Unsung Mothers

I can think of few holidays that bring about silent pain as much as Mother's Day. I speak from experience. How many years did I yearn to be a mother, sitting in church watching all the moms get carnations with silent tears coursing down my cheeks? Being wished a "Happy Mother's Day" from well-meaning greeters, just because I'm a woman of child-bearing age. Finally, we stopped going to church altogether on Mother's Day weekend.

But it's not just women struggling with infertility who experience pain every Mother's Day. I think of those who have lost children...through miscarriage or stillbirth, tragic accidents in youth or even adulthood. I think of mothers of prodigal children...or those who have lost their mothers. What about mothers who haven't met their children yet? Moms who wait week after week for elusive papers to be issued by our own or other governments allowing them to travel and unite. Or moms here in America who are raising children, but aren't allowed to be recognized as "mom" until the foster care system has run its course...there are just so many silent pains that accompany Mother's Day.

Today I think of the unsung mothers...those who tearfully chose to release their children into the arms of another. Today is Birth Mother's Day.

There is one birth mother in particular with whom I feel a deep connection. She is a woman I will probably never meet in this life, though I pray I will in the next. I wonder everytime I look into the eyes of my daughter if I'm seeing the eyes of her other mom. I wonder if she knows how much her daughter is loved...I try to fathom the love this woman must have for a child she relinquished only two days after giving birth. Does she know how healthy and joyful our daughter is? I pray that God brings her comfort and peace everytime she remembers our beautiful girl, and I pray that God makes Himself abundantly real in her life, that she would choose to follow Jesus and we can meet in heaven.

We choose to honor this day with a bouquet of carnations, significant in China for the density of the petals and the many layers of a mother's love.

To the unsung mothers, thank you. To my sister somewhere in China, words can never begin to express to you how much I love you and thank you for our daughter.