Surviving Mother’s Day when a piece of your puzzle is missing

The past two weeks here have focused on Mother’s Day projects. That has been fun.

But in the back of my mind, I’ve been pondering and praying for those who have been dreading Mother’s Day. Those who really are not up for brunch, or church or a gathering of any sort. And those who have no idea how to even muster the strength or courage to get out of the house at all. Or the bed, for that matter.

These holidays can be special and it’s always good to recognize the impact of others on our lives. And yet, there’s so much anticipation and even hype it becomes even harder for those of us who feel like a piece of our puzzle is missing.

For me, it’s my Mama. It’s our sixth Mother’s Day without her. We have always recognized the day in some way, though often not with extravagant gifts, that’s just not who we are. Some years were given more attention than others. But, not being able to see her or send a card on this one day with so much focus on Moms has been tough. The grief has eased in unexpected ways and yet there are still those raw moments that hit out of nowhere.

I don’t know your story, but I’ve brushed shoulders with enough people to know that those of us who feel like pieces of our puzzle are missing tend to outnumber those who don’t. Perhaps, like me, you’ve lost your Mama physically.

Perhaps it’s the first year that you won’t be gathering at the same table for a special dinner because of a big move. Or maybe your relationship with your Mom has never been what you had hoped or needed.

Perhaps it’s a sister that you are grieving. One who was taken too early, or is somehow unreachable.

Perhaps it’s a child. One who was gone long before their time. Or one whom for one reason or another, you’ve never even met. Or one that you have not seen or spoken to for years.

Perhaps it’s the yet to be realized hope of marriage and children. And the waiting just feels unbearable.

Deut 33:27
The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

I don’t know your story, but I do know that for many of us this day is far from perfect.

I do know that grieving is tough.

I do know that the years can somehow soften grief a bit .

I do know that the deepest of friendships can come from walking through loss with kindred souls.

I do know that somehow intentional gratitude can help lighten the weight.

I do know that I have been and will continue praying for those who are feeling a bit lost as Mother’s Day approaches.

I do know that God is my dwelling place. That His arms hold me. And that beyond the shadow of a doubt, He will never leave.

I pray that you may find peace and comfort even in the very midst of your missing puzzle pieces.

About Beth Moore

A Christ-follower, wife, mom to 4, lifestyle blogger, seamstress and seeker of daily glimpses of God's grace and redemption.

4 thoughts on “Surviving Mother’s Day when a piece of your puzzle is missing

  1. Beth this so eloquently written and speaks right to my heart and our Ryan, our missing puzzle piece on Mother’s Day. You’re such an incredible writer. I hope you’ll keep the thought of collecting all these blog posts into a book someday.

    1. It can be such a struggle this celebrating in the middle of grieving. Im praying for you and your family, Marcy. And if I write that book, you’ll be the first to know!

  2. Thanks for this piece cousin Beth! I miss your mom too as she was a big part of my life. I have fond memories of a two week summer vacation in Hennepin, Oklahoma with you guys canning pears and sewing. Then, there was your mom’s help thru those tough two years at Bradley University with a weekend refuge of food and fellowship. Lastly, the spiritual guidance I received from her as my pre-marital counselor, and then throughout married life living away from my childhood home. She understood. But, I am also missing my mom an extra measure this year. It has been 5 years since her death, but lately it seems like yesterday especially as I look into the eyes of my beautiful grandchildren she will never know. You are right, sometimes grief hits out of nowhere, but the Lord my God is my dwelling place. I sit in God’s lap and cry in grief. His arms are holding me and HE calms me and the storm.

    1. The fifth year was a tough one for me too, Kathy. Mom did love pouring into family, students and women and I never knew her to pass up an opportunity to sew. I remember several of the gifts your Mama made me for Christmas over the years – they were amazing seamstresses! I’m praying for you and I’m grateful for how God brings others who get us and how He brings healing through the tears. Love ya!

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