Mothers are not all the same

Some people find it difficult to celebrate Mother's Day.

The Scripture

Psalm 63
interpreted by Deborah

O Glorious One, You are my God;
there is no one like You;
I have caught glimpses
of Your radiance,
felt glimmerings
of Your love,
and my soul rejoices.

And I praise You.

O Lovingkindness, You are my God;
Your compassion extends
to the ends of the earth,
to the ends of the cosmos,
giving life to all that is,
and all that ever shall be

And I praise You.

Almighty Healer, You are my God;
there is nothing —
and no one — outside
of Your love;
no spirit so tortured,
no soul so withered,
no heart so hardened
that it cannot be healed
and restored to fullness.

And I praise You.

O Sacred Darkness, You are my God;
You are there in the nighttime;
in the lonely watches,
the desolate hallways,
the empty rooms,
the silent vigils;
You are there.

And I praise you.

O Eternal Song, You are my God;
I hear Your voice in the sunrise,
it calls from every flower,
and echoes across the grain-gold fields;
the birds exult in You in the tree tops,
the seas and rivers clap their hands,
and all nature sings along;
You are wondrous.

And I praise You.

O Alpha and Omega, You are my God;
You were there at my beginning,
before I was formed
You knew my nature
and called my name;
You’ll be there at my ending,
to take my hand,
and see me through;
precious Savior and Redeemer,
there is no one like You.

And I praise You.

Praise the Lord!


Photo of a flower

Good Mothers and Other Mothers

flowersAbout Mothers

For the best of mothers:
the good mothers,
those who struggled
who sometimes slipped,
for those who tried
and occasionally failed,
who tired
but never gave up,
we give thanks
and joyful praise;

they did their best,
they saw us through:
the puke and poop,
tantrums and tears,
heart breaks and tummy aches,
the snot and snottiness,
the terrible twos,
the terrifying teens,
throughout it all
they loved us —

Those who held us,
hugged us,
and then
trusted us
to let us fly free;
to spread our wings,
to do and dare —
buoyed on their faith
and lifted up
in their never-ending prayers.

We give thanks
and celebrate
those mothers,
honor their lives,
cherish their memories
and shower them
with flowers and candy:
those mothers —
the ones Hallmark believes in,
the ones who love
and are loved;
the only ones
our society professes
to know.

But there are
other mothers,
mothers who hurt
and hate
and manipulate;
who seek to destroy
those they brought into being;
to dominate,
mark and wound
and maim;
women whose cold,
grasping fingers
strangle their children,
clinging, constricting,
controlling —
even from beyond the grave.

We remember them,
with sorrow,
and with pity —
for the joys they denied themselves
and the love lost
to their children.

And we remember
those children
who have not known
a “mother’s love,”
but only its inverse;
who smile and prevaricate,
avoid the subject,
grieving silently,
on Mother’s Day.

We remember them
with tenderness
and compassion;
we lift them up in our love,
hold them gently in our hearts,
and pray
that they may find peace,
and be comforted;
that their hurts
may be healed;
that their suffering
may be acknowledged,
that their lives —
their strength and persistence —
shall be celebrated;
that they shall be assured
of their worth.

On Mother’s Day —
and every day that God gives us —
may we be embodiments
of the best of mothers,
and be true and kind
nurturers and encouragers
of one another;

thus shall we truly honor
and celebrate
the good mothers
who blessed us
with their lives.


May Christ’s grace and healing love abound,


Suggested Spiritual Exercises

What aspects of your mother are you grateful for?
How has your life been influenced by your mother?
What did you learn from your mother?

Bless and give thanks for all the good.