The Fifth Glorious Mystery

The Coronation of Mary
Fruit of the Mystery: Eternal Happiness

Job Filled: Queen of the Universe

My twelve-year-old daughter was being especially bossy during lunch.

My son, fifteen months her junior, rolled his eyes. “The job of Queen of the Universe is already taken.”

Ouch. Catholic burn.

But thank God that job already is taken. Who but our glorious and immaculate mother could take on such a weighty role? 

When Instagram challenges us to outdo each other in the domestic realm or Facebook demands we crush those whose viewpoints oppose our own, we must recognize that we can’t start down that path of inevitable defeat. Because we are not sinless. We do not have the picture-perfect life or all the answers to the world’s problems. The only perfect woman among us is Mary.

What a relief that we don’t have to be. And what a revelation that this incredible woman is our mother.

I don’t have to be Queen of the Universe because Mary’s already doing it, I have found my mother and am learning all over again how to be her child.


When I first became a mom, I felt disconnected from Mary. Instead of bringing us together, motherhood in my mind seemed to put an unbridgeable chasm between us. How could I emulate this immaculate, sinless mother? The feeling was compounded when I was suddenly surrounded by a gaggle of little ones and I never knew how short my fuse could be. Mary and I couldn’t be more different.

But then, in my smallness and drowning in my maternal overwhelm, I stopped trying to compare myself to Mary. Instead, I reached out to her as a daughter and I felt the great power of her tender motherhood immediately.

Instead of trying to push myself in vain to imitate her perfection, I could flee to her mantle. I can run to her in times of temptation and ask for her to pick me up when I can’t go on. 

I lose her when I overestimate myself, when I let my ambitions for worldly success run wild, when I fight against the duties and responsibilities our Lord has gently laid on my shoulders. I find her when I ask her to remain with me as I do the laundry even though I’m pretty sure my heart’s going to shrivel up and die if I have to put away one more load.

I lose her when I compare myself to other moms, when I want the mission they’ve been sent on, when I envy what looks to me like an easier life. I find her when I can join her in thanking God for the dazzling and beautiful but frightening path He’s set out for me.

I lose her when I run away from my feelings into a sleeve of cookies. I find her when I ask her to hold my hand because the enormous boredom of being at home is crushing my spirit.

In realizing that I don’t have to be Queen of the Universe because Mary’s already doing it, I have found my mother and am learning all over again how to be her child. I could never measure up to this incredible woman, but I don’t have to. All I need to do is give her my hand.

“I place trust in God, my creator, in all things; I love Him with all my heart.” -St. Joan of Arc 

Anonymous: All women’s stories are valuable. The option of anonymous story submissions exists for those who desire to share their wisdom and experiences but would prefer not to be acknowledged publicly. Thank you for sharing your story!

Published by Cait Winters

I'm Cait, a Massachusetts mom of 3 living in a small, woodsy town with my kids, husband and dog. I'm a freelance writer, aspiring author and poet at heart who loves writing about the wonders of the simple life. Email:

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