It’s not what you think.
It’s the eve of another Mother’s Day and I’m trying to figure out a way to celebrate the woman who has made the biggest difference in my life.
She loves me.
She teaches me.
She dreams with me.
She sees the best in me even when I’m not able to see it.
She is my biggest fan and encourager.
She prays for me.
And I thank God for her. I’ll take her to dinner and give her a card that, I hope, expresses how much I love and appreciate her.
But as I’ve gotten older, Mother’s Day has meant something else to me. I’m single and have no children of my own. And I’m over 40. You see where this is going…
I love and adore the women in my life who have become mothers. I’ve went with them to buy the test and have celebrated alongside them when the stick said yes. I’ve thrown baby showers (really cute ones, if I do say so myself). I’ve been one of the first aunties to welcome their little humans into the world at the hospital (it’s a miracle, for sure…but WHOA!). I’ve encouraged them to keep being the awesome mom’s that they are when they’ve only had 2 hours sleep and their nipples are bleeding (It’s probably TMI, but the struggle is real y’all). However, in the past few years, my heart has sunk just a little when I can’t stand during ‘that’ part of the Mother’s day service at church.
So why is it a happy Mother’s day to me this year?
No, I’m not pregnant. But I am expecting.
I’m expecting that God is going to continue to work this thing called motherhood out through me.
I can love.
I can dream.
I can see the best in others when they don’t see it in themselves.
I can be the biggest fan and the loudest encourager.
And I can definitely pray.
I’m expecting that I’m going to begin to see that, although I have not bore a child of my own, I can still be a mother.
So happy Mother’s day to every one of you wonderful and fabulous women who are teaching me how it’s done.
Happy Mother’s day to the one I call Mom (or Ma, most the time).
And, happy Mother’s day to me.