Five Things It's Okay to Do if Mother's Day Is Hard for You
Last week I shared a little insight into what Mother's Day was like for me in 2016, just weeks after saying goodbye to our oldest son, Jacob. I wanted you to know that no matter where you are in life - childless, motherless, arms full of children but still hurting, friends with someone who is hurting, etc... - you are not alone. That you have value in your strength + vulnerability that is unmatched in the essence of motherhood.
I wanted to follow up with some slightly more practical suggestions - but more like five permission slips - for you as it relates to Mother's Day, since the next week and a half is leading up to this holiday that is very sweet for many, but hard for some...
It's okay to give yourself freedom.
Give yourself grace. I can't tell you how many times I say this to others and yet struggle so hard for it to be true for myself. I think the reason why I share it so much with other people is that I need to believe it more than they do. I want you to hear, first and foremost, that this is a time to give yourself grace. For many of us that looks like permission and freedom to let things go. Especially in a world marked by a virus forcing us into isolation, it is imperative that you allow yourself the space to say I can't do this right now.
You haven't cleaned your house this week? That is okay. You have ordered take-out way too many times? Who cares? You're supporting small businesses... or something. You want to sign off social media this month to avoid all the posts? No one minds at all. Trust me.
Take a break and give yourself freedom from the things that are weighing you down and give yourself grace to do what you need to instead.
It's okay to do a new thing.
Maybe your tradition for Mother's Day always looked one way with your family and this year your mom isn't here so it stings. You may want to recreate the tradition anyway, because that feels right and good and "normal" in a time where normalcy has gone out the window. But maybe you would rather create a new tradition or a new form of celebrating that looks like creating new memories in honor of your mom or getting away for the weekend with your friends because you want to escape. Maybe it looks like cooking your own special dinner at your house because it gives you life and that quiet time with a glass of wine allows you the space to cry or have memories or think about something completely different than what you wish today was like. Maybe you go out to a fancy brunch with just you and your husband - pampering yourself.
Try something new. It may be life-giving for you!
It's okay to say no.
You have the permission to externally celebrate with someone while internally crying... going back to your car to shut the door and lose it before you even make it out of their driveway. You have the permission to say no to a brunch that might not be hard right now. You have the permission to press pause this week on your typical rejoicing-while-others-rejoice because you know that you will resume it later. Right now, you can breathe, and invite others in to weep while you weep. (Those two commands are not mutually exclusive, but that doesn't mean that you ignore one consistently in order to do the other.)
We are humans, limited and finite. We cannot say yes to everything and there are times where it might be better for us to say no, to not attend, or to wait to respond to something in order that our presence later might be more meaningful and significance. And if you're one who wants to say yes because you know it'll actually be healthier for you: do that, too. But I want you to hear me say - it is okay to say no to invitations.
It's okay to turn to Jesus.
There are some things that we carry with shame in our pain, hurt and aches. Mother's Day isn't mentioned in the Bible. There are lots of verses about moms and honor and loving other people before ourselves. But nowhere is Mother's Day commanded. And don't get me wrong - Mother's Day is a sweet, fine thing, and moms absolutely deserve to be honored and celebrated with love. Yes. For sure. But I'm just saying it's not a biblically mandated holiday.
And yet.
It still feels so hard and heavy for some of us to get through. But get this. Jesus - fully man (and fully God), not a mother - still understands and will bear your burdens and your pain. So turn to him. He says "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest," in Matthew 11. He doesn't say "Come to me if your burdens look exactly like _____" - he just says to come, with your burdens. He promises rest.
So it may be hard for you to open your Bible right now. You may be so angry at your circumstances. But turn to Jesus. Come to him with your burdens, with your weariness. He will give you rest.
It's okay to look forward to what is to come.
We have this hope as Christians for the future. I recently read this in 1 Thessalonians and it has stuck with me the past few weeks:
[We do not] grieve as others who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those [who knew him and have already died].
1 Thessalonians 4:13-14
*Note I paraphrased the parts in the brackets
This concept of hope has been sticking with me since I read it a few weeks ago. We do not grieve as those who have no hope. Why? Jesus died and rose again. And why does that matter? Because God will bring with him those he loves.
We can look forward to the future. We can look forward to our ultimate future knowing that God gives us hope in him that one day "all the sad things will become untrue" (Sally Lloyd-Jones in The Jesus Storybook Bible referencing Revelation 21:3). All of it. No more tears, no more sorrow. No more death. No more pain and sin. Nothing that makes Mother's Day hard right now will be there in eternity. All of it will be gone.
And because we live here, after Christ rose again and yet before Eternity (which theologians refer to as between "the now and the not yet") we can still have hope. Hope that in the pain, God will be with us. Hope that one day this will not be as painful as it is today. Hope that right now, as we speak, we have the Holy Spirit who is seeking God on our behalf putting words to the things that we cannot.
It is okay to say, "This day - Mother's Day, or the day leading up to it, or whatever day is currently hard - does not own me... and I can endure it without it making me feel there is some sort of goalpost to reach in order to have an identity and a purpose... because God has the final say and he says there is hope to come. He gives me an identity and a purpose larger than how I feel or react when I consider this holiday."
Being able to look forward to what's to come allows you the chance to acknowledge with God that this isn't how it should be and yet that there is the "as it should be" coming.
Most of all, in all of this, my hope is that you see that you have so much freedom and grace to embrace the mess and the hard (and to cry because of it!), to put blinders on and focus on Jesus, and to also look forward to the day when sin and death is no more. That day is coming. Your days won't always be hard.
Keep your eye out on The Morning if you'd like to see more actually practical things for how to celebrate Mother's Day, especially if you're a grieving mama. But also, keep this heart in mind, too. You are loved. So, so loved. And I'm praying for you.
I'd love to hear other things that you've found to be super grounding and helpful as you anticipate holidays like Mother's Day when they're hard for you. Will you share them with me below? I could use some fresh eyes into this, too!