To Mothers Everywhere

I’ve shared plenty about my road to motherhood. It was littered with roadblocks, detours, and potholes so big they nearly swallowed me whole. I never tire of sharing my story, of recognizing how God gave me the strength to keep going and the reward that met me in the end; rewards aptly named Providence and Justice. I know my story is just one of millions though, and with Mother’s Day on the horizon, I want to recognize the road others have traveled or are perhaps still navigating. Each one is important. Each one is made up of its own unique challenges. Each one holds valuable lessons. Each one is worth the journey. Mothers still waiting, mothers in mourning, mothers who sacrificed, mothers who are in the thick of raising littles or sitting in an empty nest, mothers everywhere, you are seen. 

I remember well that sense of dread and sadness that enveloped me on Mother’s Day when I was still longing to be a mom. At church, our pastor would honor moms by asking them to stand. Every mom would be given a single carnation on her way out of the sanctuary. My friends would attend Mother’s Day teas at their children’s preschools and cover my social media feed with sweet pictures of themselves sharing brunch with their precious little ones. It was a torturous day. Every moment was a stark reminder of my heart’s desire still unfulfilled. If you are still waiting for the day when a sweet little mouth can call you “Mama,” I see you, and so does God. I understand the deep disappointment of negative pregnancy tests. Know your loving Father is kneeling with you on that bathroom floor, wrapping His faithful arms around you. I understand the agony of waiting for a phone call from an adoption agency that feels like it will never come. Know He is with you in the waiting, welcoming your pleas for patience. Your day will come. Trust it. Believe it. Surrender your picture-perfect plan to the One whose ways are perfect. I pray you have the strength to worship in the waiting. 

I have sat in an empty nursery. I have opened baby shower gifts for a child that never came. There are no words to explain the vacancy. If you are a mother who has lost a child to miscarriage, stillbirth, or failed adoption, I see you. Your heart is already there; you are a mother, though your arms may be empty. The grief of losing what might have been is just too big to articulate, and you don’t have to. God knows. He sits with you in the silence as you cry over an empty crib. His love is there, filling in the hollow spaces of your heart. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick…” No one knows that better than you. “…but a longing fulfilled is the tree of life,” (Proverbs 13:12). Lord haste the day when you no longer have to cling to hope and can instead sit in the shade of your longings fulfilled. 

I have walked alongside mothers who have lost their children and I could never begin to imagine their grief. I look at the faces of my children each night and tears fall at the thought of them meeting their Maker before me. It’s not supposed to happen that way. Our children are supposed to outlive us. If you are a mother who is living with the immeasurable grief of losing a child to a disease, fatal accident, or any other terrible circumstance, I see you. May you feel God’s presence as you let the memories wash over you like crashing waves. Know He is near as you learn to carry on with a broken heart and a crushed spirit, (Psalm 34:18). God knows you will never feel whole again; a piece of you will always be missing. Your grief will ebb and flow like the tide. I pray for God’s comfort over you. I pray for smiles amid tears, for peace amid profound loss. Know He is close, catching your tears, hearing your prayers for peace and your desperate cries to make sense of it all. 

I have had the tremendous honor of knowing many birth mothers. These women have faced an impossible decision and chosen their children over themselves. Their bravery is a thing of beauty. Only a mom could be courageous enough to choose a life for her child that doesn’t involve her; a better life. Birth mother’s circumstances are all so unique, but the decision, no matter how practical or even convenient it seems at the time, is never easy. There are numerous things to consider, each one weighted with consequences for both mother and child. To carry a child in your womb, endure the hardship of labor and delivery, then hand the tiny human that made it all worth it over to another family to raise, is nothing short of heroism. There is no love more beautiful than that of a birth mother’s sacrifice. If you placed a child for adoption, I see you. Your strength is unmatched. I pray you live confidently in your decision. Though your child may be far from you, they are not far from God. He is with them, watching over them, assuring them of your love. While you don’t play a direct role in your child’s life, your eyes, your smile, your laugh, and your ethnicity, have all left an imprint on who they are. May your child know your decision was motivated by love more than anything else. 

As an adoptive mother, I can speak to what a priceless gift it is to be trusted with someone else’s child to call my own. The title of “Mom,” was passed to me like a treasured baton. I don’t take it for granted. My children are no less mine simply because I didn’t birth them myself. Biology is not what makes me a mother, love is.  I’ve forgotten how obvious our mismatching is until I field the insensitive questions from strangers, asking if I’m their “real mom.” I’ve struggled to explain how little I know of my child’s family history. I’ve stifled the threatening feeling of showing my kids pictures of their birth mothers, answering every single one of their questions without complaint. They deserve to know everything I can tell them. I wonder if my kids will want to search for their biological families one day, and how I’ll feel about it when they do. I struggle knowing no matter how great a life I give them, there will always be a void in them I can’t fill. I love seeing my daughter’s face light up when I tell her how beautiful she is, just like her birth mom. I love telling my son the story of his birth, and how his biological mom lovingly held him as he took his first breaths. There isn’t a birthday or a Mother’s Day that goes by that I’m not flooded with gratitude for the women who made me a mother. No emotion is more beautifully complicated than that of an adoptive mother’s love. If you are an adoptive mother too, I see you. What a privilege we have to teach our children we are special, chosen, and deeply loved by God, adopted into His family to be made one with Christ (Ephesians 1:5). 

