A Splash of Love….

Like any other Holiday, Mother’s Day stirs a range of emotions. I love Mother’s Day! It isn’t the same as Christmas, with near-tingling excitement for the joy of the occasion and the thrill of watching our children open presents. Or even to open mine—especially since I’m not really a gifts person. (Except for flowers–they are the exception.) If someone gives me a gift, I appreciate it, and definitely value the thought behind it, but it’s not my main love language or ‘need’. So Mother’s Day isn’t about the gifts.

My 10-year old son, Kordan, anxiously awaited the dawn of ‘the day’ to give me the gift he made at school. I get excited just watching him. He returned from school Friday with a neatly wrapped package, all done in my favourite colour—purple. “When do I give this to you, today or Sunday?” he asked.

“Definitely on Mother’s Day,” I said. It didn’t matter that much to me, but I am quite certain that Sunday morning he will wish he had saved it. So we waited. First thing Saturday morning he announced that ‘it’s only one more day!’ Seeing his excitement, made me look forward to the moment he hands me his gift. It is obviously filled with a ton of love!

Even though it’s not about the gifts for me, the little tokens of love are always delightful. Whether it’s a dandelion bouquet, a homemade card or any other little ‘something’, it always communicates love and appreciation. So I look forward  to Mother’s Day.

I will have a (relatively) quiet day at home with my husband and five children, followed by a visit from Grandma and Grandpa for dinner in the evening. I will try to call my mom at some point, as well as a few ‘mom figures’ in my life, to bless them in their roles. The feelings, all around, are positive and peaceful.

For many of you the feelings are very different.

Some of you, who are mothers, find today filled with sadness and grief. You may have lost an only child recently, or in the past, and the vacancy cannot be filled. There is no child to wish you a Happy Mother’s Day today, whether as an infant who giggles and gurgles and coos, or as an adult who appreciates you. Your heart today is lonely, empty and you feel abandoned. Today I think of you.

Maybe you lost a son or daughter, recently or in the past, and even though you have other children, there is still a vacancy. You find yourself filled with conflicting emotions as your heart thrills at the children you have, and breaks for the one you have lost. You feel guilty for the grief, worry your other children feel they are not enough, and wonder if you will ever embrace this day again. Today I think of you.

Maybe your son or daughter has abandoned you, emotionally, and spoken unkindly of you or to you. They are alive, but your relationship is broken. Gone.  You wonder if you will ever see him or her again. You wonder if they even think of you, or only think of you long enough to entertain a hateful thought or dark curse. The grief and the ache in your heart are more than you can bear. You feel regret. Fear. Loneliness. Anger. Shame. Sadness. Loss. Deep, deep loss. Today, I think of you.

Maybe you are a mother who has lost sight of the value of your role. You feel disdain for it. You are angry. You fail your children, or have failed them terribly in the past, and you can’t find it in yourself to care or say, “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”. Your children are wounded, lost, abandoned. They wonder if you will ever ‘come home’ again. Will they ever know you, be loved by you—accepted? They wait, almost hopelessly, for you to be there for them, to talk, listen, and do life with them. And so they wonder as you wander, far from their hearts. Today I think of you.

Or, it could also be that you are the abandoned son or daughter. Maybe your mother gave you up for adoption, withdrew emotionally, or perhaps she died and was taken against her will. All you feel is a deep, empty, lonely ache…. and anger. You long for even one person to look at you on Mother’s Day and say, “I’m sorry she isn’t here for you today. Can I give you a hug?” Today I think of you.

Finally, maybe you are the son or daughter who has abandoned your mother. Your hurt and anger may be justified. Even so, she is still your mother and you need her as much as she needs you. It may be that you are the one who will have to take that first step. She may be so consumed with guilt and regret that she fears you will never forgive her. She may feel she doesn’t deserve you anymore. Or, the tragic truth may be that she is not willing to restore the relationship.  You may reach out, year after year, and always arrive at the same rejection. Today I think of you.

Today I would like to offer you hope. For many years I seldom communicated with my mom. I had completely withdrawn from her emotionally, because of our very traumatic home life. I wasn’t able to handle the pain. Ultimately, I was not able to forgive.

About seven years ago I called my mom, not on Mother’s Day but on a random day. We started to talk at a depth we had probably never spoken before. Eventually, in the course of conversation, I shared my hopes, my dreams and my plans with her. I talked about how I wanted to do ministry to help others work through pain and trauma. I told her that I wanted to teach people about healthy sexuality, so they would not suffer what I went through. I told her that I dream of ending abuse and violence or, at the very least, breaking the silence and shame surrounding the topic.

When I finished talking, there was a pause and then my mother spoke these words, her voice filled with grief and regret, “Ah… I wish someone had taught me all of those things.”

That heaviness in her voice told me more than words could have. She longed to go back, to do things differently, but she cannot. She praised me in the path I have chosen, blessed the things I shared and for the first time in many years, if not the first time ever, I felt connected to my mom. There is always hope.

I don’t know your story, but I do know this, there is healing and restoration available if your relationships are broken. Today, if you are struggling, my prayer is that you will invite Jesus and friends into your grief and struggle. My prayer is that you will find the courage to extend forgiveness and accept it, if you need it, and that this Mother’s Day will be the beginning of a new relationship for you.

Be blessed this Mother’s Day!