Mother's Day Rebellion

Confession: Mother's Day makes me cringe.

It's not that I don't appreciate the sentiment. I do. I love that I get to mother actual, human children. I love the family drawings with "Mom" scrawled above the stick figure with long hair. I love the fingerprint pictures and the freshly-planted flowers lovingly transported from preschool and presented on Mother's Day. I love being the one who's best at applying and removing band-aids, telling scary bedtime stories, and rinsing hair while maintaining a low water-to-eyeball ratio. To two precious souls I am the "Mama" in "Mama, look!", "Mama, help!", and "Mama, what IS this?!?" --and for this I fall on my face in gratitude before their maker. There is nothing on the face of this planet I would rather do than pour out my God-given instinct to nurture and protect upon the boys in my care.

But Mother's Day can be so TEDIOUS. I've never sat through a Mother's Day Sunday church service without looking around and seeing tears on the faces of other women. It's not enough to reason that being sad about not being a mother on Mother's Day is the equivalent of crying because you're a kindergartner at a college graduation. Mother's Day isn't about receiving recognition. It's about celebrating the act of motherhood. And we've pigeonholed what that means. I'm tired of hearing people I adore say that they skip church on Mother's Day because it's just too painful. My sisters--you precious people who have believed the lie that a mother is only a person who births children or raises them on a full-time basis. Why do we perpetuate this myth when Genesis 1 is arguably the most readily-accessible book in the Bible?

God spoke: "Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature, so they can be responsible for the fish in the sea, the birds in the air, the cattle, and yes, Earth itself, and every animal that moves on the face of the Earth." (Genesis 1: 26, The Message)

I've been the crying chick in the church pew. I wish someone had taken my hands and said to me: Grieve. And know that mothering isn't just about being pregnant and having kids. God knows this. He created you for more. And he hasn't forgotten you.

This Mother's Day, I propose we change the rules.

Let's DO celebrate Motherhood. Let's honor the woman who treasures the environment, the Earth itself. Let's lift up the lady who fights for the rights of orphans. Let's give a bit of credit to the girl who saves stray animals from their suffering. Let's celebrate the woman who takes homeless and hurting people under her wing. Let's thank the gal who would give her last breath for the babies she brought into the world. Let's wrap our arms around the mom who is a mother in her heart and can't understand why she hasn't had the kids to prove this. Because really--Who among us is unaffected when nearly 300 girls are abducted by terrorists in one fell swoop? Who doesn't bat an eyelid when faced with the fact that nearly 19,000 kids under 5 die every day from preventable diseases? God has planted in each of us an instinct to protect, nurture, and love. What if Mother's Day becomes about affirming these qualities where we find them?

Look, ladies, we're all in this together. We are the caregivers, the resilient, responsible ones. We pour ourselves out for people without voices. We are the ones who are emotionally connected to this planet and its creatures. We feel it. We birth children, ideas, and endurance, and we bear the pain of it with dignity and grace. There's not a one of us who is greater than the other on Mother's Day. And we've got to support each other rather than alienate and draw lines, because frankly, those strong and awesome men aren't cut out for this stuff.

Here's to moms everywhere, kids or no kids.