Mother’s Day is such a beautiful day. This year’s mother’s day is crammed full of children and music, baby dedications, rejoicing with families and praying with families.
But, this year. This year is hard.
My mother lives across the country. I can call and send a card, but she isn’t here for me to serve Sunday dinner to in our dining room.
My grandmothers have been gone for many years, and were gone for years before they were actually gone. I’ve never met most of the women in my extended family.
But mostly, this year is hard because I am not a mother. I am thirty, and I am not a mother.
As the months go on, my heart yearns more and more for the children we don’t have. It feels…empty. Empty because I don’t have a sweet little thing to cuddle, or to run up into my arms after Sunday School, or anyone to just say, “I love you, Mama.” It feels like something is missing.
Being around children as much as I am, I know it isn’t all butterflies and perfection. I also know it is worth all of the trials and heartache. If it weren’t, we certainly wouldn’t celebrate Mother’s Day.
On my way home from a business trip earlier this week, I had plenty of time to think. I was thinking about how hard it was not to cry when a sweet gentleman asked me if we had children and I could barely choke out an answer, right there in his basement print-shop. Crying at the drop of a hat isn’t usually a good way to handle things, so while I was stuck in the car, I began to ask God to help me
change my perspective get a grip.
I realized that I have been given a beautiful gift to be able to desire children so deeply before we have them. So many women do not have these feelings in their hearts when they discover they are soon to be a mother. So many women dread hearing the words, or worse–hate hearing the words–that tell them they are expecting. I have a beautiful gift in knowing that, for whatever reasons He has, God has given me time to have a heart that is as fully prepared as a heart can be, and a faith that is so much stronger than it was even a year ago.
Mother’s Day for the childless at our house means I get one more practice run. I get to hug fifty other children and be their music teacher when they sing for their Mamas on Mother’s Day morning. I get to desire children even more deeply than I did last week before they come to us. Our marriage gets to grow even stronger before we have to care for little lives. I get to have a stronger faith as God continues to remind me that his plans are absolutely perfect, even when the pieces I can see are hard to understand.
This Mother’s Day, my prayer for the childless woman, is that we daily seek God’s perspective–especially on the hardest days. I believe that the more we work toward shifting our focus to His perspective, the more we will gain the wisdom and peace that will never come from focusing on the emotions that seek to tear us down in the present.
“Blessed is she who believed, for there will be a fulfillment of those things which were told her from the Lord.” Luke 1:42