A special Mother's Day writing for the motherless daughter

In a few days, mothers and daughters will gather and celebrate the relationship that begins from the first beat of a tiny heart deep in mother's womb.  The relationship that contains all the amazing moments of awe - from holding her tiny hand during her first hour of life, to holding her hand as she walks into Kindergarten, to holding her hand as she steps into her car as she drives off to college.


Mothers and Daughters. 

And for those whose of you whose mothers have either passed away or can no longer be in your life, may I sit with you for a minute?  May I pass you a warm cup of coffee and send you a glance of "I understand?"  May I put my arms around you and wipe a tear if you need me to?

It's okay to reflect on the moments that have passed within the endless arms of times and find yourself longing.

I know I do.

Time passes and life happens, and as birthdays, first days of school, anniversaries, baby showers, first steps, talent shows, family gatherings, and new jobs happen, we are reminded.

We are reminded 
of the journey 
that we walk without her.



Mom.



 Sometimes it's hard to be the motherless daughter when you see mothers and daughters all around you.  Just yesterday I saw a mom and daughter come out of a restaurant and they were laughing amidst the time they were sharing. And while I was happy for them...it made me long.

At age 34, I wish I had a Mom.
And the little girl of my heart perhaps always will long for a Mommy.

I wish I had a Mom to stroke the hair back from my face and tell me that it would be okay.
I wish I had a Mom who would call me at the end of the day ... even if it was just to annoy me.
I wish I had a Mom who could be there to watch her grandchildren grow up and smile as she sees a legacy form amongst the years that pass.
I wish I had a Mom who could hold my hand and we could compare how similar our hands are.
I wish I had a Mom who would tell me things like "Strive for excellence, not perfection".
I wish I could see the words at the end of a birthday card, addressed to me: "Love, Mom"

I wish I had a Mom who would have put pink bandaids on my knee and made me believe that kisses really did heal booboos.

Because they do. 






I believe that the Lord hears my longing ... and yours. And I believe that He is there in the moments when we are sitting curled up alone on the corner of your couch and in the moments when you want to stomp your feet and say, "It's not fair!"

God knows.
God cares about us.
And He catches all the tears that fall .... and even the ones that don't.

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
~Psalm 56:8

Rest in Him this weekend, if you need to.  I promise, He can fill those gaps that you might notice more this time of year.

"You are your mother’s daughter, created in your Father God’s image. And nothing can break that." - LisaJo

~
Marlena