Yesterday, I was sitting with my little niece on my lap and she said "It's Mother's Day, Aunt Lindsay! Are you a mom?" And I said no, starting to feel a little sorry for myself. Then she followed it up with, "If you're not a mom, are you a honey?" I have no idea what that means, but I found it funny and it kept my mind off the train it was going down when she asked the initial question.
I'm not a mom, in the strictest sense of the word, and I want to be, so days like Mother's Day are hard. Not sit-by-myself-in-a-dark-room hard, but difficult nonetheless.
Before I create a rabbit trail, I just want to say that the reason why I'm writing this post is because I wanted to tell you how I was encouraged on Mother's Day.
My phone buzzed several times during the day, receiving messages from various people who just texted to say that they were thinking of me. I wasn't expecting anything like that, and was actually doing okay emotionally, but each and every text was so meaningful. Friends wished me a Happy Mother's Day, told me they were praying for me, and that I was on their mind. I didn't need it, but I soaked it up.
God's blessed us with amazing friends and family in all the places we've lived and I'm incredibly grateful for all the sweet people who went out of their way to just send a simple message. It really meant the world.
Dear friends who have prayed for us and loved us in this long season of waiting and wondering - thank you.
Thank you for your tears, your hugs, your emails, your Facebook messages, your brownies and your cards. I am so thankful for you, and I can't really express how much your love means to me. It's been quiet, it hasn't been every day, but every once in awhile, like yesterday, I'm reminded that I haven't been forgotten. And that means so much.
It's strange to be the "friend-without-kids" and I find myself often unsteady with where I am in life, having deep inner struggles that I can't verbalize. It's been weird, but thank you for being there.
I am hopeful that this season will not last forever, but even if it does, I want to remember the goodness in what often seems so dark and painful. I want to remember that there were people whose tiniest text encouraged me. I want to remember that people prayed with me and for me. I want to look back on this time and not see it as a pit of despair but as a time where God was working, blessing, loving. I know He is, and I see it in you guys. Your actions might seem very insignificant to you, but thank you for making them anyway, because they are meaningful and full of the gospel and encourage me in the Lord. You encourage me to press on to know the Lord and to be hopeful and prayerful and faithful as I wait.