When Church is the Last Place You Want to Be
Yesterday was the worst day of the year for thousands of people in the U.S. And on the worst day of the year, the church is the worst place to be. Mother's Day is a cheerful parade that tramples those of us who struggle with infertility and never even notices. We infertile women aren't the only ones. The celebration rips the hearts out of parents who have suffered the death of a child, children in the foster care system, those with abortion in their past, and children and adults who have recently lost their mothers. Like usual, I stayed away from church yesterday. Christ's provision for comfort, His Church, can be the worst offender. But there are amazing opportunities for the church that would minister to the hurting on Mother's Day, Father's Day, Valentine's Day and other emotional holidays that torment a certain subset of the population.
Yesterday was the worst day of the year for thousands of people in the U.S. And on the worst day of the year, the church is the worst place to be. Mother's Day is a cheerful parade that tramples those of us who struggle with infertility and never even notices. We infertile women aren't the only ones. The celebration rips the hearts out of parents who have suffered the death of a child, children in the foster care system, those with abortion in their past, and children and adults who have recently lost their mothers. Like usual, I stayed away from church yesterday. Christ's provision for comfort, His Church, can be the worst offender. But there are amazing opportunities for the church that would minister to the hurting on Mother's Day, Father's Day, Valentine's Day and other emotional holidays that torment a certain subset of the population.
For people like me, the week before Mother's Day is a minefield. Images of moms and their loving kids flash on to TV screens, urging us to buy products as special as she is. Restaurants tout elegant buffets; stores hang signs reminding us of the approaching date. Craft projects focus on her. The Sunday comics overflow with cute and heartwarming cartoons. Facebook, Twitter, the blogosphere are dedicated to well wishes and dedications to mothers, as people and as an ideal.
DVRs and a cultivated ability to ignore marketing helps people like me get through the season. We nod pleasantly or murmur thank you's when the pharmacy cashier or the drive thru attendent wish us happy Mother's Day (even though there are no children in tow, no kids meals ordered, no car seats in the back.) But most of all, we avoid the worst places to be. We give wide berth to the greeting card section. We don't go out for a nice meal that day (hence, the drive thru). And we certainly don't darken the door of a church.
Church, where our friends and support network are, is the least safe of all. At least the mall is mercenary–Mother's day is just another profit opportunity there. But in church, we get to hear that Jesus loves mothers, that children are a blessing, that mothers are God's gift to families. We force our mouths into a smile and nod as the greeters wish a happy mother's day. They hand out roses to almost every other women there like badges of success, badges we have to refuse. Sometimes little children sing adorable songs they've been practicing, making our hearts ache with the absence. Perhaps there's even a baby dedication or two just to remind us of the babies we've hoped for but never held. Very sweet. Very painful. So on the worst day of the year, the safest place on earth is the most dangerous. We have nowhere to go to get us through the day.
But if one pastor offered one non-mother's day service, I'd be there. If one church set aside the early service to speak on the problem of pain and sovereignty and mourning, I'd get up early. If the sermon focused on God's love for me despite my unanswered prayers, I'd drive to where it was being preached. If I were guaranteed no roses, no children's choir, no "Happy Mother's Day!" wishes, I'd come. If a church had a specialized retreat, or a support group that held their own service that day, I'd be thrilled. If the body of Christ took the opportunity to care for the hurting people in their community, they could help heal their members, connect with the unchurched, share the gospel with the lost. If they were a sanctuary on this painful day, they could reach people they've never encountered.
Mother's Day is not in the Bible. God's love for the barren is. Comforting the hurting is. Caring for orphans is. Loving one another is. I think Mother's Day is a great thing and I certainly don't want to rid the church of it, but it's not the only ministry opportunity that day. Churches can compete to be one more float in the happy mother's day parade, or they could be the ones seeing the trampled, and lifting them up.
I'd love more ideas on how churches can minister to the disenfranchised of these holidays. Anybody have other suggestions?
Laura Singleton
Laura Singleton’s passion is the transformation that happens when women get access to God’s Word and God’s Word gets access to women. She was twenty-five when her life was turned upside down by an encounter with Jesus Christ. With an insatiable thirst for scripture and theology, she soon headed to Dallas Theological Seminary to learn more about Jesus, and left with a Th.M. with an emphasis in Media Arts. She, along with two friends from DTS, travel the nation filming the independent documentary Looking for God in America. She loves speaking and teaching and is the author of Insight for Living Ministry’s Meeting God in Familiar Places and hundreds of ads, which pay the bills. Her big strong hubby Paul is a former combat medic, which is handy since Laura’s almost died twice already. She loves photography, travel and her two pugs.
