Mother's Day 2014: after changing his stinky diaper, my two year old dashes off to pick out his clothes for the day, returning with an okay shirt (only a small spaghetti stain) and a pair of clashing, hideous green pants, which would be fine if we didn't have to go to church. So off we march to the nursery to negotiate on wardrobe. This stubborn little soul insists on his choice, even when I suggest a cute pair of khakis, but finally we compromise on a pair of blue jeans. And of course, there must be an object lesson in this familiar morning ritual, else I would not be boring you with it.
I have seen a few articles and posts recently in both the secular and Christian world that bemoan Mother's Day because it makes all those women who are not mothers, whether by choice or not, feel bad. I was one of those women for many years and I feel their pain and frustration, but as much as this holiday tends to rub salt in the wounds of many, is it proper to forgo celebrating something as vital as motherhood because of it? Especially in this day and age of disposable children, family collapse, and moral breakdown when mothers are more important than ever, particularly in the church where motherhood was established by and is blessed by God? And what does this have to do with green pants? I'm not sure, keep reading and we may both find out.
Mother's Day 2005: I am a graduate student sitting patiently in church while they pass out the flowers, resigned (content, in my meager understanding) that I will never be a mother or wife, I haven't been on a date since the turn of the century and there is only one single man in our young adult group of 26 women. I felt, to paraphrase Miss Katherine Brook from the Anne of Green Gables Sequel, "prepare to join the ranks of cold, uninteresting spinsters who have chosen a career over marriage," except that I had not chosen my fate.
Mother's Day 2006: Strangely enough I am engaged, about to graduate with my doctorate, have a job and apartment lined up, and life is going perfectly! Bring on the flowers!
Mother's Day 2011: Mother's Day is most acutely painful to those who are desperately wishing to be mothers but can't, especially those on an adoption waiting list wondering if their day will ever come. Not only does this day hurt above all others, every other woman in the church is pregnant (and showing) or has a blissful infant asleep in those adorable baby carrier things. When will my day of contentment, pride, and bliss come? Pass the salt.
Mother's Day 2012: I am a mother at last, but where is the bliss? We finally got the call back in February that someone wanted us to parent their child, the baby was born three weeks ago, and it is my first official mother's day, but I am not one of those blissful new mom's I remember from last year. I am working more than full time, am suffering from some nameless, chronic disease that makes me tired and achy all the time, have a new baby in the house, am struggling with my emotions regarding my own mother and her lack of feelings towards me, and worry that somehow this whole adoption thing will fall through. When they ask the mothers to stand, I wearily comply and wonder where is the joy?
Mother's Day 2013: The adoption is final, so no more worries about them taking my son away, but my health is worse and now my job is on the rocks; at least our now 1 year old is sleeping through the night. A flower, how nice, but how am I going to pay off my student loans and afford the rent when I lose my job?
Mother's Day 2014: A year ago I could never have imagined things working out this way! I lost my job, but I needed to lose it. The thing of which I was most afraid turned out to be a great blessing. This year I actually feel like a mother! I have my health back, I actually have the energy to be the mom I want to be. And without a 60 hour a week position I am actually able to spend a little time with my family. God has provided more abundantly than I could have ever imagined. Pass the flowers!
It is fun (and humbling) to look back over the years and see what God hath wrought. While I lost faith, wept, pitied myself, worried, prayed grievously, struggled, and otherwise despaired, God had a plan and a place for me, He intended better for me than I had planned for myself. When will I ever learn to trust Him? Much like my plans for my son (and his wardrobe), what he wants and what I intend are often far different and hopefully none of us ever have to 'compromise' with God and settle for something less than His best for us.
What does this have to do with Mother's Day? For all of you waiting (and hoping) to one day be mothers yourselves, be patient and rejoice with your sisters, remembering that their seeming bliss may not be as perfect as you imagine and that one day your own time may come, even if it does not, we are commanded to 'weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice.' There is often little enough reason to rejoice in this often grim and weary world, let us not grow bitter and sour towards those who are seemingly more fortunate because of our own griefs, for we all have secret disappointments and struggles of which others are unaware. Canceling Mother's Day because it causes many pain would be like not remembering your anniversary after you are widowed, while yes it brings an ache that cannot be healed this side of eternity, it also reminds us of happy years together and honors something worth remembering. It is never wrong to celebrate that which is good, wonderful, beautiful, honorable, and wrought with the laughter and tears of a lifetime. Such is motherhood. So even in your pain, rejoice that there is such a thing at all! For where would the world be without devoted and sacrificing mothers? Your day may come, or it may not, but even so, 'Blessed be the Name of the Lord!' Even Jesus wept with the mourners of Lazarus when He knew He would soon raise him from the dead; we do not know our own story before time, but it is our duty to look beyond our own circumstances and care about the circumstances of others, whether joyous or aggrieved, as they should remember us in turn. So smile through the tears, hope through the grief, and know that one day, 'all things shall be made new.' Trite, perhaps, but nonetheless true.
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