Here is a detail of the famed and much-loved, early 12th century icon of the Vladimir Mother of God. It is of the Eleousa type or style: The Tenderness Mother of God.
We see this tender affection evident in the Holy Child looking up to his mother. The two stand cheek to cheek. His left hand reaches around his mother's neck. But the deepest message of intimacy is seen in her eyes, which do not return the Child's gaze, but which look into our own.
They are suffering eyes. Maybe Mary has just heard Simeon's "sword of sorrow" news (Luke 2:22-40). I'd suggest there is more - perhaps Mary's sorrowing eyes have a global or even cosmic significance. The Vladimir Mother of God is Russia's national icon, having presided over that nation in all of its centuries old suffering. That is largely the suffering of invasions and wars - perhaps most pointedly the great and most costly wars of the 20th century.
But human beings can make short-shrift of the uncomfortable things, so let us make plain the Works of War so we may not sentimentalize the Mother's gaze, but appreciate all the more the commensurate depth and intensity of her kind mercy.
The Works of War:
human ashpoison clouds
the spoiling of farms, forests and fields
the seizure and disruption of food supplies
starvation
the incineration of cities, homes and villages
the scattering of families
the contamination of soil and water
the imprisonment of dissenters
the inflicting of wounds and burns
the violation of women
the terrorizing and murdering of children
the creating of orphans
the spread of disease
the desecration of sacred places
the silencing of birds and bells
the destruction of beauty
carpet bombing
genocide
execution
mass graves
flame and theft
the degrading and deadening of consciences
the idolatry of power - its degradation of persons
the emptying of language
the waste of money and war profiteering
the instilling of suspicion and fear
the hate-claim of hearts
In my meditation, I can sit before these eyes of giving and receiving. I imagine to my right there are persons whose lives are all-suffering: the people of North and South Carolina flooded out in a hurricane, the asylum seekers at our southern border - the children separated from their mothers, the Syrian refugees forced to escape their bombed out city, the damaged soldiers returning home from a war they didn't even understand, the Pope who is navigating a Church tattered by scandal, family members (friends or acquaintances) who are burdened, sick or troubled...
Then I imagine taking the suffering from those persons to my right, and being mindful of my own grief or pain, I hand it over to the eyes of the Mother of God in the icon here. From her eyes she gives her tender mercy. I can sit in this circular meditation for some few minutes or even longer: giving to and receiving from her. I might synchronize the giving and receiving with my slowed breaths. It is a silent prayer of compassionate heart-awakening.
