By Sandi Brown

Mother’s Day. The mere thought of the day approaching sent me into a deep state of depression. Mother’s Day meant going to church and seeing the flurry of activity as mothers were dressed in their best outfits for the day that honored them. They would gush over the gifts their children bought them, all the while grinning ear to ear with pride. Families were together and prepared to honor their moms by taking them out to a special Sunday lunch.

And then there was the part of the service I dreaded—the part where all the mothers were called up front to receive their Mother’s Day gift from the church. Some years it was a flower, sometimes a magnet, sometimes a mug. The gift didn’t matter. What mattered was that as nearly every lady walked up front, I was left in my seat.

I yearned to be a mother and would have given anything to join the parade marching to the front of the sanctuary. There I was, year after year, sitting in my pew. I felt like I was cursed, like something was wrong with me. And then there were the remarks: “Maybe next year it will be you!” “When are you going to finally have a baby?” “I don’t know why you are waiting to have a child!”

The Mommy Club

After years of dealing with infertility, I had heard it all. Well-meaning people said the first things that came to their mind, without thinking about how it affected me. People treated me as if I had control over when I had a child. They seemed insensitive to the fact that every comment, well meaning or not, drove deep inside me, like a knife cutting through my skin.

As each Mother’s Day came and went, it seemed less and less likely that I would ever be able to join the “Mommy Club.” I wondered why everyone else seemed to be able to get pregnant so easily.

I read Scriptures about how God blessed barren women by opening their womb.

I studied the stories of Sarah, Rachel, Hannah, and Elizabeth. If God could bless these barren women, why couldn’t he bless me? I read, “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4) and wondered why God wasn’t giving me what I desired. 

Finally . . . 

Fast forward nine very long years. I am happy to say God has blessed me with children—three to be exact! However, it didn’t happen the way I expected. I had hoped to become pregnant, but God had a different plan. Instead of allowing me to give birth to our children, he set aside three very special children for my husband and me to adopt.

I look back now and know that we would have never considered adopting three children if we had a baby of our own. God had a bigger plan, one I couldn’t see as I sat in my pew each Mother’s Day, sulking over not having an invitation to the Mommy Club.

God taught me some important lessons as I dealt with infertility. I believe the lessons I learned can help us minister to women in similar situations today.

Be the Hands and Feet of Jesus

The first lesson God taught me is to use Mother’s Day as an opportunity to reach out to those who are hurting. Think about it. While the rest of us are celebrating Mother’s Day, many women and families see Mother’s Day as a painful reminder of someone they have lost.

What about women who yearn, as I did, to be a mother but have no children? What about those who have lost children during a pregnancy? Think about women who have suffered the death of a child.

And then there are women who have lost their mothers. People who have been through these experiences may feel tossed aside as their mourning is overlooked while everyone around them is celebrating.

God reminded me that I should never forget what it was like to be a hurting woman on Mother’s Day. You can minister to such women as well. You won’t have to look hard to find someone who is mourning the loss of a child, a miscarriage, or infertility.

I’ll be the first to admit that the right words may not come easily. In fact, there are no perfect words to say. But don’t let the lack of words keep you from ministering to someone who is hurting. Hurting women need to know someone is there for them, that someone is going to walk with them through their valley. Show the love of Jesus to them by being someone they can lean on.

A Cherished Role

God also taught me that I should never take being a mother for granted. When I watched other mothers from the sidelines, I saw some who seemed to take their role for granted. I saw mothers so focused on their phones and e-mail messages that they would not even pay attention to their children. I cringed when I heard mothers say they just wanted to run away. One mother told me she wished she could go back to being a single lady without children. I tried to hide my aggravation as I sat there, longing for that very blessing. She didn’t appreciate the gift she had.

Often motherhood isn’t a glamorous job. Being a mom means cleaning up after children, comforting them when they’ve had a bad dream at 2:00 a.m., and hearing your teenager slam the bedroom door. It means being a referee to fighting siblings and long days at the soccer field watching a tournament in the scorching sun. It means cooking dinner when we would rather take a nap. It means putting our children’s needs above our own.

Being a mother can be a tough, thankless, and stressful job. But it’s worth it. When God gives us children, he entrusts us with their lives. It’s a blessing we should never take for granted. Psalm 127:3 says, “Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.”

This Mother’s Day, let’s remember what a blessing our children are. They deserve our time and attention. And let’s invest in their lives as God would want us to.

Don’t Give Up

Mother’s Day is not a curse, although I felt it was for many years. If you’re in the same place I was, don’t give up. God’s plans are far better than anything we could imagine. God had a much bigger plan for me than I expected, and I believe he will do amazing things for you as well. Let him create a beautiful masterpiece with your life.

Sandi Brown is a freelance writer in Tomah, Wisconsin.

The Spectrum of Motherhood

On her blog, Amy L. Young shares “An open letter to pastors

{A non-mom speaks about Mother’s Day}”

She encourages the church to “Acknowledge the wide continuum of mothering” including:

• To those who experienced loss this year through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you.

• To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment—we walk with you.

•To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms—we need you.

• To those who have disappointment, heartache, and distance with your children—we sit with you.

• To those who lost their mothers this year—we grieve with you.

www.messymiddle.com/2012/05/10/an-open-letter-to-pastors-a-non-mom-speaks-about-mothers-day