Another Mother’s Day
As I sit in a coffee house today, working on this blog post, I’ll admit it’s one I’ve struggled with writing. Today is Mother’s Day and the world is celebrating. It’s nice that we put aside one day a month to focus on our moms; but mothers should be celebrated everyday. Or at least every week.
But I know that I’m not alone in having mixed emotions about today’s celebration. I have many friends who have lost their mothers. The loneliness of their absence is still raw for most. And having a month with the never-ending advertisements constantly showing the happy families of adult children surprise visiting their moms, and young kids jumping into their beds, flowers in hand, and a dirty kitchen but appreciated breakfast awaiting them, only serves as reminders of what they’ll never experience again with their own mothers. And so they grieve.
Most of my friends whose mothers have passed away are also mothers themselves. For many of them the adoring young kids, considerate adult children, and thoughtful husband today may be exactly what they need to help balance the bittersweet moments of enjoying life without their mom. They take the celebration of being a mom to their own kids, while they quietly grieve the absence of celebrating their own mothers.
And then there are those who grieve today because they aren’t mothers. Some are married and have tried many times for their own children; others are unmarried, and feel time has passed them by. These are the women who seldom post their hurt and pain on social media, or talk about it in large groups; not even church. They have learned to remain quiet in their pain, because to speak up is often to be met with well-meaning, but not helpful rhetoric describing how women who are motherly towards other people’s kids are “just as much a mother as their biological ones.” And those who are quick to suggest adoption to a couple already struggling emotionally with why they can’t get pregnant “with my own child,” or to an older single person who hasn’t yet found that mate to spend the rest of her life with, but desire children nonetheless.
So when I read Beth Moore’s tweet this morning, I couldn’t help but post it for all to see. It was exactly what I needed to hear, as I spent my 13th year skipping out this Sunday morning. And for once, I didn’t feel guilty about remaining home.
“If you feel like sobbing, do. If you feel like going to church on Mother’s Day would crush your heart, don’t. You won’t lose your salvation because you don’t want to go to church on Mother’s Day. Grab pen and paper and get alone with God and pour out your heart to Him in full.” Beth Moore
In celebration of my sweet mom.