20 Comments
omharris
Hurting people
As a father without his kids I feel your pain. I did go to church Saturday night, and you can guess what we got. Not only painful, but sickening. Oh well, the depression passes. Hey on the brighter side. There is coming a day when we will be caught up to be with Him. In the twinkling of an eye we will all be changed. That might mean many things, but my hope is that the pains will be gone.
Laura Singleton
One day…
omharris, I am so sorry that your original pain has been increased by a church that simply doesn't understand. Hopefully, if we keep talking about it, we can spare others this added burden.
That said, you have the only perspective that can bring true comfort–the eternal one. You're absolutely correct. That's where our hope lies!
Sharifa Stevens
Laura,
The pain in this blog
Laura,
The pain in this blog is palpable. I wish I could post it on the doors of every pastor at every church in the area.
How do we celebrate…mindfully?
There's nothing like Mother's Day after a miscarriage. Or endometriosis. Every song is a dirge, every flower, a funeral arrangement.
There is still safety in numbers, though. I always sit with women or couples who are struggling with similar issues, so we can roll our eyes together. Or share tissues.
Laura Singleton
How do we celebrate?
Sharifa,
That's an important question. I didn't have the space to post all I wanted to say, including that I think Mother's Day is wonderful (for mothers). If–hopefully "when"–I'm a mom, I'm going to look forward to those toddler crafts. I'm going to get teary eyed when the children's choir sings (this time with happy tears). I'm going to accept that rose and say a big "thank you" when people wish me a happy mother's day. I don't want to take that away from anyone who's blessed with children. I just want an alternative on those painful Sundays so those of us who can't celebrate can still worship and mourn and heal within the church. because when any of us are hurting, the church should be the first place we want to go, not the last.
Thanks for your comment. Thanks even more for walking through this with me, sweet friend.
Visitor JP
How Do We Celebrate?
your post re: Mothers Day made for a painful read. I'm not a parent (not even married), but my mom was my best friend; she died a few years ago…..that first Mothers Day without her was shockingly hard. Shocking because special days don't usually mean that much to me. (so great—I get the down-side and miss most of the fun!). But your follow up question ("how do we celebrate") deserves more attention. I hope you'll follow up further! It seems that anything we celebrate (veterans, graduations, birthdays, the Fourth of July) has someone for whom the occasion has its painful, down-side. I wonder if part of coping with that is learning how to "rejoice with those who rejoice" even when I am in the midst of pain and even when that pain is on a related matter (I never married or couln't have kids or flunked out of college or ….etc. etc. etc.). I wonder if that's rubbing salt in my own (or someone else's) wound—or learning to live at a deeper level? It would be terrible as escapism—but it might be a way to open life to the Lord more. He "endured….scorning…for the joy set before him". (Heb. 12:1ff). Can we entertain all those moods in our hearts at the same time without blowing a fuse? I.e. the grit of endurance, the disgust of shame and the thrill of joyful anticipation? Joy seems to be the Christian's new-birthright "whatever the circumstances". i.e. a joy not based on material circumstances but on our unending relationship with our loving Lord. If we live long enough, and let our outward physical circumstances dictate our mood, we're all doomed to get sadder and sadder! I hope this does not sound insensitive—-I just think we need to, as an old hymn has it, "build your hopes on things eternal". Maybe we could add a verse and pray for grace to , "build your joys on things eternal".
Sandra Glahn
Amen, Sister
RESOLVE provides a sample letter for congregants to provide pastors the week before Mother's Day, asking that those who offer pastoral prayers remember the infertile, and the bereaved.
The Heights Baptist Church in Richardson, Texas, asked me two years in a row to speak at an alternative service in their chapel for infertility patients on Mother's Day.
NW Bible Church in Dallas did an interview with me one Mother's Day during the sermon time, during which we talked about a biblical theology of suffering and what people could do to help.
One year a couple in our church dedicated the altar flowers on Mother's Day to those whose children were conceived on earth but born in heaven.
