Mother’s Day brings a twinge of grief for some and a spark of joy for others. My friend will pass her first Mother’s day this year after losing her mom to covid. For some folks it is a reminder of infertility angst or a fracture in the fabric of relationship with Mom. But for many it will be the first time reuniting with a beloved mom after everyone is vaccinated or a time to sit back and marvel at the miracle of holding a newborn who has rocked one’s world with holy mystery and wonder.

Last weekend while visiting my mom in Texas, I accompanied my mom and sister on a crafting adventure. I usually avoid such activities as I hyperventilate with anxiety and feelings of inadequacy just driving by craft stores. Meanwhile my mom and sister get excited about the creative possibilities. I tried to be a good sport though as we were making bead chains to affix to face masks. They make beautiful gifts for family members and friends. So I went along but by 11:00 p.m., my three chains were only about halfway finished so I went to bed.

Maybe your mom also has a special talent. My husband’s mom made the best pies and took so many photos at family gatherings that we barely have any pictures of her. I once knew a single mom who organized her three sons by color coding all their laundry. The mom of two special needs adult children spends hours on the phone working the system to find mental health services to enable her children to thrive in a society that neglects special needs adults. If you ask a Mom why she does these things, she will usually shrug and say she never thought of doing it another way.

Mothers and Grandmothers and many others who play this role, love so deeply that when they make sacrifices for another, it does not look like martyrdom but like unfettered love. They embody the Creator of us all, who fashioned us out of the dust in order to delight in our mere presence. And who lavished us with love without limits in a flesh and blood person named Jesus.

When I woke up the next morning, my beautiful finished bead projects were wrapped up and ready to go in my suitcase. “Did you sleep last night?” I asked my mom. She smiled.

Grace and Peace,
Carla