WHEN

For the Mother's Day that belongs to every one of us

Somewhere along the way, we got so afraid of hurting someone on Mother's Day that we forgot to actually celebrate it.

And friend, I think it's time we fix that.

I get it. I really do. The intentions are good. Nobody wants to be the one who makes a grieving woman cry in the third row. Nobody wants to ignore the woman in the back who has been waiting years for a positive pregnancy test. The sensitivity comes from a real place, and that part is beautiful.

But somewhere between being careful and being kind, we started quietly apologizing for something God never apologized for.

And friend, I'm not writing this from a safe distance. I lost a baby. I walked through a season where I quietly made peace with the idea that maybe motherhood wasn't in my future anymore. And then God, in His wildly unexpected way, sent me a boy I hadn't planned for but had somehow always prayed for. I lost my mom, my greatest example of faith, the woman who taught me what it looks like to trust God when nothing makes sense, on a Sunday. The Sunday before Mother's Day.

So when I say I get it, I mean it. I have sat in the hard seat too. I'm not writing at you. I'm sitting right next to you.

And I still believe this day is worth celebrating. Maybe now more than ever.

He created motherhood. He called it good. He wove it into the very fabric of how love works in this world. The sacrifice, the nurturing, the fierce protection, the laying down of yourself for another. Scripture doesn't tiptoe around it.

"Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her."  Proverbs 31:28

Rise up. Call her blessed. That's not a suggestion. That's a command with a celebration built right into it.

So this Mother's Day weekend, we celebrate. Fully. Boldly. Without apology.

And here's what I also believe with everything in me: that celebration has room enough for every single woman reading this. Not in a watered-down, let's-not-offend-anyone kind of way. In a the table is bigger than you think kind of way.

Because the God who designed motherhood is also the God who sits with the brokenhearted. He doesn't choose between honoring and healing. He does both, at the same time, in the same breath, for the same woman.

So pull up a chair, friend. All of you. This day belongs to you too.

Maybe this Mother's Day looks nothing like the commercials. Maybe there's no breakfast in bed. No sticky little handprints on construction paper. Maybe the morning is quiet in a way that feels less like peace and more like absence.

And maybe, even so, there is still something here worth celebrating. Something in you worth honoring this Sunday. Let's find it together.

Maybe you are missing your mom.

Maybe she's been gone a week, a year, or a decade and this day has a hole in it shaped exactly like her. Maybe she was the kind of woman whose faith made you believe God was real just by watching her live. Maybe you keep reaching for the phone to call her and remembering all over again.

Friend, the love she planted in you did not leave when she did.

Every time you pray, every time you choose faith when fear would be easier, every time you love your people the way she loved hers, she is still bearing fruit. That is worth celebrating today.

"She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue." Proverbs 31:26

Her words are still on your tongue. Her faith is still in your bones. Honor her today by living like it.

Maybe you are carrying a loss nobody else can see.

Maybe it was early. Maybe the world never knew. Maybe you've never said it out loud to anyone, and you're reading this alone wondering if your grief is even allowed to take up space. 

It is. It absolutely is.

You loved someone. Completely, instantly, fiercely the way only a mother can. That love was real and it counted. You counted. And the God who knew that child before you did has never for one second forgotten either of you. 

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you." Jeremiah 1:5

He knew. He always knew. And He knows you today.

That is not a reason to shrink back from this day. That is a reason to let yourself be held by the One who holds all the things we can't.

Maybe today you are still waiting.

For a yes. For a match. For a miracle. For a body that cooperates. For the family you have been praying for longer than you thought you could keep praying.

Can I tell you something? I know what it is to receive the gift I thought God had taken off the table. I know what it is when He does what you stopped believing He still could. I'm not saying that to minimize your waiting, I'm saying it because I need you to know that the waiting is not the end of your story.

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11

Hope. And a future. Both of them. For you.

The waiting is not a closed door. Sometimes it's just the hallway before the room where everything changes.

Maybe today motherhood feels heavier than you expected.

Maybe the gap between what you imagined and what is actually happening is wider than you know how to cross. Maybe you love your children with everything you have and still fall into bed at night wondering if you're doing any of it right.

Here is what I know: the fact that you care that much is already the answer.

And here is what God knows: He did not give you this calling without also giving you everything you need to walk it out, even on the days it doesn't feel that way.

"She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future." Proverbs 31:25

Strength and dignity. That's you, friend. Even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days.

Maybe today the relationship with your child is your quietest heartbreak.

Maybe there is distance between you that you didn't choose and don't know how to close. Maybe you love someone who doesn't know how to receive it right now.

Keep loving. Keep praying. Keep showing up.

That is motherhood in one of its most heroic, least celebrated forms and God sees every single bit of it.

"Love is patient, love is kind... it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." 1 Corinthians 13:4,7

Always. That word does a lot of heavy lifting. Let it carry you today.

Here's what I want you to hear before you close this tab:

Motherhood, in every form it takes, in every season it finds you, is one of the most profound reflections of God's love that exists on this earth. The sacrifice. The hope. The fierce, stubborn, keeps-going-anyway love.

That is worth celebrating. You are worth celebrating.

Not because everything is perfect. Not because the story is finished. But because you are in it. Loving, hoping, grieving, waiting, showing up. And that is no small thing.

"She is worth far more than rubies."  Proverbs 31:10

That's you, friend. On the good days and the hard ones. On the days that look like the commercials and the days that look nothing like them.

Happy Mother's Day! In every real, brave, beautiful, complicated way it looks for you today. 🌸 All for His glory!

Love,

Andrea Anderegg

------------

Did something here meet you where you are? Share it with a woman who needs it today. And leave a comment below, let's celebrate each other. We were never meant to do this alone.