For many years, Mother’s Day for me, was a day I grieved.
Several years ago, my mom was an addict, and alcohol was her drug. She was in my life, but she wasn’t able to really be my mom. The relationship that we had shared all my life had been broken by addiction. And every Mother’s Day I always wondered if it would be her last.
During that time, we had also been trying to get pregnant. I wanted a baby more than anything. I wanted squishy cheeks, chunky thighs, and a little voice to call me “Mommy.” And it just wasn’t happening. My body had failed me, month after agonizing month. We tried every natural/holistic route you can imagine. We tried to “not try.” We tried rounds of infertility medicine. We changed our diets. We charted temperatures and I knew my calendar like the back of my hand. We even tried several rounds of infertility treatments. And they all ended in the bottom of the trash can with one lonely pink line on a pregnancy test each month.
I wanted more than anything to be a mom.
And I wanted more than anything to have my mom.
I was the girl on Mother’s Day without a mom and without children to mother. I’ll never forget walking into church one Sunday, and given a rose. “Happy Mother’s Day,” the greater said. As she handed me that rose, it was if the thorns slashed straight through my heart.
Mother’s Day left me exposed.
All of my deepest wounds were on display, it felt, for all to see. There wasn’t a way to get around the ache of that day. Every second was full of pain. And I felt so alone.
Yet, I wasn’t.
He saw every tear that slipped off my cheeks. He watched my heart ache, alone, in the middle of a crowded room. He watched my heart grieve as a mother hugged her daughter, wishing desperately I could share that with my mom. He saw me look away when a little toddler reached up to her mama. And He felt the thorns of that rose pierce the deepest places of my heart. Not a second of my pain was unnoticed by Him. And I wasn’t exposed, like I felt.
I was covered.
I was hidden in Him.
The Greek word in this text for hidden is “krupto,” it means to conceal protectively. Like a mama bird protects her babies. She spreads her wings over them, they are hidden behind her, under the safety of her wings. It’s how He covers us.
I’m thinking about you today, friend. I’ve been praying for you all week. It’s your stories that are the ones so heavy on my heart.
The mama, who lost her baby.
The mama, without a mama.
The waiting mama, pregnant with only a promise.
Can I gently remind you, Precious One, that He makes all things new? He brings beauty from our ashes. He speaks into the dust of our stories and commands purpose and beauty to rise forth.
I’m celebrating this Mother’s Day with my Mama. God redeemed every part of her story, our story. He’s rewritten it, giving back to us all of the years addiction had stolen from us. I’ll get to hug her and watch her be “Yaya” to my babies, the miracles that now call me, “Mama.”
I know Mother’s Day will still sting. But I’m praying you’ll find your refuge in Him. He’s your safe place. You can run to Him and let Him cover you.
May you find yourself hidden, concealed protectively, under the shadow of His wings.
You will not go unnoticed by Him.
He sees you, sweet friend, and His heart burns with love for you.
Would you mind sharing this post with a friend who needs it? I'm thanking the Father that the eyes and hearts that need to be encouraged by this, will.
*Photos by Rachel Ackerman Photography*