I shared this on Facebook in May. I wanted to make sure I went back and added it here too.
Mother’s
Day. Yes, it’s all the “normal” things
like little handprint poems and flowerpots.
Homemade cards. Feet pattering
down the hall. Family movie nights
snuggled together on the couch. Mud
puddles. Jumping in leaves gathered in
piles. Hand-picked bouquets from the
yard. “I love you, Mommy!”
It’s also
years of being foster parents to children who touched our lives for only short
moments. Where are they now? What has become of their lives? I may never know. The twins who attended Christmas parties with
us that year. The adorable
African-American baby. All those
wondering faces – my blonde hair, his dark skin – could he really be hers?
It’s
miscarriage, broken hearts, a child we were never able to meet. A little shoe that still hangs in my room,
engraved with the name “Micah.”
It’s the one
little foster child that changed our lives forever. Therapies, walkers, home visits. Learning to love. How could one little heart already be so
wounded by life? The snuggles that took
years to earn. The one birthed in a
judge’s courtroom.
It’s the one
I nurtured from the womb – yet was still unable to shield from life’s
harshness. The years spent in agonizing
pain, hospital stays, numerous tests, doctor visits. The moments I pray I never have to
revisit. The tube in his stomach that
provides relief. It’s “Mommy, when I get
to heaven, I’m going to eat pizza!” It’s
seeing him wish he were rid of this contraption, this hole in his body – yet
bearing it all with a strength well beyond his years.
It’s 9 years
of children that I cared for just for a school year. The ones with loving mothers of their own –
and the ones looking to fill that deep place in their hearts. It’s seeing them with tears in their eyes as
we do Mother’s Day activities. Will they
even get to see her this year?
It’s one
more year to celebrate with my own mother.
Thankful for the two Mother’s Days we spent together on borrowed
time. They didn’t think she’d make it
for these. It’s unlikely she’ll be here
for the next.
And for many
today, it’s the longings of motherhood yet unmet. It’s waiting on the call from a system or
agency. It’s an unexpected bundle on the
way. It’s sitting at the hospital with
those you love, praying for more time.
It’s longing for loved ones that left this earth too soon.
It’s the
days when I handle all of these things with gentleness and grace. When wisdom abounds. When love flows unconditional. And it’s also the days when my words are not so
kind. When I want to hide in the closet
with a bag of chocolate. When it’s all I
can do to put one foot in front of the other.
It’s knowing
that God has and will continue to sustain me through it all. There is nowhere I can flee from His
presence. To Him, there are no
surprises. I am a child of the
King. One day, my faith will be made
sight.
Whatever
Mother’s Day means to you this year, I pray you will feel surrounded by His
everlasting love, upheld by His never ending grace, and filled with His mercies
that are new every morning.
“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no
compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you
on the palms of my hands.” Isaiah
49:15-16