I became a mother through adoption more than fifteen years ago, and I still feel the pain on M-Day out of sheer solidarity with those who hurt. Thank you for your poignant piece. I know you speak for millions–six million Americans, to be exact. I am sorry for your pain, but thrilled to see what you're doing with it.
Laura Singleton
Great Resources!
Thanks for your kind words, Sandi! And wow–I'm so glad to discover that there are churches doing this. Good for them!!! I wish I'd asked you yesterday =)
I wonder how many churches in other parts of the country are doing similar things.
Crystal Autumn
What a great idea.
What a great idea. I'm so glad you shared this. We did miss you on Sunday, and there were plenty of "us" who could have supported each other on a day like Sunday. I hope we can do better to remember and be understanding of everyone in our community in the future. Thank you for sharing this.
Laura Singleton
I had no idea…
Crystal, I am so grateful that you read the post, and even more so for what you said! Still being kind of new to our church, I don't know how many/which families are in the same boat! We went through the first 3 years of infertility at our old church, and had so many people walk beside us. I knew who'd understand when the stick said "not pregnant" (again). I knew who I could call when fertility drugs made me psycho. I knew who to ask about adoptions, who'd cry with me over a failed IUI, who'd stand by my husband and who'd be our prayer warriors. And, of course, I knew who else wouldn't be at church on mother's day or father's day or baby dedication day. I'm taking a great (convicting) takeaway from your comment: new friends equal new support, but only if we communicate!
Gabe Smith
This past sunday
I was filling in for my pastor by preaching this past Sunday. We had a one-sentence acknowlegment of "mothers and people who have mothers" and that was it. The sermon was not related to the day and none of the rest of the service was built around mothers in any way. I know more than a few ladies in our congregation appreciated how we approached it, my wife included.
Laura Singleton
Any backlash?
Hey Gabe!
Thank you so much for your comment! That was a pretty bold approach–many people must have felt so relieved; now I wonder about the other side. How it was received by mothers who haven't gone through any of these issues. Did they miss the traditions? Did they feel still feel honored for their hardwork and sacrifices? Was it a big departure from the usual way your church handles M-day?
On behalf of all the hurting families out there, thanks for being sensitive. I can imagine the collective sigh of relief when they realized that your church wasn't the worst place to be on Mother's Day.
Terri
Our church (Pantego Bible
Our church (Pantego Bible Church) does both: honor and celebrate mothers and grieve and pray with those who are hurting. Part of our Mother's Day service includes the "regular" Mother's Day stuff and then a time when one of the women in our church prays for those for whom Mother's Day is painful and difficult. Our pastor acknowledges the difficulties, and invites women to surround and pray for one another. He usually chooses a woman from our congregation to pray who has "been through it."
I always appreciated this, but never truly understood its value until last year when I was one of those mothers–waiting on a baby boy I had met and held and fallen in love with, but dealing with the very real possibility that (b/c of various circumstances beyond my control) he might never come home and might spend the rest of his life in an orphanage instead of in my arms. When the sweet lady on stage prayed for "those mothers whose children are not able to come home because of the difficulties of the adoption process," I felt safe to be who I was and to feel what I was feeling on that day. Kudos to our pastor for making this a priority every year!
Laura Singleton
Great News
Terri, I'm so sorry that you had to know what it feels like. We're the sort of sorority that mourns every new member. But what a HUGE blessing that you felt loved and understood and safe at church that day, even in the midst of the pain of an adoption in jeopardy. While people's tolerance for different activities varies, it sounds like many people can make it through the celebration because of the recognition of the flip side. What a unifying service!
Joey
Bittersweet
My wife and I have been struggling with infertility for three years. Even though we managed to conceive and bear a child (through the help of IVF), we're still infertile (since we can't get pregnant again on our own), so Mother's Day still hurts. Last Sunday our pastor dedicated our daughter on Mother's Day, and used our story as a form of comfort and solidarity with those who grieve on that day. It was the first time I had ever heard the pain Mother's Day services can bring openly talked about in church. It was refreshing.
Laura Singleton
A great step
Joey,
First, I am so sorry that you've had to go through so much. Second, bless your church for addressing this! Using your baby's dedication as a way to talk about it was doubly constructive, since secondary infertility is so often dismissed as ingraditude ("But you HAVE one child…") Good for your pastor!