I am guilty of complaining about “single momming it” while my husband is out of town. The truth is, I have no clue what it feels like to truly be on my own. If you are a mother without a partner, I see you. I stand in complete awe of your strength and fortitude. You wear so many hats. You literally do it all. You don’t get to clock out, slack off, or give up. You are all in, all the time. It is often a thankless job, but God sees you. He is there, sustaining you when you’re feeling depleted. He is there loving you when you are clothed in loneliness. He is there guiding you when you are faced with overwhelming tasks and decisions. I know you often feel like you carry the burden of motherhood alone, but He’s carrying it with you. I pray for a community to rise around you. I pray you know how capable you are, but still seek help when you need it. Trust your heavenly Father to meet all your needs. Know you are raising your children to be strong, like you. 

To foster moms, step-moms, and any mom loving and raising kids “on loan” to them, I see you. Your willingness to co-parent, to team up, to frequently be inconvenienced or disrupted for the sake of a child, is so very admirable. You care for children as if they were your own. You are respectful and honoring to everyone involved in your child’s life. It can’t be easy to be one cog in a larger machine, knowing the buck doesn’t stop with you. I pray you never doubt your influence or your importance. You are seen and so very valued by God. You are a mother and your work is not in vain.  Stay faithful. 

I remember being in the trenches of early motherhood not too long ago: the sleep deprivation, the monotony of diaper changes, Sesame Street episodes, high chair feedings, and a sea of toddler toys. I remember navigating nap schedules like they were minefields and packing loads of supplies needed for every outing. If you are a mama of little ones, I see you. I know you’re exhausted. I know you have days where you struggle to find your purpose in the piles of laundry. I know the occasional playdate only fills your tank so much. God sees you too. He’s there in the sweet first giggles, the sleepy snuggles, and the quiet repose of naptime. He’s there providing the coffee and the adult conversation when you need it most. Your steadfastness in the daily grind will be worthwhile. You are forming first memories, first lessons, first everything for your littles. You are faithfully providing them with love, comfort, and consistency; a true example of Christ in their impressionable little hearts. You’ve heard it said, “The days are long but the years are short,” and nothing could be truer. I pray you stay present, finding joy in the simplest of things. I pray you feel sustained and see blessings in the briefest of moments. May you find your purpose in Him, knowing He created you to do the good work of motherhood. Don’t grow weary, for in time you will reap a harvest, (Galatians 6:9).

My mom didn’t get paid enough for parenting me through my teenage years. It could be argued that no season of motherhood is more thankless. If you are a mom of pre-teens or teenagers, I see you, (and I’m sorry). You are forced to have thick skin and your ability to pick your battles has never been more necessary. You are patiently waiting for the day when your children will like you again, and for your sake, I pray it comes quickly. You are stuck in a hard place every day, between letting go and encouraging independence. You want to initiate tough love, but you fear your young sparrows will plummet to the ground below without your constant guidance. Every day is as unpredictable as your child’s moods. You question yourself constantly. God sees you. He hears your prayers of exasperation. He is there in the fleeting moments of connection between you and your kid. His Word awaits you, ready to fall afresh on you as you seek His wisdom in raising young disciples. Lean heavily on Him as you discern the best course for training your children in the way they should go. Trust they will not depart from it, (Proverbs 22:6). This season is hard. Give yourself grace. I am living proof that even the unruliest of teenagers can turn out to be best friends with their mom. 

Finally, if you’re a mom of children who are grown and gone, I see you. Believe me when I say your work is not done. I am thirty-eight years old and I still need my mom. You are a beacon of light, faithfully reminding your kids of your presence, guiding them home when the seas of their own life get choppy. Just the sound of your voice is all your children need to be reassured they are not alone. I know you thought most of your words fell on deaf ears when your kids were at home, but I can assure you it’s your voice they hear when they are making decisions, cooking dinner, or disciplining their children.  What your kids need from you most now is your affirmation. Nothing feels better than knowing you’re making your mom proud, no matter how old you are. Never stop being a cheerleader for your kids. God is with you in this season. He resides with you in your empty nest. He desires to be your beacon of light, your steady presence. He will never stop growing you in your faith; there is always more to learn. You are still running the race. Finish strong. 

Happy Mother’s Day to mothers everywhere.