white roses

Today is Mother's Day. On this weekend, our church shows love to the congregation by offering white roses to those who find Mother's Day to be painful for one reason or another. Maybe because of infertility, maybe because a mother has died, maybe because a child has been lost. After the service, it seemed every other person was carrying a white rose. I approached a new friend who is seventy-something. "Happy Mother's Day," I said and noticing her white rose, "I also see that there is sadness this day, too." She told me that she had full-term twin daughters who lived only one day (forty years ago, or so). Our eyes reddened and filled with tears. "I still cry," she said.

I had another friend say, "At my old church, they handed out flowers to all the moms. If I had to come this morning to see all the ones with babies on their hips and flowers in their hands, I couldn't handle it." (Oh, Praise God we don't just honor the ones who have children at our church!)

Oh, dear ones. Today, I am overwhelmed with the longing hearts of my friends. So many of you have lost children that you loved so well. Some of you are waiting, waiting, waiting for adoptions. Some of you are waiting, waiting, waiting for a pregnancy. Some of you are grieving, grieving, grieving your missing children. And, some of you are doing all three. I love you today especially.