery to express His heart. In Matthew 23:37, He cried out: "How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn't let me."
The Son of God, the Lion of Judah, doesn't reach for power language here. He reaches for the image of a mother hen—tender, fierce, aching to gather, refusing to let go.
And then come the heartbreaking words: "but you wouldn't let me."
The only thing that stops this kind of love from reaching you is you.
The God Who Sings Over You
Zephaniah 3:17 offers this breathtaking promise: "For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."
God sings over you—not because you have it all together, not because you've earned it, but because that is who He is. A God who sings over His children. A God who calms fears with love. A God who delights in you.
The Whole Picture
This isn't new theology—it's ancient truth that got lost somewhere along the way. God has always been more than we've been told. He is:
The God they never told you about has known you since before you were born, has carried you every step of the way, labors over you, hovers over you, and longs to gather you.
And right now, wherever you are, He is singing over you.
Will you let Him?
Not everyone arrives at the same emotional doorstep on Mother's Day. Some celebrate with joy, surrounded by love and gratitude. Others carry the weight of grief—mourning loss, navigating complicated relationships, or wrestling with unfulfilled longings. Some stand courageously in the gap as grandmothers or aunties. Others quietly wonder if they're failing at motherhood, hoping no one notices the cracks.
Whatever your story, there's room for you in this conversation.
Because what if the God we've been taught to know is bigger, more tender, more nurturing than we ever imagined? What if the divine love we've been seeking has a dimension we've overlooked—one that carries the fierce tenderness of a mother's heart?
The Image We've Been Missing
We're comfortable calling God "Father to the fatherless," and rightly so. Scripture affirms this beautiful truth. But what happens when we need something different? What happens when we need to be held, comforted, and gathered with a tenderness that transcends what we've experienced?
Hidden in plain sight throughout Scripture are verses that reveal God using maternal imagery to describe His relationship with us. These aren't metaphors of convenience—they're intentional self-portraits of the Divine, painted with the most intimate human experiences imaginable.
Consider this stunning promise from Isaiah 66:13: "I will comfort you there in Jerusalem as a mother comforts her child."
God isn't promising to send comfort or arrange for someone else to provide it. He's pointing directly at Himself, saying, "I will comfort you—the way a mother comforts her child." He reaches for the most tender, instinctive image available in human experience to help us understand His heart toward us.
Carried Before Your First Breath
Long before you took your first breath, before you made your first mistake or earned your first achievement, God was already carrying you. Isaiah 46:3-4 paints this remarkable picture: "I have cared for you since you were born. Yes, I carried you before you were born. I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until your hair is white with age."
The Hebrew word used here for "carried" is nasa—meaning to lift, to bear, to carry what is precious. This isn't the language of a distant judge or an uninvolved creator. This is the vocabulary of a mother who carries life within her body, protecting what is vulnerable and precious.
From before your birth to after your hair turns gray, God has never checked out. He's been carrying you through every season, every struggle, every moment you thought you were alone.
If you've been carrying burdens by yourself for too long, this truth is for you: you were never meant to bear them alone.
Love That Runs Womb-Deep
How deep does God's love run? Isaiah 49:15 poses a provocative question: "Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you!"
The Hebrew word for compassion used here—rachamim—comes from rechem, meaning womb. God's compassion is described as womb-love: the most primal, instinctive, unbreakable bond in human experience.
Think about what this means. God sets the highest standard of human love—a mother's bond with her child—and then declares that His love exceeds even that.
If your mother forgot you, emotionally or physically abandoned you, this verse speaks directly to your wound: the love you were owed had a source that never ran dry. If you had a wonderful mother, even that love was merely a reflection—God's love wearing a human face.
God's love will never forget you, even when human love fails.
The God Who Labors Over You
Perhaps the most surprising image comes from Isaiah 42:14, where God describes Himself this way: "I have long been silent; yes, I have restrained myself. But now, like a woman in labor, I will cry and groan and pant."
Before discomfort sets in, stay with this image. This is Scripture—God's own self-description.
No one endures labor unless what's coming forth on the other side matters more than the pain. God uses this intensely physical, vulnerable moment to describe His desire to bring something forth in your life. He isn't watching from a comfortable distance, unmoved by your struggles.
He is groaning over you. Pressing toward you. Laboring on your behalf.
The Divine Eagle Mother
Deuteronomy 32:11-12 offers another maternal image: "Like an eagle that rouses her chicks and hovers over her young, so he spread his wings to take them up and carried them safely on his pinions."
A mother eagle does something that looks cruel but is actually profoundly loving. She removes the soft feathers from the nest, making it uncomfortable. She pushes her young out into the terrifying unknown. As the eaglet falls, she dives beneath it, spreads her wings, and catches it on the hardest part of her wing—the pinions.
Then she does it again. And again. Each time pushing them a little farther, until they learn what they were created to do: soar.
There are seasons when God rouses us, disrupting our comfort and pushing us into growth. This isn't cruelty—it's the most loving thing He can do for creatures made to soar. And here's the promise: the same God who pushed you out is diving beneath you right now. He will not let you hit the ground.
Jesus Longing to Gather You
Even Jesus used maternal imagery to express His heart. In Matthew 23:37, He cried out: "How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn't let me."
The Son of God, the Lion of Judah, doesn't reach for power language here. He reaches for the image of a mother hen—tender, fierce, aching to gather, refusing to let go.
And then come the heartbreaking words: "but you wouldn't let me."
The only thing that stops this kind of love from reaching you is you.
The God Who Sings Over You
Zephaniah 3:17 offers this breathtaking promise: "For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."
God sings over you—not because you have it all together, not because you've earned it, but because that is who He is. A God who sings over His children. A God who calms fears with love. A God who delights in you.
The Whole Picture
This isn't new theology—it's ancient truth that got lost somewhere along the way. God has always been more than we've been told. He is:
- A mother in labor, groaning and bringing forth life
- A nursing mother who cannot forget her child
- A mother eagle diving to catch what she loves
- A hen spreading her wings over frightened chicks.
- If the word "Father" has never felt safe, there is another door into the heart of God. If your earthly mother failed you, God is what a mother was always supposed to be. If you lost your mother, the love she carried came from somewhere—and that somewhere is God.
The God they never told you about has known you since before you were born, has carried you every step of the way, labors over you, hovers over you, and longs to gather you.
And right now, wherever you are, He is singing over you.
Will you let Him?
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