You may have seen the “I met my younger self for coffee” trend that recently captivated the social media world. As the name implies, these popular videos depict the creators, usually women, having an imaginary conversation with their younger selves as a way of reflecting on the past and celebrating life’s little (and not so little) victories. While I have never participated in this trend myself, after seeing them blitz through my feed day after day, an idea blossomed: What if I met Mary for coffee? And what if I made this a weekly practice?
A Perfect Plan
I would call it “Mornings with Mary,” and instead of simply staying at home to pray and ponder beside the Queen of Heaven, I would be intentional about choosing the ideal spot for our time together, just like I would if I were meeting a friend. Mary was, in fact, my Saint of the year, and I was certain that these scheduled outings would strengthen my relationship with her and deepen my faith. I could almost imagine the smile on her face as she greeted me each week, not to mention the treasure trove of feminine wisdom I was going to glean from her maternal heart.
The First Saturday
Since Saturdays are traditionally dedicated to our Lady, I chose Saturday as my designated day to spend in her presence. On the morning of our first “meeting,” I donned a blue dress and my favorite Marian jewelry to express my devotion.
I had planned to get out of the house early so I could attend daily Mass before our coffee date. But, right out of the gate, things didn’t go as planned. Various happenings at home derailed my intentions, and I missed Mass.
By the time I headed out the door, it could hardly be called “morning,” and while I carried a spirit of readiness along with the prayer journal I had purchased for the occasion, I couldn’t decide where to go. I’m not the type of person who typically frequents coffee shops, so I didn’t have many options at my fingertips. However, I knew I needed to find a place that wasn’t super busy or loud. (Bonus points if the owners were Catholic!)
No Refuge
I finally settled on a local cafe. Closing time was approaching, which I assumed meant I could evade the morning rush and still be able to revel in the sweet quiet of Mary’s company for the next hour or so.
Boy, was I wrong.
I stepped inside, only to find the tiny cafe bustling with activity. As I placed my order, my eyes scanned the space, hoping to find somewhere I could at least eat my turkey sandwich in peace. To my disappointment, guests were crammed in every corner, engaged in lively chatter as they enjoyed their mid-day lattes.
I was confused as to why the Lord had led me here. Instead of a sanctuary to nurture quiet reflection with His Mother, I found myself at a noisy community hub clutching a to-go bag and a heavy heart.
A Garden Enclosed
Back at my car, I did the only sensible thing someone in my situation could do: I called my mother (my earthly one!). As she rattled off some ideas, I remembered the public—and practically secret—garden beautifully tucked away behind a nearby historic mansion, perfect for anyone seeking solitude and refreshment. My hope buoyed, I happily informed my mom where I was headed. Surely, this would be my last stop.
Gone With the Wind
The sun shone welcomingly as I sauntered down the meandering path toward the garden. I thought of Father Mark-Mary Ames’ reflection from Day 5 of the Rosary in a Year podcast, in which he compared praying the Rosary to walking in the mystical garden of Mary’s heart, which is all beautiful and fragrant with the breath of Heaven.
As much as I loved this image, the breath of Heaven was a little too fierce that day. No sooner had I pulled out my rosary beads to pray then the sun ducked behind a cloud and the wind picked up, whipping hair into my face and making it hard to walk. I tried to push through my prayers, but my spring dress was no match for the strong gusts, and I gave up.
A Mother’s Love Revealed
Tired and defeated, I decided to drive to the adoration chapel as a last-ditch effort. Oddly enough, when I got there, I couldn’t muster up the gumption to go inside. As I sat in my car, recalling all that had taken place, I suddenly perceived the calming peace of Mary’s presence. It was as if her hand were in mine as she gently walked me through the muddled moments of my day. With every memory we re-visited, Mary reminded me that she saw me as she offered me glimpses of her own life with Jesus.
In my struggle to get out the door, she saw me as she and Joseph made the long and laborious journey to Bethlehem to fulfill the census (see Luke 2:1-5).
When I came to the over-crowded cafe, she saw me as she searched for a place to deliver the Savior, only to find there was no room for lodging (see Luke 2:6-7).
When the weather turned harsh, causing me to flee my place of prayer, she saw me as she hurriedly departed the comfort of her home to avoid the threatening wind of Herod’s wrath (see Matthew 2:13-14).
And when I reached the end of my rope outside the chapel, she saw me as the couple’s wine ran out and she went to Jesus to intercede on their behalf (see John 2:1-5).
“The mother of Jesus was there” (John 2:1). Yes, she was, dear sister. And she is there for you too.
Invite Mary into the Mess
My “Morning with Mary” might not have been ideal, but that is precisely the point!
Mary doesn’t want the pristine version of us or of our lives. Her holy heart isn’t rattled or repelled by our imperfections. We can come to her just as we are and she is ready to accept us as her daughters with unshakeable compassion and grace. It is good to remember the words of Father Mark-Mary here: “We can put down our masks, our ongoing labor of constantly presenting our best selves, of performing, of hiding . . .” (source) and simply approach the woman who is accessible to every feminine heart and state of life.
In every mystery of our lives, be it joyful, sorrowful, or just downright confusing, she will meet us with open arms.
And in the end, we will grow closer to Jesus through our closeness to her.
