As we head into a weekend that might be a mixture of emotions for you, I want to offer this reminder that you are seen and loved. God knows…
Maybe Mother’s Day makes you sad because you’re mourning a mom who has died.
Maybe Mother’s Day is hard for you because you’d like to have kids but you don’t (for all kinds of reasons and situations that I can’t even begin to name here in this small space).
Maybe it’s a day of ache because your womb has known both life and loss and you miss those babes you barely knew.
Maybe it’s a day filled with pain because your relationship with your own mom is strained. Maybe your mom just did a really horrible job of momming.
Maybe it’s a day of pulling back in discouragement because your adult children have walked away or shut you out.
Maybe Mother’s Day if filled with regret because you chose abortion and this day serves as a painful reminder.
Maybe you feel guilty because you do have kids but they’re driving you nuts in this season and you’re tapped out. But you feel like you shouldn’t be.
Maybe you come into Mother’s Day scared because you are swollen up huge and ready to burst with a new life but you’re overwhelmed or alone or feeling inadequate.
Maybe you’re full of “what ifs” because you’re a mom who only held her baby for a moment before giving her as a gift to know another as mom. And sometimes you wonder about her.
Of course, it’s also a day full of joy and honor for so many. Many of whom might celebrate today but have been somewhere on this list too.
I love that our Jesus can acknowledge both. That rejoicing at motherhood doesn’t mean excluding those who haven’t experienced it or are saddened by it. No. It’s not all or nothing. Instead, we rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. We enter in with one another because His grace is sufficient for all of it. For every sigh of contented delight AND for every tear cried in an empty rocker.
We trust that He sees. He knows. He has taken on flesh and entered into it with us. That He is the Sovereign Lord in both the mourning and the rejoicing. And that He is always making all things new.
“Oh El Roi… in Genesis we find you there as the God Who Sees. We are so thankful that you see us – just like you saw both Hagar and Sarah. One in her pain and desperation. The other in her moment of incredulous laughter. Thank you for meeting us both in that place of plenty and in the parched wilderness.
We offer both to you, trusting in your loving kindness. Here in open hands we give you both our broken dreams and our most precious mom moments.
Help us to see with your eyes. To be conduits of your grace and mercy in other women’s stories.
I’m so glad you made me a woman! I know I am part of a beautiful sisterhood and that we reflect your image as life givers. Thank you for creating us girls with the unique capacity to nurture life – whether we ever bear children or not.”
Happy Mother’s Day, life givers. Your story is precious, and you are all breathtakingly beautiful in your design.
When the convulsions stopped, she laid there so still. Although it was a welcome respite from the seizing, it was too still and quiet for my liking. I knew that she was still breathing but I had no idea how long it would take before she came back to me. How long would it be before her soft hands uncurled and her long, lean body relaxed and her beautiful, blue eyes opened? I didn’t know. We’d never done this before. Her seizures had always been the “staring spell” kind before.