I don’t know if every mother who bears a son feels the way I do about mine: But when I look at him, I’m physically drawn to touch his face, ruffle his hair, pull him close. I also have a strong urge  to clean his glasses, wipe the chocolate smudge, check for deodorant, smother this lanky son.

Maybe it’s because he’s affectionate like his father or because some days he’s the only who asks how my day was and really wants to know.  Maybe it’s because he’s a lover, not a fighter. I just know my heart is connected to his in a special way. He grows taller with every sunset and I feel my grip loosening. He seeks independence. I give him bits and pieces. He comes back to reassure me. Oh, this boy.

He is smart and sensitive. He is compassionate and is shaped by mercy. He is quick-witted and a tad sarcastic. I have no idea where he gets that from.

The world is a boiling pot with mounting pressure.  I long to shield him from it. But he feels the heat anyway. This is the life we are called to. But I’m the first to admit that– living in the world, but not being a part of it– is tricky, hard business.

Son, ten years ago today, I was stuffing my face full of chicken chop chop -a dinner break- on the way to the hospital. You entered this world easily, quietly and I didn’t even mess up my makeup. Your gentle nature has been nothing but a blessing to this momma’s heart. Little did I know that ten years would pass in a blur and that every time you hear the word balls, you’d have a hilarious-albeit irreverent-comment. (We need to work on that).

On your 10th birthday, I want you to know:

You are enough: The world will demand more from you, constantly trying to convince you to change and give more, be more. But you are good enough just the way you are. You are created in His image and there is only One you must please in this life. It’s just beginning, this pressure to fit in to a certain mold. Resist it. You don’t have to be like everyone else, be like Him and everything else will lose it’s significance.

You can do it: You can be and do whatever you want in this life. Never give up or listen to the voice of doubt that says you can’t. Work hard and always try. We live in a world that offers more doubt than encouragement: don’t listen to those voices. Our greatest successes are built on the steps of our failures. If your dreams aren’t bigger than you, then they aren’t God-sized dreams.

You are not alone: As you get older, you want more freedom from your Dad and I. This is natural and the way God created us–one day you will lead your own family. We will journey along side you, but in our imperfection, we will disappoint you along the way. But God will never let you down and he will never leave you alone. If you’ve got Him, you have all you need in this life.

You are loved: I hope you feel the love seep deep in your bones, this crushing love we have for you. But it pales in comparison to the One who gave His life just for you. No matter what comes your way, the ups and downs, the joy and sorrows this life might bring, believe this one thing: you are deeply loved.

Happy birthday, Son.

I sat in the back row of the church where my husband and I worked.  It wasn’t our normal spot. But this wasn’t a normal day. It was one I dreaded:  I was grieving. I kept my head down and silent tears splashed.  The choir sang, everyone dressed in their best. There was light-hearted joy in the room. I could sense it, but I couldn’t feel it. I tried to be invisible in my dark place, willing people to look away.

I couldn’t stand the pity. And yet I longed not to be forgotten.

It was Mother’s Day. And after three long years of infertility, I still wasn’t a mother.

That was 12 years ago and while my dream of becoming a mommy came true, I don’t ever want to forget that this day filled with flowers and homemade cards is painful for so many women.

I know many others who skip the day all-together–some because the relationship with their mothers is a raw wound others because their mom is gone and she left a space too large to fill.

Last year after my kids served me breakfast in bed, I received a phone call from our dear Maureen in Kenya. Just three weeks after losing her 7 year old nephew, her only sister died. Sucker punch. When I remember that day, and the overwhelming helplessness and grief, I am reminded again of the bittersweet.

If I’ve learned anything in the past two years working in a third world country, I’ve learned that woman are strong.

And that we are all the same.

We use spit to wipe a smudge, our hands to protect, our hearts to lead. We question, wonder, doubt and regret.  But above all, we dream. We long for a world without war, heartache, poverty, loneliness.

We may be from a different culture, speak a different language, but no matter our circumstances, hope is always enough.

To all the women and mothers everywhere, Happy Mother’s Day.

I could feel her staring across the church, walking towards me. She inched closer and grabbed my hand. She squeezed tight. I held on and looked into her eyes. She never said a word, but the tears in her eyes said it all.

Whatever place you find yourself, think of the woman on the other side.

What to say When Words Aren’t Enough:

• Give a warm, meaningful hug
• Send a card, reminding her you remember
• Ask her how she’s really doing. Wait for her to answer.
• Use your past pain to help her thru her present
• Don’t pretend she’s not hurting
• Don’t tell her everything will be ok
• Pray for the women in our world