Mother’s Day — Then and Now

May 9, 2025 — Laura House

When I was in elementary school, Mother’s Day was celebrated at our church in a special way. During Sunday School, we planted petunias in styrofoam cups to give to all of the ladies as they exited the church. Of course, the recipients acted like they had received a Nobel prize, and we were thrilled to be the givers of that valuable prize.

When I became a mother, the day took on a whole new level of meaning. Throughout the years, I looked forward to the sweet handmade cards, trinkets bought at the dollar store, watercolor masterpieces and other assorted crafts. As the kids got older, the notes and cards with messages of gratitude were unparalleled in value. Mother’s Day was more fulfilling than my birthday or most other holidays. I loved being a mom and having the privilege of training up the children God had entrusted to me. 

I’m sure that every church we attended through the years was full of mothers who had children in Heaven, women who longed to be mothers, and those who had recently said goodbye to their own mothers. I didn’t really recognize them though, unless something was said publicly, then I felt compassion toward them. I was busy relishing my own role of motherhood and the amazing future of my own children.

Then Nathan died. 

Time stopped. 

When Mother’s Day came, the day was a painful reminder of what I had lost. I longed to hold him in a hug, see his smile, make his favorite meal, listen to his brainy explanations of the new computer code he had finished, see him playing Risk with Ryan and Megan or hearing them watching a funny episode of something and exploding with laughter, bring him warm peach cobbler and ice cream while he studied on the porch swing, and help him sticker products for his electronics business. The list went on and on. I missed everything. 

Mother’s Day was painful in those early years of loss. I knew that Nathan was with Jesus, where I longed to be. I wasn’t grieving for him, but I was mourning deeply for myself and all of our family. When mothers stood up in church on Mother’s Day, they were honoring their living children, filled with pride and expectation for the future. I had two children still living, and felt that for them, but the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was also there – missing Nathan. 

In this post, I want to communicate three things that I hope might be helpful. The first two are for grieving mothers, and the third is directed to their friends.

If you are a grieving mom anticipating Mother’s Day, I want to encourage you with a few thoughts. First and foremost, bring your pain and sorrow to Jesus. He hears you, loves you, and is holding you. If you are not familiar with the term “lament”, I encourage you to watch the two messages on the OHAH YouTube Channel here. They could be life-changing for you, as you learn to cry out to the Lord.

Plan for the day and do what you need to do for yourself. Your church family might be exactly who you want to be with, and that is wonderful. But for some, doing what they need to do might mean slipping into church late and slipping out early. For others, it might mean watching church from home. Be prepared for the possibility of unexpected emotions, and give yourself and others a large measure of grace. I remember “intentionally grieving” at home, all alone, before I went to church. It helped release the pent up emotion I was feeling, before I was in a room with a lot of people. Remembering Nathan in this way was helpful, and I reminded myself that I would see him again. Our life on earth is a blip on the radar — our real life of eternity is ahead. He just got there first.

If you have traditions surrounding Mother’s Day, those might bring comfort and you want to continue to do them. But if the thought of doing the same things is too painful, then consider a new tradition. Make a plan together with your family. Some families decide to go on an outing that the child would’ve loved, others have a special meal and make a craft or have a picture and lighted candle to remember them. A simple Google search will give you a host of possibilities, if you are looking for new traditions.

The second truth that I want to express is the encouragement that I continuously give to grieving moms. As I’ve said so often, I’m thankful for the bereaved parents who spoke this truth to me early on. 

Here it is. You will not always experience the level of pain that you feel right now. It’s true. 

If you are in the early years, you may be often overwhelmed by your grief and feel that it will never change. The deep, hollow, sick feeling in the pit of your stomach may happen often. But it will change. Continue to trust Jesus. He is holding you through this painful time. 

And to those who have not lost a child? You have the most amazing opportunity to minister to grieving moms this weekend. Give them a card, send a text or email, send flowers, give them a hug, tell them you are praying for them — then pray. If you have a memory or picture of the child, pass that along. It will be gold to them. Speak their child’s name. Acknowledge that they are missing that child. You will be a bright spot in the difficult journey; a comfort to a hurting heart. When you are willing to step into another’s grief, even though it’s hard, you are loving them as Jesus commanded us to do. 

I’ve been asked how long a grieving mother grieves, and the answer is, forever. The deep mourning ends, but there will always be times of grief — moments of deeply missing the precious child who has gone on ahead. As the years go by, a friend who remembers is a treasure beyond measure. 

There are so many comforting passages of scripture, but for many grieving people,  Psalm 23 is a favorite. It’s an eloquent reminder of God’s unfailing love, constant comfort, and of the promise of eternity with Him.

Psalm 23 

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness, For His name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil; For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord Forever.