The moment He took His first breath, I became His mother. And I celebrated my first mother’s day.

Overjoyed with my child. My baby boy.

A newborn placed in my arms. My life forever altered.

Swaddled by cloths, though adorned with royal titles.

Wonderful. Counselor. Prince of Peace. Holy King. Immanuel (God now with me). The Ancient of Days.

Barely minutes old and seemingly fragile. But this baby embodied the fullness of the Godhead.

Power demonstrated years later when He cast out evil spirits and raised the dead.

As I gazed intently at Him, the goodness and greatness of God spilled out.

Mother’s Day for a New Mom

I studied every feature.

His eyes. They gazed into the hearts of men. I watched His mouth as He yawned and cried. Life-giving words were later spoken by Him. Words commanding even the winds and waves to obey.

I laid my hand on His chest. The rise and fall of breaths ladened with grace. A strong heartbeat surfaced. But the day arrived when His heart—broken and betrayed—offered forgiveness.

Wrapping my fingers around His tiny hands. Hands that grew and comforted, extended healing, and restored sight. His hands stretched out to give hope, peace, and life—pierced on a wooden cross.

Mothers always inspect feet. (Yes, five toes on each one.) His were beautiful. I’d felt them kicking inside me.

A baby’s feet are precious. Stare-worthy. His feet walked on water, were anointed with perfume, and pierced by nails.

I drew the Christ-child to my chest in a snuggled embrace. Yet, His embrace offers more warmth and security than any earthly mother bestows.

How ironic I nursed Him to sustain physical life, whereas He is the bread of life.

Mother’s Day for the Mom of Jesus

I delighted in watching Him grow. There was no one like Jesus: His smile, His voice, His presence, and His spirit. He possessed great compassion, humility, love, and tenderness.

But it wasn’t always easy being His mother. Not understanding His life or grasping my son’s love and mission.

And with a mangled heart, I sobbed at the foot of the cross. Why, son? What greater purpose could mend this mother’s broken heart?

. . . though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Philippians 2:6-11 (ESV)

Jesus. A baby placed in my arms at birth, then a manger. A God-man placed on a cross to die for me.

Raised to life, He took His place seated at the right hand of the heavenly Father.

~ Mary the mother of Jesus

Mother’s Day for Us

We can only speculate on Mary’s thoughts.

With Mother’s Day around the corner, what are your reflections? Perhaps it’s a wonderful day of warm celebration and joy for you. Or maybe, it’s a reminder of loss or painful memories.

I’m blessed with a daughter and son I’m proud of and dearly love. I wear the name tag of mother-in-law to a wonderful man.

Also, I bear the title “Mimi” to my grandchildren. Oh, how wonderful!

Yet, I lost a baby in utero. One day I’ll see that child in heaven.

So, whether Mother’s Day brings fond memories or sad ones. Whether the occasion causes joy or pain.

Or the celebration reminds us of void and loss in our childhood or our womb or a wayward child. Whatever our “mom” status this Mother’s Day.

God remains our heavenly Father. He not only created motherhood, but He also celebrates it with us, and heals any hurt.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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