One of the beauties of Catholicism is that there are many saints, with many different paths to finding Christ and loving Him. The Franciscans live their life as Christ the Servant, serving the poorest of the poor to find their way to Him. The Missionaries of Mercy (The order founded by Mother Theresa) also found charity to be their path towards God. Dominicans teach, and this Christ as Teacher mentality is what is the heart of the charism of their order. Carmelites find God through learning to love Him and forming an intimate relationship with him through contemplative prayer. Those who follow the teaching of St. Francis de Sales and St. Alphonsus are strong believers in accepting the providence of God and living a virtuous life as the simplest path of God.
Each of these particular ways of looking at God and paths to get to Him has a different way of seeing Mary. I have never read St. Louis de Montfort, and the few times I’ve tried, I’ve immediately set the book down. I think it’s the concept of being a slave to Mary that just doesn’t quite work for me and my spirituality right now. And that’s okay. I may read him someday and have a totally different relationship with Mary than I do now. But for now, that is not the book I need to read.
My relationship with Mary has been very largely formed by the words of St. Therese in “Story of a Soul.” Her Little Way is based in Christ’s teaching of coming to him as a little child. She sees herself as a small child, full of innocence and grace, completely dependent on the love of her Divine Sun (Christ), and she sees herself dependent on the love and protection of her Mother, Mary. Instead of being a servant of Mary, she truly sees Mary as anyone would see their mother - as a teacher, as a confident, as a protector, as someone who offers consolation and safety and love. When a child falls and skins their knee, the first thing they do is run to their mother. And this is how she approaches Mary, someone to turn to when she needs the loving attention of a mom. She approaches Mary as a little child would approach their own mother - with humble confidence that by simply asking with love, the mother will give all that she asks and more. She describes her relationship with Mary in relation to receiving the eucharist in the most beautiful way:
She also sees Mary as one to console her when she is having difficulty in prayer:
I view Mary as a protector, and as a guide to her Son. I see her as a perfect role model, and constantly work to hear the words of God and ponder them in my heart as she did. I wear my brown scapular every day in honor of Her, and as a reminder to live my life in the way that she lived hers.
I still struggle in “knowing” her, as I sometimes struggle with “knowing” Christ. But when I want to remember Christ’s humanity, and think of Mary’s influence on those around her regarding her son, I think of Christ at the wedding of Cana. Here they are, Christ, and his mom, and his friends, at a celebration. The libations run out, and his mother turns to him and says, “They have no wine.” Now that’s a woman of subtlety - I can only imagine the look on her face when she said it. He tested her by saying (and I’m paraphrasing him), “And that’s my business how?” But instead of being rebuffed, and knowing that he would do what she asks, she turns to the servants at the wedding and says, “Do whatever he tells you.” Just the mental image of Mary looking at him and very subtly suggesting to him to help with the social situation amuses me. But it’s also bittersweet, because in that moment, she knows that what she is doing is facilitating his ministry here on earth, the beginning of the end as it were.
I hope this helps in some way.