As a child, I felt inadequate on this Day because my mother actively discouraged me from treating her to breakfast in bed or of acting any different to usual. She was very controlling and preferred always to do things her way, irrespective of what any well-meant action on this Day represented.
I was an avid reader from a very young age and having read about a little girl buying her mum a blue glass vase for Mother's Day I resolved to do the same. I was so little that I had to ask my dad to get it. He was a good dad but definitely a product of his generation so I wasn't allowed to go and choose it with him and while he asked me what kind of vase I had in mind, he evidently didn't listen because he came back with a beige and brown pot affair with hideous red splodges on it. I was disappointed but not surprised. He wasn't being mean, it was just how things were. My mother seemed pleased with it, however. She was never keen on chocolates, flowers or smellies so could be challenging to buy for.
Since Adi and I discovered we couldn't have children and then miscarrying our tiny twins nearly fifteen years ago, I have struggled with Mother's Day. Advertisers always seem to assume everything is hunky-dory and make no provision for heartache, loss and empty arms,
Thinking of all this, this morning I wondered what God thinks about Mother's Day. I was reminded that He heals the broken-hearted and binds up our wounds. And the Father comprehends exactly the heartache caused in losing a beloved child.
So today I celebrate the hurting women.