Happy (or Not-So-Much) Mother’s Day

I want to be happy on Mother’s Day, but I also want to be sensitive.

So many raw territories to navigate: the first Mother’s Day without your mom, or feeling around the edges of the fissure that was left years ago by her death, Alzheimer’s, rejection, abuse, neglect, or serious strain. Mother’s Day when you have a wayward child, a child in heaven, or one you worry may beat you there. Missing siblings your mother bore. Missing a dearly loved grandmother who was like a mother. Missing the woman who modeled for you what your own mother or grandmother never did. Missing a dear mentor even though you had a fine mother or grandmother, or both. Missing the mother of your children, or the one responsible for making you a mother – either through death or rejection. Witnessing a dear friend or sister who’s lost her baby while you have a healthy, whole one. Struggling to parent from a disease-ravaged body. Struggling with caring for a child you don’t want. Struggling with wanting a child you don’t have. Missing what everyone else’s womb seems to conceive except yours. Waiting for the adoption to finally come through. Being a foster mom with all its unique challenges. And likely, there are more situations I have neglected to mention.

At the same time, you may be brimming over with gratitude – for the persons who are in your life. For beautiful memories forever imprinted in your heart. For opportunities to honor the memory of a loved one. For conversations had and letters written. For lessons taught and remembered. For photos and memorabilia. For hands to hold, and noses to wipe. For hugs shared. For opportunities that hold promise. For another today together.

Quite the mixed bag of emotions.

Especially right now, may you be given tender mercies, a gentle handling of your soul, and blessings uniquely tailored to your needs this week and weekend. If Mother’s Day is more of a minefield, may you be given solace in our Heavenly Father. May you be enabled, figuratively speaking, to climb up onto His lap like a child with her loving, perfect father and rest your head on His shoulder, in prayer – with no pressure to say anything. May you know that God hears your heart, prays for you when you have no clue what to pray or how, and sense that He’s experiencing your pain, your mixed emotions with you. May your heart be hugged and God’s balm poured into all the places that nothing else can reach.

Sending so much love to you, friend. Please remember to give yourself grace and be as kind to yourself as you would toward a dear friend.

If Mother’s Day is not a minefield for you – at least not this year – may you be given permission to be as happy as your heart can stand, not having any of your joy robbed, while remaining sensitive to those around you who may not be in the same place. May your joy overflow into comfort for others, not taking on the pain of others as a drain on your joy, but as your sensitivity enables you to both rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn, may God bless you richly with peace, love, joy, gentleness, all the fruit of the Spirit. May your family time be sweet and unadorned by anything except love.

May you know to your core how deeply loved you are.