In the evening we bend and four sets of knees imprint the carpet. And we talk to Him (well, Libby sometimes whispers, sometimes sings), and then we all recite the familiar words together, “Our Father, Who art in Heaven …”
And as the moonlight warms the room with its haze, I look to see three sets of white feet lined up in a row next to mine, and I ache and pray for her sweet brown set to join us. “Thy will be done…” And there is a day fast approaching on the calendar. A day to celebrate for many, a day of remembering what was lost or what was never had for so many others. And as I rejoice over what I have and ache over what I don’t (and what she doesn't), I know that there are so many hurting, grieving, weary people dreading the day that feels like salt in their wound. I’ve been thinking about them as I bend down. This weekend, when the moon goes dark and then becomes just the tiniest sliver of light, I’m bending down. I’m praying for the hurting. The forgotten. The weary. The exhausted. The broken. The angry. The bruised. I’m bending down on their behalf. I'm bending down for you: The Mama who never got to bring her child home, whose crib remains empty and rocker remains still. For the young woman who tries to be happy for all her friends and their swelling bellies and Facebook pictures. And for the woman who has birthed one child or two and is struggling with the mystery and silence of secondary infertility. For the older woman who knits the baby blanket — soft and warm — she never needed for her own. The graying woman in front of me in the checkout line who doesn’t hear from her children, doesn’t know who will take care of her when life gets harder. For the mother whose child has chosen a path of bad choices and left her behind in a sea of guilt and questions. I’m bending down for you. The mom who knows there will be one less Mother’s Day card this year. For the mother whose grief is no longer new but still just as real, who feels stuck while everyone else has moved on. For the mom who would give anything to hear her child’s voice yelling through the halls and see smudgy fingerprints on walls again. For the woman who sits in the pew on Sunday and wonders if she can bear the weight of the empty space beside her. I’m bending down for you. The mommy who stays steady by the hospital bed and watches her child hurt and feels helpless and wonders if things will ever feel normal again. The mom struggling with a nest that is empty while only feathers remain, trying to remember who she was and what she did before she had kids. I’m bending down for you. The exhausted new mother who’s struggling, wondering if she will ever sleep again, stop crying in the shower, figure out this nursing thing, feel attached to this little person she doesn’t know how to make happy, be brave enough to tell others that she isn’t enjoying motherhood yet. The mother who is weary in the journey wondering if the toddler tantrums will ever stop, the teenage moodiness will be survived. I'm bending down for you. The adopting mom who wonders if the wait and paperwork and ache will ever end. The mommy with her adopted child newly home wondering if he will ever love her, ever trust her, recover from his scars. The foster mom who just said bye to one more child, wondering how much time she has to heal before she does it again. The mom who made the hardest choice to give her baby up and thinks about him everyday. I’m bending down for you. The single woman who longs for a child of her own. The woman who aches for her own mom, wishing she were still here, wishing she could still talk to her. The woman whose mom was never around, never available, never there for her. I’m bending down for you. And for the man whose hurt is just as real but is often forgotten. The father who is tucking his kids in tight, mourning the woman that is no longer there to tuck them in too. The man who is spending his first mother's day without a card to send. The man who wishes he had a mother in his life to celebrate. I'm bending down for you too. For all the hurting people in my life, forgive me when I’ve failed to encourage, failed to remember, failed to be there, failed to pour out all the gifts of encouragement and time and love that others have used to fill me up. I am remembering you this weekend. I’m praying that I will learn to show His love by sharing mine. I’m praying for peace when it seems far away. I’m praying for healing when it seems impossible. I’m praying for encouragement when it seems unlikely. I’m praying for joy when it seems unattainable. I’m praying for His power, His glory, His peace, and His strength to fill all the wounds and gaps and empty places that only He can. I’m reminding myself and I’m reminding you: We have a Savior Who understands pain. We have a Savior Who longs to comfort us and hold us. We have a Savior Who walks with us and before us at the same time. We have a Savior Who bent down low to wash feet, mix mud into healing balm, to pick up the cross. And Who also stood tall and crafted the moon from His very command, determined that some nights it would disappear, and that the dark would come. And Who then makes the light return again. I’m praying for the hurting this Mother’s Day weekend.
17 Comments
Susie
5/10/2013 10:49:56 am
Beautifully written. Thank you for sharing your prayers.
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Judy Bowles
5/10/2013 01:43:13 pm
Beth...sweet one....this says it all. Thanks. You must write a book. You are so gifted. Prayers continue for Aida to come home.
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Beth Edfeldt
5/11/2013 02:25:41 am
Thank you Mrs. Judy! I think the idea of a book overwhelms me...maybe one day :). Thanks so much for your prayers- means so much to know that people are praying.
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Doyla Motley
5/10/2013 04:57:35 pm
Beth, what a beautiful prayer. Praying for you this Mother's Day as you wait to bring your sweet baby Aida home. What a blessed family you are and what a blessed little girl Aida will be to join your family.
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Beth Edfeldt
5/11/2013 02:26:30 am
Thank you, Doyla! We are so grateful for the prayers... they are needed and felt. Miss you!
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Cheryl Luckie
5/10/2013 11:16:18 pm
Beth...I'm your parents' neighbor. Just wanted to tell you that this is one of the most beautiful pieces I've ever read. I am one of those mothers you are praying for. We lost our 9-year old daughter in 1986. Mother's Day has always been difficult as there is a mixture of emotions. So happy for our son that we are so very proud of...and now 2 beautiful grandchildren that bring us joy each and every day. But also a heart-breaking day as I remember the child who is not here to hug my neck and tell me Happy Mother's Day. Thank you for praying for me and for all the other mothers and would-be mothers who have heavy hearts on a day when only joy should be felt. I am praying for you too...also your family and for the child that you are longing for.
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Beth Edfeldt
5/11/2013 02:30:34 am
My mom has shared a little bit with me about your story. I am so honored to pray for you, so humbled and grateful that He gives me words that mean something to people. Thank you also so much for the prayers... it means a great deal!
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Ted Kandler
5/10/2013 11:58:12 pm
Awesome prayer that should be shared with all mothers. Thanks for sharing your heart. You were always concerned for others as you grew up.
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5/11/2013 01:07:46 am
Beth how precious you are!!! Happy Mothers Day and yes I will bend down with you.
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Camille W. Severt
5/11/2013 04:36:28 am
I'm bending down for you now.
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Richelle
5/11/2013 01:28:56 pm
Your piece took my breathe away. God bless you for your compassion and your grace
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Hazel Bradfield
5/12/2013 01:10:15 am
That is an awesome prayer
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JoAnn Malaise
5/8/2014 06:20:43 am
I shouldn't have read this at work--I was crying as someone came in. Hard to control my emotions as I read this--your thoughts are so moving and beautifully expressed.
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Nancy
5/4/2016 08:53:58 am
Beth, what a lovely, poignant, compassionate prayer you've written. I've heard several people say how difficult Mother's Day (or Father's Day) is for them. It is a good time for us to remember in prayer the people you've named. You write beautifully.
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Gina Daugherty
5/4/2016 12:10:52 pm
BEAUTIFUL!
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Elaine
5/13/2017 07:45:01 am
I can't add more than the comments above already said , this poem touched me greatly , I am sharing. Thank you for writing it .
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AuthorWe are a family of five (Ben, Beth, Tucker, Libby, and Zane). We started this blog during our 7 year journey to bring home a child through adoption. This is our story of how God is faithful in the good, the bad, and all the in between. Archives
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