Mother’s Day is a tricky topic. I’ll admit that this is my 3rd attempt to write a Mother’s Day post. Part of this issue is that, for me, Mother’s Day is a mixed bag.
I know for a fact that Sunday will not be a day to celebrate me and nothing but me, morning to night. Part of the reason is that Mother’s Day and my husband’s birthday have a sneaky habit of coinciding. Then there’s the fact that my son is coming home from a school trip at 6 am after driving for 10 hours. He’s going to need to get some sleep and then get some homework done. I’m hoping we can squeeze in lunch out and the latest Avengers movie.
Yes, the Avengers. That’s my version of a wild and crazy Mother’s Day dream.
Not your cup of tea? Then don’t pick it up.
Part of the reason that Mother’s Day is a mixed bag is that it means something different for everyone. There are the women who want nothing more than a spa day and a massage. Me? I’d rather spend time at the archery range as a family.
Then there are the women who have lost children. Or have never had children. Or who have lost their own mothers and grandmothers. For many of them, Mother’s Day is like knowing someone is about to tear off a band aid.
The chance that we are all going to get a perfect Mother’s Day is pretty slim. But what can you expect? Perfection is for God alone. We, on the other hand, aren’t even close, but that doesn’t change something important. We may not be perfect, but we are His. He created each and every one of us, different as we are.
There is no one perfect Mother’s Day, because we all need something different out of it simply because we are a marvelously diverse bunch. And that’s okay, because that’s the way God made us.