This Mother's Day...

This Mother’s Day, there are so many things I could take for granted. I could complain about the fact that there’s an actual blizzard happening outside right now halfway through May (no really, I couldn’t joke about something so painful), or that I’m feeling under the weather, or that my toddler spent his whole “nap” screaming from his crib that he wanted to eat chips. I could gloss over (as I too often do) the reality that though the days are filled with lots of needs and wants, I’m blessed with every intangible I could ever wish for, both this Mother’s Day and every other day. I have so, so much to be thankful for. I get to spend each day with my beautiful children; my own loving, supportive mom is just a phone call away; my doting husband has spent this day and so many others spoiling me to no end.

So today, I am doing my best to cherish those things that others do not get to take for granted, and trying to lift up in prayer those who are living a very different reality. Just yesterday we learned that Peter’s young cousin passed away; I can’t help but think of his sweet mother who a day later is having to face her first Mother’s Day without her son. Our hearts are just aching for her, for her husband, and for their daughters who--instead of celebrating today--are utterly crippled with the grief of a lost son and brother.

I am thinking of all of the other mothers who, like her, are aching to spend Mother’s Day a child who is no longer here. I am thinking of all the daughters and sons who wish they could send a card or have brunch, but their mothers are aren’t on this earth. I’m thinking of those whose mothers are still living, but instead of a joyous celebration, they carry the grief and stress of strained relationships or deep hurt or failing health.

I’m thinking of all the mothers who don’t have the incredible support of a family or husband that they deserve. The moms who would give anything to spend the day with their children instead of driving off to work. The single moms who wake up alone every day and work to be everything and more for their kids and get little or no recognition in return. The mothers and children separated by distance and tragedy, the girls from Nigeria and their mothers who with every beat of their heart ache to be reunited.

As I consider all the heartache that for some will overshadow the joy of this day, I’m thankful we have the example of a heavenly mother who has been there in every way. She is a mother who personally and intimately embraced the indescribable joy of motherhood—a mother who has felt the burn of all-consuming love for the child God gave her, then just as intimately lived the heart-rending grief of holding the body of the son she carried and raised and poured her soul into—only to let him go. And through it all, she clung to the promise that God’s truth and love would win in the end. So I’m thankful that even in the raw realness of suffering and injustice of this world, even on this day that should be joyful for all but is agony for some, we can rely on the example of our Savior’s mom; we can cling to that same promise, we can lean on the same hope—that God’s love and everlasting happiness will win in the end. I’m thankful that God made motherhood such a pivotal role in the human experience; so important, in fact, that he wanted his own son to experience it in the midst of His plan to save the world. And I’m thankful that—when aligned with His will—motherhood can still be one of the most meaningful and redemptive experiences for women and children alike.

So today, though my heart is heavy for others, I am reveling in the little blessings and happy and funny moments that should always matter so much: Our little saints who are always praying for us even when I’m too busy to think of them. My Erik who said he wants to marry me when he grows up (a dream quickly and pitifully crushed by his Daddy who revealed that I’m already taken). My Marie who spent all week sneaking around making Mother’s Day projects for me. And who wrote about the day I was so weary that I put on a movie and made oatmeal for dinner as one of her favorite memories.

My Ethan who still asks to snuggle with me, and who made the observation earlier (after asking if he could pee and toot and poop on the potty) that the words “poop” and “toot” rhyme (boys and their potty humor).  My incredible husband who was not only influential in giving me the gift of my motherhood, but who supports me in word and deed every step of the way. My own mother, who has given me so many gifts and experiences that I could write a book (or ten). 

Many days and in many ways it is a hard life. Many days it is an unbelievably wonderful life. But above all, it is always, always a blessed life!