I’m kind of skipping Mothers Day this year.
Oh, I sent cards to all the grandmas from the hubby, kids and me. And we’ll call them later to wish them a happy day.
I mean me. Sometimes selfish me.
Me– who looks around at the beautiful pieces of fine jewelry or the expensive pieces of clothing some moms get this day and gets a bit jealous.
Don’t get me wrong. My family has done some wonderful things for me on Mothers Days’ past– given me a lovely leather journal that they’d all written their love in; treated me to me an old-fashioned foot washing as they each told me what they loved about me. Lovely gifts. Heartfelt sentiments.
But other years, due to busyness, it was the typical dad-runs-to-the-dollar-store-for-a-card-at-the-last-minute-and-has-everyone-sign-it. Oh, and along with it, some flowers from the grocery store and a Sunday dinner out.
On those years, I should smile and be thankful. And I do.
Inwardly, I feel slighted. I kick into martyr mom mode. My mind spins and sins, “After all I do for you people–this is what thanks I get? You couldn’t even think ahead or think beyond a discount parental “package deal” of a cheap card and shrunk-wrapped flowers with a bright orange mark-down sticker? Seriously?”
My thankfulness goes out the door and–along with it—a verse I memorized years ago but have trouble living out, “Rejoice always! Pray constantly. Give thanks in everything, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.
This year will be different. This year I will give thanks. And rejoice. And pray throughout the day. Here’s why:
Pastors wife Kay Warren, whose precious son took his own life recently.
The moms of the children and adults murdered at Sandy Hook.
Or the ones of the victims who died at the hands of the Boston Marathon bombers.
The mothers of our brave servants who were killed in Benghazi.
Or the many who have lost children who served our country in uniform. And more.
This Mothers Day–the first without their beloved children–how they would love a last-minute card or a bouquet from the bargain bin.
If only their children were still here.
In my own life, there are more for whom this day will be difficult. A widow facing her first Mother’s Day alone since this year the kids are all grown and gone.
Another friend whose husband was just plucked out of her life leaving her home alone with the kids trying to figure out a new normal.
Another who struggles with infertility and has no child to make her a mother this day. For yet another year.
Two weeks ago our youngest child asked to go up north with a friend fishing this weekend. “Are ya kidding me? Its Mothers Day!” was my first line of thinking.
Until I remembered his friend’s situation. He has no mother. She died when he was five. His brave dad is raising two teen boys all alone. A fun fishing trip might be just the ticket to help this family get through a Mothers Day weekend without mom. Again.
So I smiled and said yes and I asked this dad’s favorite dessert to have it waiting when he drops my boy off tonight–who will be smiling and smelling of fresh-caught perch. (The aroma of the blackberry cobbler will cancel out the fish fragrance, I hope?)
So today, I won’t pout. I won’t sulk. I won’t let comparisons be the thief of my joy. I’ve told my three kiddos and handsome hubby I am skipping Mothers Day. We can celebrate it on Fathers Day when our kids will all be at home.
Today is “pause and pray” day instead. Whenever I spy reminders of the day– the corsages on the grandmas at church, or the jam-packed parking lots at the area restaurants where many moms are getting the day off from cooking, or even the distracted dads making a last-minute dash into our local dollar store–I will take it as God’s cue to whisper a prayer for the dear moms who no longer have their child on earth. Or the brave dads and kids going it alone today in a world celebrating moms while they have none.
Yes, rejoice always–pray constantly–give thanks in ALL things.
That’s on my docket today.
Mothers Day can wait.