We are in a hospital on Mother’s day. We need to have tears wiped away from our eyes. None of us wants to be here. Except, perhaps, for those in the Family Birthing Center who have just been through labor and are holding a newborn, healthy and squalling or content.
For them, we rejoice and are grateful.
The rest of us are working rather than celebrating, worrying about treatments, anticipating what may happen before the end of the day.
We’re missing mothers who are gone or who have never been around.
We grieve the loss of children and of opportunities.
We usually confess something here, God, some ways that we have fallen short. But on Mother’s day, most of us have a deep awareness of those ways.
And so I ask for healing.
I ask that you will make my sisters aware of your sufficiency and theirs.
I ask that you will make my sisters aware of your grace and theirs.
I ask that you will make us all aware of your forgiveness for what we have done and haven’t done.
I ask that you will make us aware of who we are and not constantly lament who we are not.
I ask that you will make us all aware of ways that we can offer your love and ours, your healing and ours, your presence and ours, to those who need it.
May it be so.