Sharing this from my friend Jen Hatmaker. it's slanted toward Church but I think it applies to most everyone and I think it's a good word. Mother's Day is complicated for a great many. If you know someone who it's complicated for, maybe share with them. Or take to heart for yourself. And for the rest of us, keep this kind of thing in mind. It's WAY more common than most people, especially men, realize.
Plus a sweet pic of my Mom. She died a few months ago. Me posting this isn't about that. I posted this last year. It's just a sweet pic of my Mom. I'm doing fine there.
Much love for y'all.
Plus a sweet pic of my Mom. She died a few months ago. Me posting this isn't about that. I posted this last year. It's just a sweet pic of my Mom. I'm doing fine there.
Much love for y'all.
"Dear People of the Church World, tomorrow is Mother's Day which for some folks is a lovely, happy day and for others it is a nightmare. As a friend and sister and daughter to people for whom "motherhood" only means loss, unfulfilled dreams, or bruised memories, may I say this:
"If going to church on Mother's Day is simply an exercise in holding in your tears until you can unleash them in the car on the way out of the parking lot, just stay home tomorrow. It's okay. You won't lose your salvation and the church won't fold. You aren't the only one that has to white knuckle through the traditional Mother's Day sermon, because it leaves you out of a story you deeply wish you were a part of...or you miss being a part of.
"Go to brunch with people you love. Shop at your favorite book store. Take a walk on the prettiest stretch in town. Watch your favorite movie. Be kind and nurturing to your own self. Send a text to some of the mothers in your life you admire; generosity out of pain is a special brand of healing work.
"The rest of us: think through the people in your life that might benefit from a short moment of acknowledgment tomorrow. A few years ago, I sent a long email to five of my closest girlfriends on Mother's Day, all of whom lost their moms at really young ages. I told them how proud their mothers would be if they could see them today and what beautiful legacies they were carrying on. I affirmed their pain and reminded them it was okay to still be sad all these years later.
"You are deeply loved and seen. You are valuable and a gift to this world, even if "motherhood" is a painful space. Be so kind to yourself tomorrow, beloveds."
- Jen Hatmaker