Kiss Your Miracle

I have to admit, my thoughts were all over the place on Sunday morning. After the rush to get to church on time, I dropped Sky off in the nursery and worried about whether or not she’d cry till the service ended. Once we were in our seats my mind shifted to Pastor Mike and his message. I thought about our email conversation a couple weeks ago, and wondered if he would mention those who may be hurting instead of happy on Mother’s Day. A few minutes into his sermon he did, bringing to everyone’s attention the following: single moms, those with mothers who are no longer living, those in difficult mother-child relationships, moms with rebellious kids, and those dealing with infertility. I looked around. No one in the congregation was moving. He then preached his message about a woman in the Bible who may have been a single mom (II Tim. 1:5), but who still raised her son to be sincere in his faith (a very cool Mother’s Day sermon). At the end he had all the moms stand up while the kids gave a flower to each one. As I stood, I couldn’t help but look at all the seated women – there were quite a few – and hope they felt validated by Pastor Mike’s sensitivity to women in all situations.

It wasn’t until we were at home later that I began to think about Mother’s Day on a more personal level. I picked up my flower and smiled, thinking about my baby’s intense curiosity and how fun it is to watch her explore things for the first time. The fact that her tiny hands had squished my carnation a bit and snapped off its stem actually made the flower more precious to me. I put it in a little bowl and took a few photos of it. I am officially a mother this year and I appreciated everything about the day. I have never cried to God more about anything in my life than our infertility, and God, in his sweet extravagance, chose to take it away from me. He answered my prayers and gave me a child. Lord willing, I’ll have many more Mother’s Days to celebrate with my daughter. But for me this day will always have a touch of melancholy to it and I am grateful for that. As long as I know people who struggle with infertility, they will be heavy on my mind and heart. I’m thankful for my own wonderful mom and thankful beyond words for my child. But even as I praise God for the blessings he’s poured into my life, I remember Psalm 77:14 – “You are the God who performs miracles” – and I ask him, our God without limits, to bless my hurting friends.