To Be Like HER: Remembering the Divine Feminine in our Spiritual Language
I. Introduction: Reading Between the Lines
When I first read the latest version of the Young Women Theme, I felt a moment of hope. "I am a beloved
daughter of heavenly parents..." For the first time, both divine parents were named, not just the
Father. But as I continued reading, something in me shifted.
The theme quickly transitions: "As a disciple of Jesus Christ, I strive to become like Him..." I paused.
I re-read it. The message, though subtle, was loud in its implication: You come from Her, but you
must become like Him. It is like nothing has changed
Where is She?
II. The Silence Around Heavenly Mother
In our theology, we claim to believe in a Heavenly Mother. We say she exists. We are told She is
sacred. But when it comes to teachings, stories, characteristics, or guidance, we are left with...
nothing.
We say, "Heavenly Parents," yet Heavenly Mother is veiled--no stories, no scriptures, no attributes we're encouraged to emulate. She is honored with silence, and yet silence is rarely experienced as honor. For many women and girls, it feels like erasure.
For young women--spiritual seekers, identity shapers, and blossoming souls--this absence becomes defining. We teach them they are divine, and then we hand them only one model of divinity to follow: male.
What we have left of our Mother are but echoes and reflections--hints of Her that shimmer through the stories of women in scripture. Eve. Esther. Mary. Ruth. Deborah. But even their stories are small and slight, often filtered through a masculine lens. And the teachings we glean from them tend to reinforce the masculine framework we already have, rather than inviting us into deeper relationship with the feminine parts of ourselves, or with Mother Herself.
III. The Power of Representation
We become what we behold.
If all the stories we hear, all the attributes we strive toward, and all the divine expressions we are given are masculine, we are silently trained to filter our own femininity through a masculine lens. Our worth is measured by how well we align with Him.
But girls are not boys in disguise. Women are not men with different costumes. The feminine has its own sacred rhythm, wisdom, power, and presence. And without Her--without stories and symbols of the Divine Feminine--we teach our daughters to disown half of themselves.
IV. Astrology as a Language of Remembering
This is why astrology has become such a powerful framework for me. It names what religion has forgotten. It remembers Her.
In astrology, the sky is filled with archetypes of the Divine Feminine:
- Juno: the queen, goddess of sacred partnership and sovereignty. She reminds us that commitment is sacred, and that we must also commit to ourselves.
- Pallas Athena: warrior of wisdom, strategy, and creativity. She teaches us to balance intellect and intuition.
- Vesta: keeper of the hearth and sacred flame. She represents our inner devotion and the space we guard within.
- Ceres: mother of nourishment, loss, and renewal. She walks with us through grief and teaches us the cycles of life.
These goddesses--these asteroids--carry the echoes of Her voice. They show us that the Divine Feminine is not a monolith. She is fierce and soft, wise and wild, nurturing and sovereign.
But astrology isn't the only place She can be found. Symbols of the Divine Feminine--our Heavenly Mother--are found in numerous civilizations, many of them ancient. Asherah, Isis, and others are beings and archetypes of Her. And sacred symbols like the moon, lotus flower, pomegranate, and countless others can teach us of Her presence, Her rhythms, and Her attributes. Her image is everywhere, if only we learn to see.
V. A New Vision: To Be Like Her
What if the theme read:
"I am a beloved daughter of heavenly parents. As a disciple of Christ and child of my Heavenly Mother, I strive to become like Them."
What if we gave girls the language to see Her, not just assume Her? What if we spoke of Her stories the way we speak of the Savior's? What if we remembered Her not as a symbol of silence, but as a living archetype of all the sacred feminine power we have been taught to forget?
VI. Conclusion: She Is Not Absent, Only Unnamed
The absence of Heavenly Mother in our teachings is not because She is not real. It is because we have not made room for Her voice. But She is there, in every whisper of intuition, in every birth, in every moment of sacred creation. She is in the stars, in the soil, in the songs we haven't sung yet.
Maybe She has been waiting for us to remember.
And maybe it's time.
If a religion that proclaims to worship both a Heavenly Father and a Heavenly Mother makes no space for Her--no stories, no rituals, no symbols, no invitations to emulate Her--then those who long for Her will begin to seek Her elsewhere. And they should. Because the hunger for Her is holy. It is not rebellion--it is remembrance.
And this need is not limited to women and girls. Men are also sons of a Heavenly Mother. And no matter how strong, stoic, or spiritual they may be, even they need their mother at some point. The absence of Her is felt in all of us.
Longing for a relationship with our Mother does not detract from the mission, majesty, or divinity of our beloved Savior. If anything, it strengthens and deepens it. Because not only did our Father in Heaven give us His Son, our Mother did too. She loves Him. She loves us. And She is part of this story.
And now, it is Easter. A time of renewal, rebirth, and resurrection. A time when the veil between Heaven and Earth feels thin, and the Spirit stirs deeply. As we reflect on Christ’s sacrifice and triumph over death, I can’t help but wonder if our Mother was there too. Holding space. Weeping with us. Rejoicing in the return of Her Son.
Easter is filled with symbols of HER: the empty tomb (the sacred womb transformed), the garden (where new life begins), the lilies, the egg. These are Her offerings, too. And perhaps, in this sacred season, we are meant to remember not just what He did for us -- but what She gave, too.
I am friends with several people already working to bring back Her voice. They are doing great work teaching and guiding women back to our beloved Mother. Though I may not be teaching, I am seeking--and I am finding. Ask, and ye shall receive (Matthew 7:7).
My voice needs to be heard. And so does yours.
Has your heart and voice been awoken to the call of our Mother?
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For those feeling this same ache, you are not alone. The longing for Her is the beginning of remembering Her. And in remembering Her, we begin to remember ourselves.