Mother's Day...A Hidden Brokenness

Tonight I turned to Nate and said, "I feel incredibly emotional today."  His reply was, "That's because it's the Eve of your very first official Mother's Day."  As I let that reality sink in, one that I have only been able to dream about the past 8 years of life, I found myself overwhelmed once again.  I am overwhelmed due to the goodness and graciousness of God's story he wrote so long ago, that was unveiled to us this past year.  I am overwhelmed that last Mother's Day, I spent the weekend dreaming about what it would be like to meet the little boy who we would soon call our son, and now, that little boy sleeps in the very room next to me.  And I am overwhelmed that God weaves our losses, our pain, and our brokenness and somehow creates a tapestry of beauty in his time.

As a child, I envisioned so many things for my life, but infertility was not one of them.  To be honest, I am not even sure that I knew what that word meant, let alone knew how it could change the course of your life.  I had been raised in a world where going to college, finding a husband, and starting a family were the norm.  The world in which I grew up in spoke nothing about infertility, let alone the brokenness that came with it.  As a child, a teenager, and even a newly married young adult, I just figured that getting pregnant was as easy as 1+1=2.  Maybe I was naive, or maybe, I grew up in a world where people felt too broken to share the other possibility of that equation.

I wish we didn't have to experience pain and brokenness.  I wish that life was as simple as 1+1=2.  The truth is, tomorrow when I sit in church, I will sit among people who are experiencing loss, people who are struggling to survive the part of their life journey they find themselves in the middle of, and people who just feel plain broken.  While I don't believe that God causes pain and brokenness (that is the result of a fallen and sin ridden world), I do believe that God allows us to experience it for so many reasons.  For me, infertility changed me.  It changed my perspective on life.  It changed my dependency on God.  It gave me a passion for orphans that I never knew I had inside of me.  It taught me to choose joy.  It taught me gratitude.  And...it has allowed me to be a voice for the voiceless.  Which brings me to tomorrow...

To my friend who just lost your mom this past week...may you find joy in knowing that the one who your mom is celebrating with in heaven, is the same one that embraces you today.

To my friend who miscarried this past year...may you feel the arms of Jesus wrapped ever so tight around your heart and may you cling to the hope that your story isn't finished.

To my teenager whose mom isn't really there...may you feel loved by your creator God and understand that you have value, your were made for something great, and you are special.

To my friend who isn't even married yet...may you know and experience the peace that comes from the one who is the author of your story.

To my friend whose child is struggling with addiction...may you know and understand the richness of God's grace and the strength that comes from letting go of control.

To my teenagers who lost your mom to a battle with cancer...may you be overwhelmed by God's love today and rest knowing that he will never let you go.

To my friend who has been dealt the card of infertility...may you hold fast to the truth that God's story is far greater than you could imagine and remember...you have not been forgotten, you are loved.

To the birth mother of my son...may God's graciousness and love seep into the very depths of your soul in a way that you begin to understand you are precious, valued, and loved.

To the women who find yourselves sitting in church tomorrow morning, walking the aisles of Wal-Mart, sitting down for dinner, struggling with a hidden brokenness that no one knows about this Mother's Day....know that I stand behind you, I am praying for a strength that can only come from your Maker, hoping that you will sense just how deeply loved you really are, and one day, you will see the beautiful tapestry God is weaving in your story.