Bruce Davis, Sr
Just Grateful…
I was doing some research tonite & ran across the bible.org site, & then these Blogs for the first time. THANK YOU for your clear, relevant words & thoughts Laura & everyone who is joining the conversation. Our youngest daughter has chosen to not have children till later (she's in her early 30's), & every yr I'm very aware & hurt with her, as she's expected to sit thru the usual Mothers Day Worship… because regardless of the reasons, many ladies in the Church are hurting on this day. I'm VERY Grateful that at least some parts/members of the Church -YOU & your friends above- are speaking to this so clearly, transparently & (wisely) palatably…. May the Lord watch over your words & hearts, & use them to continue to heal & teach & comfort.
Laura Singleton
Pain: God’s Calling to Minister to Others?
Hi Bruce, I'm so glad you found us over here at Bible.org, and honored that you spent some time in my corner of it!
I know it's difficult, and I'm so sorry for the pain she–and you–have endured. One unexpected outcome of this blog post and the discussion surrounding it (here and other places) is that I'm becoming more and more hopeful. It seems that a small portion of churches are responding very well to the need. As a friend on Facebook pointed out, we ARE the church, so we need to be the ones to lead the body into this rich opportunity.
How like God is that! We thought we were talking about our own pain, but in the midst, He is calling us to minister to others. I'm encouraging people to lovingly and graciously make their churches & pastors aware of the issue–and of the options. Wouldn't it be amazing if one Mother's day in the near future was a day of celebration AND ministry to the hurting? Now that's reason for a parade! =D
Sandra Glahn
Church is a Family
One person wrote: "I wonder if part of coping with that is learning how to "rejoice with those who rejoice" even when I am in the midst of pain and even when that pain is on a related matter (I never married or couldn't have kids or flunked out of college or ….etc. etc. etc.)."
Certainly. Although I would caution against viewing negatively those who confess that others' joy is a grief trigger for them. In the case of this writer, it's not that she is unable to be happy that someone else has a mother. It's just that she also wants her OWN back.
On days such as Father’s Day and Mother’s Day, the church has the opportunity to address how membership in the spiritual community means all are included in the celebration, because we are members of one another. I have church mothers and church children; I have body-of-Christ brothers and congregation-sisters. I have a son in the faith, and I did not lead him to Christ. But he "adopted" me as his mother. His is with Christ, and at the time I had no children.
When I was in Jordan visiting an orphanage last fall, I was struck by the image of a godly young priest interacting warmly with a little orphan girl and the nun charged with her care. Being part of the family of Christ means he has a daughter and a sister; the nun has a daughter and a brother; the child has a mother and a father. And not one of them is biologically connected.
I think we should emphasize such biblical relationships if we are going to bring an American-created holiday into our church observances.
I never gave birth, but yesterday in the mail (four days before Mother's Day), I received a beautiful Mother's Day card and gift from my "son" and "daughter-in-law" in the Lord. Although my husband and I went on to adopt a child who is now 18, that son and daughter honor me as if I were related to them by birth. Why? Because of Christ.
Nomad51
“Behold, I am making all things new.”
Revelations 4:4-5a (NASB)
" . . . and He will wife away every tear from thier eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away".
And He who sits on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new."
DanaB57
Finally, someone said it aloud!
Just received this blog link in an email (Monday after Mother's Day) and it's timely for me as well. I, too, have despised Mother's Day services for years, but I've never heard anyone finally ask why in the world the church participates in such a painful and perfunctory ritual. I always skip the service and wonder why we don't just keep the main thing the main thing–Jesus Christ. And so thank you, Laura Singleton, for this beautifully written blog. So many of us feel every word you wrote. And now we know we're not alone.
My son is a prodigal, so why would I enjoy being recognized.
But, in a different, sweeter slant, I sat at my mom's nursing home beside all Mother's Day Sunday. She's been failing health-wise for two years. Two weeks ago, we put her on hospice. Both Saturday and Sunday we watched her struggle to breathe, but Sunday she awakened a bit and I got to tell her Happy Mother's Day. I wouldn't trade these precious times we've had with her, and I'm so thankful that God is mercifully and gently moving her and us toward her departure.
Mother's Day can be painful for so many reasons. I pray God's grace on us all to heal and find hope in Him. And I pray churches take note