I've always enjoyed Mother's Day. From an early age I delighted in crafting lovely cards, finding "perfect" gifts, planning breakfast-in-bed, and making sure all my siblings were on their best behavior for Mom's big day. Memories of my dad and uncles cooking and serving their wives a beautiful meal are impressed upon my heart; this is what real, loving men do {serve, bless the mothers of their children}.
Her children rise up and call her blessed (happy, fortunate, and to be envied);
and her husband boasts of and praises her, [saying],
Many daughters have done virtuously, nobly, and well [with the strength of character that is steadfast in goodness], but you excel them all.
Honoring the woman who denies herself a thousand times a day makes sense. It should be done on Mother's Day and every day.
But for many people, my adult-self included, Mother's Day can be emotionally complex.
I will never forget the first year I sat in church, wiggling uncomfortably in my chair and fighting back tears as the pastor invited all the mothers to stand. Applause roared in waves as they identified the mother with the most children! the mother with the oldest children! the newest mother! only {finally} concluding when each mother had received a rose. That was my first year of infertility---reality crashing in: I was not part of the club, there is no "A" for effort, no honorable mention for desire. This is a hard pill to swallow. It's no one's fault. It just is.
Like pregnancy announcements, my general preference for Mother's Day celebration is this: If you feel led to acknowledge me in some way {though you certainly don't need to and most times it's best not to} please leave my struggles out of it.
I want to celebrate you as a mother. When I sing "Celebration" and you echo with "Everybody Hurts" things get weird. That discerning vertebra at the base of my skull starts aching, indicating cloud cover, predicting imminent rainfall on your parade. In a moment when all I want to do is rejoice over you and affirm what God has done, we are all left feeling awkward. Until of course I break out into an Austin Powers dance tribute and redirect the spotlight {works every.time.}.
Joking {and coping} aside, it's tricky for all of us. I know your intentions are golden. Motherhood is not an idol for you; neither a victory platform for passing on the family name nor an entrance ticket into "real" womanhood. You are not the women of the Bible who provoke, despise, and harbor contempt for your barren sister. You remember, you care. You are fruitful and lovely.
Charm and grace are deceptive, and beauty is vain [because it is not lasting], but a woman who reverently and worshipfully fears the Lord, she shall be praised!
So how do we do this dance?
If you know someone who hurts {outwardly or not} on Mother's Day, consider simple acts of remembrance. Keep it private and genuine. Hug a little longer. Give a warm & steady squeeze of her hands. Send an sweet "I love you." Try "thank you," or "I'm so glad you're here," instead of "thanks for celebrating with me" {the latter suggests a low opinion of her character}. Assure through tender action, "Nothing changes who you are or what you mean to me."
If you struggle on Mother's Day, be gentle with yourself and generous with others. Guard your heart. Clothe yourself with radiant confidence in God. Receive quiet recognition with grace and gratitude. Love deeply and celebrate with those around you. Humble yourself {say the hard "yes"} and He will lift you up.
The fight against self-pity and depression intensifies when days like this stir up hunger pangs. In these moments we have to fight against the fleshy aches, the temptation to crumble. In these moments the Lord reminds me that I don't survive on bread alone {sustenance that burns off, is temporal} but on every word that comes from God {life-giving sustenance that endures}.
Remember what He has said:
*I will never leave you, nor forsake you.
*Be still and know that I am God.
*I chose you and appointed you to bear fruit- fruit that lasts.
*The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame.
*Grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ... know this love that surpasses knowledge.
*I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
We don't have to be discouraged or depressed. We don't have to avoid each other or be full of dread. God is the giver of life. This is a day He has made, we can rejoice and be glad. I celebrate all the beautiful women who give their bodies and lives to their children! I praise God for the children He has made! I am thankful for His promises!
Happy Mother's Day!
I will sing the Lord’s praise, for He has been good to me.
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