This Mother’s Day feels different for me. Probably because for the first time the sweet little one growing in my womb has finally aligned my outward title with the thing I have long known to be true in my heart.
I am a mom.
I think there are a lot of paths to motherhood, some more traditional than others, but all equally special and valid. I have felt like a mom a lot longer than I have been acknowledged as one, and I think for many reasons its made this a super hard holiday for me in the past. I know I’m not alone there.So what is a mom? Because a mom is a noun meaning a woman in relation to her children, but it’s also a verb. An action. To mother. To bring up a child with care and affection. To birth, sometimes, but not always. I know a lot of moms who have never carried children in their bellies but certainly have their arms and hearts full. I know women who’s arms are empty, but who carry their children in their hearts instead. And I know women who carry other people’s children, for as long as they need to, while also trying to carry their mothers as well. Birth moms. Foster moms. Bonus moms. Step moms. I don’t think any of these paths are any more or less valid. If anything, it’s a lot easier to fall into motherhood than it is to choose it. To walk willingly into that fire, knowing that it will leave your heart forever changed and your clothes slightly singed. After all, when we look at the characteristics of what it means to mother, we realize it’s a much broader spectrum. According to hello motherhood, “a mother is a selfless, loving human who must sacrifice many of their wants and needs for the wants and needs of their children.” “A mother works hard to make sure their child is equipped with the knowledge, skills, and abilities to be a competent human being.” If you’re a mother already, think about how many people fall into this category in your children’s lives. Teachers, coaches, mentors, children’s ministry volunteers. When we think of motherhood as an action instead of an arbitrary assignment based on who has physically been able to give birth, or who currently has a child in their arms, suddenly the group widens. And how much richer are these children’s lives because of all the moms who pour into them. Who teach and nourish them. Who love them, whether or not they’ve carried them in their bellies. I’ll go so far as to say we genuinely couldn’t do it without them. Raising children takes a village, and these women are absolutely crucial. As someone who felt like a mom with no children for so many years, I can tell you I physically ached for my outward perception to line up with the way I felt in my heart. I spent years loving and nurturing other people’s children. Taking them to sports practice. Cheering them on. Listening to their hurts and dreams and fears. I spent so many weeks and weekends away at summer camp, stepping into that motherhood role in a really tangible way. Reminding them to take showers and drink enough water. Helping them brush the knots from their hair. Encouraging. Teaching. Having really hard conversations when necessary. I have loved so many children as my own, and ached each time I had to send them home, sometimes to homes that weren’t really homes at all. One Mother’s Day a student from our youth ministry asked me if I would adopt her. She was asking almost all of the married leaders. So desperate to find a mom. A loving home. Something so foreign to her group living experience. Something I just couldn’t provide, no matter how much I would have liked to. It isn’t the first time I’ve been asked by a child to take them in, but it hit me in a different way this time, because I realized that Mother’s Day is a holiday that has the effect of pouring water into something. Gallons and gallons of it. Sometimes the container holds up, but more often than not, it points out the gaping holes. The places where the day aches in unspeakable ways. The missing. The longing. The hurt. All incredibly valid. So my encouragement for all of you is this: today let’s acknowledge all of the moms, not just the ones with children in their arms. Our lives (and our children’s) are so much richer because of them. And let’s also pray for the motherless. Some children long for a mom just as desperately as some women long to have children.