I USED TO HATE MOTHER’S DAY
(Written for the woman who can have no children)

I used to HATE mother’s day.
Good Christians shouldn’t say things like that but my barren wrapped womb forced me to despise the celebration. I hated it. It was a celebration that cornered me into the unwanted, unfruitful, and unreliable section of the party.

Every year I loathed the pitied invite. My heart cringed at the “honorable mention” at this event which was not thrown for me. The prayers, looks of concern, and other meaningful gestures pointed me out in my ugly barren dress. Every kind word lost its way through my tortured ears of shame. All I ever heard was, “such a waste of a waist.”

I used to hate mother’s day.

Fast forward a decade or so, do I still hate it? Yes and no. Through God’s sanctifying work, I no longer live in the realm of hatred but the yearly celebration still burns my heart a little. I’ve come to terms with my reality; grown accustomed to my life without kids and what I had hoped for for me.

Truth be told, I did nothing. God did everything. 
 Somehow He transformed my heart from seething flames of anger into a tame reddish glow. I am not sure when it happened really; His grace and love surprised me. Being moved from the searing place of hatred to one of smouldering acceptance was good for me. I like my new corner of the party. From this vantage point, I even now celebrate a little.

Just a little.

I used to hate Mother’s Day, but now I live in forgiveness.

I forgive God for giving me this particular weighty cross. Not like God needs forgiveness, but the acknowledgment of my anger towards Him was the first step in my healing. I forgive myself and my body for being so unwanted, unfruitful and unreliable. No more body shaming. I used to live in a pseudo-state of pregnancy, one day hoping that the largeness of my belly would somehow produce a baby. Now, I am on the road to being healthy. I forgive society and my family for expecting of me something I would never deliver. They mean well. Their honourable mentions and prayers are now OK with me.

I’m OK with me.

I used to hate Mother’s Day but now, not so much. I’m now seated in my new corner call love and every now and then, I sashay through the room in my new dress call forgiveness.

It’s Mother’s Day, so let’s celebrate.

Just a little.