A name I tried on over and over in my head growing up, and one I felt in my heart after God kept our first two babies.
But today, on this very first Mother's Day spent holding a son in my arms, I think I'm closer than I've ever been to understanding the ponderings of Mary and the sword piercing her heart. I've scarcely been a mother to our boy for two months, and already I'm finding the name to be both profoundly beautiful and deeply sobering.
"Mother" is a mirror for all my sin.
"Mother" forces me to stop and take stock of all the brokenness in this world and all the brokenness in me.
"Mother" makes me catch my breath with the horrors I am capable of apart from God.
"Mother" shows me my smallness, my weakness, my utter insufficiency.
"Mother" shows me the deep canyon of my need for God.
So on this Mother's Day, a new first, I pray God's mercy on me, a sinner. His mercy to forgive me and His mercy to bear me up, His love to hold me and His love to fill me.
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