Mother's Day ... ugh!

So I'm just going to come out and say it...
I DREAD Mother's Day!
I dread it so much that yesterday, after I went shopping in preparation for the event, I landed myself right in bed with a
MIGRAINE
(not a common occurrence for me)

I can't really pinpoint why I feel the way I do but I have a pretty good idea of what contributes to the all around attitude of DREAD...

Accomplice #1 ... CHURCH
That dang June Cleaver! I thought she was dead but alas, the speaker on Sunday will assure me that she is not. I'll hear that she (June Cleaver) was actually the mother of said speaker, "The Perfect Mother". You know her... the one who serves a hot breakfast every morning, provides fun hikes on summer days and always says the right thing at the right time. She is so WISE and PERFECT. I can't stand June Cleaver!

And there I'll sit. The mother who serves unhealthy pop tarts each morning, has never hiked a single trail in the 17 years I've been a mother and am so far from perfect ... I can't even go there.


Accomplice #2 ... My MOTHERS.
Oh, how I love them both (mine and Jeff's). They each deserve a whole day where they can enjoy the children they've raised. However, it's impossible! They must share the day with one another and there simply isn't enough time. If I made the rules there would be one day dedicated to each ... they deserve it. No, let's say 3 days. I deserve it too. Right?


Accomplice #3 ... hummm...
Perhaps it's the true problem. These 2 little hands and 2 little boys look at me from my bed every day. However, the reality of them has slowly passed by right before my eyes and I miss them.
They are now grown and gone are the days of homemade cards and handfuls of wild flowers.

So, back to the reality of yesterday.

As I lay there, I believe the Lord looked down sympathetically
on my pathetic self.
Me... the one with the rice pack over my eye
(wishing I could literally pull the thing out of my head)...
Whimpering at the thought of any light sneaking under my door...
Sick to my stomach, yet starving to death...
BEGGING FOR MERCY!

He heard me, as he always does...
He sent help...
Not just the mercy I'd asked for...
But the kind far better...

TENDER MERCY

The kind to take away the DREAD.

A handful of wild flowers. Lovingly and quietly set beside my bed. They were in a glass from the kitchen. Just like days of old.
I found out this morning that a 13 year old boy left them there.
My 13 year old boy.


A handmade Mother's Day card was handed to me so it wouldn't get lost before Sunday. The note inside was short but perfect. Just like days of old.
A 17 year old boy handed it to me before he turned in for the night.
My 17 year old boy.

A man returned from his business trip and told me I didn't have to go to church on Sunday... Oh, I'm just kidding! (Can you tell I'm smiling now?) But he did tell me he would cover my Sunday School lesson.
My (over) 40 year old boy.

Somehow I'm all better now.
No headache... No Dread.
Just thankful for MERCY.
It usually shows up when we least expect it
yet when we need it the most.