About a month ago, a couple of the companies I order from online sent me emails—not unusual; I get more than enough of those. But these were different. They asked me something I didn’t expect: “Do you want to opt out of Mother’s Day emails this year?” And then, just this past week, they did the same for Father’s Day.
The message behind these little checkboxes was clear: they recognized that for many people, these days are not always joyful. Or at least, not only joyful. There’s a complicated swirl of feelings that come with these holidays—some deeply grateful, others quietly grieving. And I thought, ‘how wise. How kind.’
It reminded me that one of the things I love about our church family at UMCG is that we try to approach these kinds of days gently.
We understand that Mother’s Day and Father’s Day can bring comfort and celebration—but also pain, absence, disappointment, and longing. So, in worship, we don’t single people out or ask mothers or fathers to stand. We don’t offer roses or run slideshows of smiling family photos. Instead, we lift prayers that hold space for the full range of human experience.
We recognize that parenthood is sacred—and that it takes many forms.
We recognize that womanhood is rich and holy, whether it includes motherhood or not.
We recognize that loss is real and so is healing.
We recognize that God is present in all of it.
A few years ago, I came across a prayer that captures this beautifully. It’s called A Prayer for Mother’s Day—originally written by Amy Young and later adapted by Heidi Carrington Heath. The version I’m sharing below was posted by Sarah Bessey, a Christian writer and advocate I deeply admire.
This prayer has become part of how I approach Mother’s Day, both as a pastor and as a person. It honors the stories in Scripture—of joy, of grief, of courage, and of fierce, complicated love—and it honors the stories in our pews and our hearts today.
So, this weekend, I want you to know: this is the prayer I’m holding in my heart for all women. And come Father’s Day, I’ll pray something like it for all men too.
You are seen.
You are not alone.
And you are loved—by this community and by the God who parents us all with perfect, compassionate grace.
A Prayer for Mother’s Day (Originally by Amy Young, adapted by Heidi Carrington Heath, republished by Sarah Bessey) I want you to know I’m praying for you if you are like Tamar, struggling with infertility, or a miscarriage. I want you to know that I’m praying for you if you are like Rachel, counting the women among your family and friends who year by year and month by month get pregnant, while you wait. I want you to know I’m praying for you if you are like Naomi, and have known the bitter sting of a child’s death. I want you to know I am praying for you if you are like Joseph and Benjamin, and your Mom has died. I want you to know that I am praying for you if your relationship with your Mom was marked by trauma, abuse, or abandonment, or she just couldn’t parent you the way you needed. I want you to know I am praying for you if you’ve been like Moses’ mother and put a child up for adoption, trusting another family to love your child into adulthood. I want you to know I am praying for you if you’ve been like Pharaoh’s daughter, called to love children who are not yours by birth (and thus the mother who brought that child into your life, even if it is complicated). I want you to know I am praying for you if you, like many, are watching (or have watched) your mother age, and disappear into the long goodbye of dementia. I want you to know that I am praying for you if you, like Mary, are pregnant for the very first time and waiting breathlessly for the miracle of your first child. I want you to know that I am praying for you if your children have turned away from you, painfully closing the door on relationship, leaving you holding your broken heart in your hands. And like Hagar, now you are mothering alone. I want you to know that I am praying for you if motherhood is your greatest joy and toughest struggle all rolled into one. I want you to know that I am praying for you if you are watching your child battle substance abuse, a public legal situation, mental illness, or another situation which you can merely watch unfold. I want you to know that I am praying for you if you like so many women before you do not wish to be a mother, are not married, or in so many other ways do not fit into societal norms. I want you to know that I am praying for you if you see yourself reflected in all, or none of these stories. This Mother’s Day, wherever and whoever you are, we walk with you. You are loved. You are seen. You are worthy. And may you know the deep love without end of our big, wild, beautiful God who is the very best example of a parent that we know. Amen. ________________________________________ Original prayer published at: http://www.messymiddle.com/Beyond-the-surface-of-mothering