Category: Reflections

“You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.”

This morning as I was reading with two of my children, our subject led to a discussion of leadership and the responsibility that comes with authority. Thinking to tie in something they were familiar with, I reminded of them of the statue that has stood in the foyer of the church in which they had spent most of their lives. Pretty much every child who grew up in the Anaheim Vineyard knows the story of Jesus washing Peter’s feet, for they’ve all climbed over the life-size figures of the two men every Sunday and are as familiar with “The Divine Servant” as with any member of the congregation.

Except that during the pandemic, we found ourselves drawn to meet with a different branch of the Vineyard family, and when the church in Anaheim left the Vineyard movement, we realized that it would no longer be our home, and my children haven’t been in the building in two and half years. So when I prompted them about the story behind the statue, I got blank stares.

“Um…. I think I kind of remember it,” my 11-year old said at last, scrunching up her face as she tried to figure out what I was talking about since she could tell it was important to me.

And inside I just wanted to cry. Only yesterday I was telling someone I was past the emotional response to losing our church home, and then this morning this exchange revealed that while the wound may have closed, it is still raw and tender. Little things I once took for granted have now been revealed to be great blessings.

Last night as I attending a meeting with Friends of Vineyard, I soaked in the joy of being with my church family. Did I really used to get to see these beautiful souls every week? Did I really once pass them in the halls, smile, greet them, and move on? Did I have any idea how much I would miss them when we all found ourselves scattered? Could I ever have imagined that my children wouldn’t remember Jesus washing Peter’s feet? A thousand tiny blessings were such a regular part of our lives that we didn’t stop to thank the Lord for them until we found ourselves without them.

And so one thing I can be thankful for in the midst of all the hurt and disruption is that the Lord has opened my eyes to pay attention to the countless little blessings He so lavishly bestows upon my each and every day.

Mother’s Day is a tricky holiday for me. On the one hand, it is supposed to be a celebration of one of the most profound, impactful relationships in the human experience. Yet on the other hand, it feels so commercial. Neither my husband nor I are big on buying gifts or expressing certain sentiments on arbitrary days just because someone slapped a label on them. He expresses his appreciation for me as the mother of his six children continually throughout the year, and I don’t need anything more on this day just because it’s the second Sunday in May. My children don’t do much since we’ve never modeled that for them, though my mom has tried to help nudge them in that direction over the years. Still, it is hard to ignore the day completely, so I thought I’d jot down some of the things I’ve been reflecting on as this day approached.

Rejoice with those who rejoice

In Romans 12:15, Paul exhorts believers to “rejoice with those who rejoice,” so I thought I’d take a moment to celebrate the mothers in my life.

My own mom is actually the only reason we do anything special on Mother’s Day. Her love language is totally different than mine, and while I would be content with letting this day slip by without any acknowledgement whatsoever, I know it is important to her. These days she tries to honor me more than she lets us honor her, but I try to take the opportunity to bless her for all the love she pours into her children and grandchildren throughout the year.

My mother-in-law passed away the day before my oldest child’s first birthday, and while I only had a brief time with her in my life, I miss her presence more with each year that passes. I wish she had had the chance to get to know all her grandchildren, and I wish they could have known her in person, not just through the stories we tell them about her. Her love has outlived her and continues to influence our family.

I am so thankful for the new mother God brought into their lives when my husband’s father remarried. She went from being the mom of one son and daughter-in-law with one grandson to suddenly having three sons and three daughters-in-law with ten grandchildren between them, and she does an amazing job of making each of us feel special and loved.

Countless women have poured into my life over the years, playing the role of comforter and adviser, offering love and encouragement. They have helped shape me as a woman, as a mother, and as a follower of Christ. Every Mother’s Day God brings some of these women to mind, and I rejoice with them and for them, taking the opportunity to thank Him for bringing them into my life and hopefully to reach out and thank them for the impact they have had.

Weep with those who weep

The second part of Romans 12:15 is less cheery, but to me it will always be a part of Mother’s Day. Part of the reason I’m not so fond of this “holiday” is because I know it is profoundly painful for many. My heart aches for those who dread Mother’s Day, and I find my thoughts are more with them than with the mothers I am celebrating or encountering today.

I think of the years before I met my husband, when I longed to be a mother, watching my friends step into that role and wondering if I would ever get to experience it myself. I remember the Mother’s Day after we got married, when I sat sobbing through church because I hadn’t yet conceived and I feared it might not happen. I know so many who grieve because they are not mothers, and this day is full of reminders that magnify their pain.

I think of those who have lost their mothers, and those who live far from them, who would give anything for the chance to be with their moms today. I think of my friends who have passed away, whose young children are growing up without them, not knowing how much they were loved by those women who are no longer a part of their daily lives. I know they feel a void, and this day can make that emptiness feel even more hollow than usual.

God is only directly referred to as “Father” in Scripture, never “Mother,” but there are several places where metaphors of motherhood are used to describe certain aspects of His character: His comfort (Isaiah 66:13), His shelter (Psalm 91:4), His fierce protectiveness (Hosea 13:8). I pray that those who weep today are able to find peace in the comforting arms of our Heavenly Father, whose love is as comforting, sheltering, and protective as that of any mother.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings. Psalm 36:7