_____Mother's Day

I don't think about Mother's Day with excitement. If there is a build-up to the occasion, it is usually trepidation, and a heavy pit takes the place of my stomach. I wake up in the morning, not feeling like it's any special day. The girls might say "Happy Mother's Day" and I will get a card and hand-made gift because someone reminds them and provides the materials and direction. Normally that job is for the father and husband, but that spot in our home is empty, as is the spot in my heart.

Mother's Day begins by reminding me of the hurt I was given in the past, intentional and not, and the inadequacies of my role as mother. My failings in parenting my emotional pre-teen and my special needs daughter. 

It continues on as I look at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and the messy rooms created by my children, knowing that to expect a clean home is to expect a fight. A fight of which I have no stamina to engage in most of the time. A reminder of how weak I really am. 

I feel my feelings, and experience more failure within myself because some of my thoughts are selfish. This particular mother's day I have been hurt by someone close to me, and as unintentional as it was, it still wounds because of my past experiences. Now, that's not fair to put that on someone. Selfish. 

Lastly, I am disappointed because Mother's Day is like any other day, and most people can't quite understand that. I don't want to go out in public because when others wish me a  happy day, well-wishing is expected in return, and every time I hear "Happy Mother's Day" or wish it upon another, I am pushed further toward a sobbing messy breakdown. 

But, I went to church anyway, because I know what happens when I skip it. I was greeted many times and responded like-wise. When the call came for the mothers to stand up and be blessed, prayed for,  and honored by their spouses, the two spouseless women and I came together in our little corner. And our very dear and loving Pastor Jim came to pray over us, to bless us, and honor us.  Other people came to compliment me in one way or another. By the time it came to leave, my cup bubbled over with contentment and love, and the tears that came were from joy and laughter. I get home and proudly display my gifts. 

The one who hates my God, and is my enemy, did his best to keep me down today. He failed. My Father God blessed me greatly today, and answered my prayer for the healing of hurts and selfishness that marred my heart. I am still the mother of an emotional pre-teen and a special needs daughter, my house is still a mess, and my heart still needs healing, but God has kept His promises to never leave me, to help me when I call, and lift me out of my despair. He is my Comfort, my Joy, and my Healer. He is there, catching my tears, and weeping with me. 

Thank You, Daddy. 
Happy Mother's Day.