Celebrate Mother's Day with Joy and Compassion

Mother's Day. It happens every May on a Sunday. And each year churches (at least the one's I have been a part of) make celebratory announcements or completely alter their sermon series to talk about and celebrate mothers. Like do a whole sermon on Biblical motherhood. Okay. It's whatever. People like to celebrate (however, the Google calendar is starting to get a little out of control in the celebratory area), and it is important to honor mothers. I am not disputing that. However, as the worship pastor at our church wished everyone a "Happy Mother's Day" and talked about it being a time to celebrate the women who gave us life and shaped us, I started thinking about all those in the room who might have or have had absent, terrible, or abusive mothers. Then as someone shook my hand and asked if I was a mother, I replied that I was not. To which he replied, "Not yet." Probably not ever. I personally was not hurt by the question and follow-up comment. I have long known that kids were a "big if" for me due to medical issues, and we as a couple are unsure if we want any. Okay. No big deal. But what about the women in the room who have longed to be mothers and are unable to be so? That comment would have hit way differently. Or the women who have suffered the loss of children whether unborn or born? This day is obviously not a cut and dry happy day. So, how do we as the Church balance this grief with the joy that others are feeling on Mother's Day? How do we acknowledge the nuance? How do we celebrate with compassion and joy? 

I have increasingly become aware of this nuance of emotions on this holiday in the past few years. I have had dear friends, students, and family members in every one of these positions. I have had students who have been abandoned by their mothers. I have had students and have cousins who have lost their mothers. I have many friends who have lost children, some their very firsts. I have friends and family members who have been told that having children is impossible. I have a niece and nephew who were neglected by their birth mother. For most of these people, this day holds a plethora of emotions. They are told, "Happy Mother's Day!" or told by society to say it, but for them, it may be less than happy. 

This Mother’s Day definitely took on a new feel for me as my mom is once again in the same country as me. Weird. Still adjusting. I could finally call her, and she was in the same time zone to wish “Happy Mother’s Day.” To be honest, I have forgotten for years as the 18-hour time difference and we both being teachers often hindered spur of the moment communication. But in total contrast to me and my negligent ways is my husband who remembers to call his parents on birthdays and special occasions. However, what would normally be a special day is now one filled with so many other emotions. I knew the toll it was taking on my husband as he processed a day that he too wanted to celebrate his mom, a woman he loved dearly and has so many fond memories of, but must wrestle with the fact that his mom is becoming less and less of the woman he knew and loved as his mom due to Dementia or Alzheimer's. While my husband didn't say much after he tried to call her, I perceived the hurt he was experiencing. It was another reminder of the slow loss of his mom that was occurring. 

It is clear that Mother's Day is bittersweet. It was a day conceived in joy, honor, and gratitude, but for many, it is a day of grief, hurt, and longing. So Church, I ask you, how will we celebrate in joy for those who experience joy on Mother's Day and compassion with those who feel anything but? How will we celebrate in the nuance of emotions?