HOME TOUR

Dear Heart,

Mother’s Day means so many different things doesn’t it?  Like most holidays, it reminds you of stuff. And sometimes you don’t want to remember. It reminds you of people you miss, times you miss and sometimes you don’t need reminding to know there’s a great big void in your world. Or worst yet, perhaps it reminds you of things you never got–a difficult upbringing, a miscarriage, the loss of a little one far too young or even a decision. And this is perhaps the hardest, the robbery of a heart of something so remarkable as motherhood or simply, sweet sweet time with your person. Dear heart, walking through the hard things is never meant to be easy. It’s never meant to feel good. But it can do something good in you that makes the journey through worth it.

We’re living in a crucible of sorts at the moment. Our worlds are smaller because we are “safe at home” and depending on your heart stance at the moment, you may want to remove the “safe at” part and replace it with profanity. No, our worlds are far from easy or “normal” at the moment. Our lives no longer reach into the workplace or the classroom, pick-up lines at school or shopping malls. This crucible of home can magnify the woes of a broken heart, especially if your home is quiet and empty. And then, we approach Mother’s Day and dear heart, it can break you quickly if you’re already hurting.

I find myself asking, “where does the lovely live in this unsettled place, in the fluster and impatience?” Is it even possible to find lovely when things hurt and aren’t right? When you’re losing your mind in the midst of the ordinary, where’s the lovely there? Losing your mom, saying goodbye to someone dear…where could the good possibly be? How do I honor you momma when I can’t even walk outside without a mandatory face mask–when trying to buy flowers becomes an exercise in tolerance I’ve never known or when some brilliant person decided closing the beach was a good idea?

I miss you momma. I wish you could see all the lovely happening here even in the hard. Now you’d be going crazy with HomeGoods closed and we’d be doing a whole lot of commiserating our shared woes over Zoom but I imagine, like all the hard things you walked through, that you would exude a certain level of grace that one would either want to envy or pursue.

My money is on pursue because when you see that kind of good in people you’re meant to pursue it. It pulls us towards a betterment in our hearts because heart, well you were made for good before everything went awry.

Walking towards this day on the calendar takes a certain amount of bravery dear heart. It takes bravery to walk boldly through infertility, through grief or mom guilt. Through memories and wavering hopes.

Dear heart sad and blue, may you know your pain has worth. It has a place in your story and ultimately a purpose. May you know that beauty can rise up out of this waiting place, the grieving place, the overwhelmed place. Oh dear heart, there is lovely here.

Oh heart of mine, see those babies you didn’t know you’d get. Those babies you begged the Lord for. See those faces and hearts of those needy little people you adore. Oh how they wear out the word “mom” by 10 am each day and oh how the patience wears out like a good pair of sandals all the way through an Indian summer. But heart, don’t stop seeing the gift in this day, in this day you’ve been dreading. Don’t stop living wildly with heaven in mind. With that intention and grace your momma exuded so perfectly. Remember, all things can be made new, even a Mother’s Day. So grieving heart, this day can be made new for you if you let it. Jesus makes all things new. Hope can come from the hardest of ground, the deepest grief, the most hopeless of places. Hope dear heart. May you find it this Mother’s Day no matter what season you find yourself in.

Sweet captures by my friend, Ruth Eileen Photography. Because capturing the little years and kiddo quirks is oh so important. Memories, why they’re a precious thing indeed.