By Lea Wright
(Sometimes, a person says it better than I do. Lea Wright is a gifted leader in our church’s children’s ministry. The following is her take, her story, of Mother’s Day. -BRS)
The impending arrival of Mother’s Day stirs up emotion from the deepest part of my heart.
I’m not going to lie-I seriously struggle with Mother’s Day.While it’s a day filled with joy for so many, it is also a day of immense pain for many more. What about the women who can’t have children? What about the women who have lost a child? What about the women whose children can’t live with them anymore? What about the women who can’t provide for their children?
What is Mother’s day supposed to mean for me? July 15th will mark the 22nd anniversary of my adoption- arguably the most significant day of my life. As one mother let go in trust, the other gripped on in joy. Do I celebrate with my mama the fulfillment of her lifelong dream and her unceasing love? Or do I grieve for the woman a world away whose love demanded a great sacrifice?
It’s been an absolute gift to watch two of my dearest friends become mothers this year. Through their journeys, God has quite literally been opening my eyes to a new meaning in Mother’s Day.
My first friend prayed for years and years for a child. Last year, in the midst of a season of uncertainty and tumult, she received news of an extra special Christmas gift: a baby girl. I watched as the months passed by and her joy grew three times as large as her belly. When illness and physical injury threatened to steal that joy, she steadfastly clung to her certainty that motherhood would be worth it all. Days before Christmas, her sweet baby entered this world. My friend often remarks just how happy she is-and you can tell. She looks at her beautiful baby girl as if there is nothing more important than for her know that she is loved. It’s as if my friend had been waiting her whole life, simply to love this tiny, new life.
When I think of my second friend, the first word that comes to mind is fierce. While this is partially because of our shared love for Beyonce, it’s even more so because of the way that I’ve seen her dive into motherhood. Her journey to become a mom looks a little different. For starters, the tiny human in her home calls her by her first name and regularly refers to every other adult woman she encounters as mom… but day after day, my friend scoops this human up, tells her “I love you oodles”, and is the one to sit guard at the door as she falls asleep. Being a foster mom is tough, but not a day has passed that my friend has stopped walking in faithfulness to what God set before her. Hers is a fierce love for this tiny human who has invaded every part of life. A fierce love that has stood in the gap and kept watch over this precious soul in preparation for whatever God has next.
Children are a miracle. Biological, adopted, foster. It matters how they come into your home. It matters that they are there. Moms have an impossible task-to love you for as long as they have you…and to love you enough to let you go. The circumstances surrounding your departure from your mother’s physical presence can be messy. They could be incredibly tragic. They could be astonishingly sweet. Whatever carries us away, I’d like to think that we then carry on the purest form of their love for us.
No matter where they go, my friend’s daughters will take the beautiful, fierce love that has been poured into them. Even though I might never meet her, my mother’s love will push me forward while my mama’s draws me home.
This is what I want to celebrate on Sunday. Take a minute today and ask yourself: What does “mom” mean to you? Who is “mom” to you?
Carry on their love. Happy Mother’s Day.