Mother’s Day 2011 has officially come and gone, but I’m still thinking about it. On Sunday morning, I slipped into a skirt and top and got ready for church. I’m in California for a few weeks, so I met my friend Debra at her house and we walked eight blocks in the sunshine to the service. I couldn’t help remembering how different Mother’s Day was for me a few years back. I was recovering from a surgery that followed a miscarriage.
At the time, Ron and I were living in Maryland, and I could barely walk from the car to the church building, let alone eight blocks. Ron held my arm as I hobbled inside. Gingerly, I eased myself into a pew. The service began with a big celebration. All mothers were asked to stand, and they were showered with prayers and cheers. Each mother was given a flower. I looked around at all the women who had remained seated (including me), and wondered how many had had miscarriages, or abortions, or had endured years of infertility treatments with no resulting pregnancy. The ceremony was nice, but it felt incomplete.
I thought the service I attended this year would be more of the same. At first, it was. The pastor honored the mothers and gave a prayer of thanks. But then he expanded his prayer. He prayed for those who were hurting this Mother’s Day because of strained relationships. He prayed for those who found Mother’s Day painful because they were grieving a death or loss. And he remembered people like me, too. He prayed for those who wanted to be mothers but were having difficulty conceiving or still waiting. He reminded us all that God brings healing.
About Jenny Rough
Jenny Rough is a lawyer-turned-writer. Visit her on the web at www.jennyrough.com