Good morning friends. Today is a day full of the complexity of what it means to be human. All the joy for some. All the pain for others. And for many somewhere in between.

Joy can look like: you are proud of the relationships in your life that are nurturing and supportive. Maybe someone special will call you today or you them. Maybe you sent a card or flowers earlier in the week.

Pain can look like: the ache of someone who is no longer here or not able to be present in your life the way you hope. Maybe you've lost children or the hope of children and your life really has never been the same.

And the word we are talking about today is mom. A word that the dictionary offers us such a limited definition of: a female parent.

Author Anne Lamont in her annual Mother's Day post says this about the day:

"I hate the way the holiday makes all non-mothers, and the daughters of dead mothers, and the mothers of dead or lost children, feel the deepest kind of grief and failure. The non-mothers must sit in their churches, temples, mosques, recovery rooms and pretend to feel good about the day while they are excluded from a holiday that benefits no one but Hallmark. There is no refuge — not at the horse races, movies, malls, museums. Even the turn-off-your-cellphone announcer is going to open by saying, “Happy Mother’s Day!”

And I echo her sentiment. We so easily can sentimentalize the heck of out of day like this and forget the pain of others and how our words (even well-meaning) can be a source of others' pain.

But it doesn't mean joy isn't present too and if we feel joy we shouldn't lean into it.

Today, I'm celebrating all those who shaped me and modeled for me unconditional love. Today, I'm celebrating all the ways God has mothered me along with the way with beautiful nurturing people in my life.

So, what about you?

Wherever you are on your journey with the experience of the word mom, know that you are loved. You are seen. And if today is full of grief, the day will soon pass. Breathe in and out, rest in your belovedness, my dear readers. Don't feel the pressure by those around you to be or feel anything that isn't real today.

Most of all, let me tell you this: your Mother God loves you so.

XO

Elizabeth

Now, I know if you opened this email with the title in the subject line: you are brave.

Today is a big day. It's a day full of the complexity of what it means to be human. All the joy for some. All the pain for others. And for many somewhere in between.

Joy can look like: you are proud of the relationships in your life that are nurturing and supportive. Maybe you have a child in your life who you know will be coming over for a special meal or who is making you breakfast in bed this morning. Maybe you sent flowers to someone this weekend or received them.

Pain can look like: the ache of someone who is no longer here or not able to be present in your life the way you hope. Maybe being around the person who gave birth to you today is not safe. Maybe the children you thought you'd have or wanted to have are at the top of your thoughts but not alive.

And the word we are talking about today is mother. A word that the dictionary offers us such a limited definition of: a female parent.

If you have been in this community of Word of the Week for a while, you know that I have a complicated relationship with the word mother.

My husband and I waited for parenthood to find us for over 8 years before our daughter came into our life over 4 years ago through adoption. I am not my daughter's birth mother, but I am the mother who is raising her. As much as I see in my daughter the experiences of what it means to be raised in our home, I also see her birth parents too. I see the gifts they gave her in bringing her into this world.

I am also a woman who has an estranged relationship with my own biological mother. A sheer fact that many in a similar situation would never speak of or hide. But I have come to a point where it just is. I do not want to be ashamed. It is kindness to my soul as painful as the boundaries are for others. It is along the lines of Mary Oliver's exhortation of being "determined to save the only life you can save." Our estrangement is about my saving my life.

I share this with you as I weave my own story into the complications of what it means to be born, be raised, live and parent others no matter if it comes with biological ties or not.

Today, I'm thinking about my daughter's first mom. Today, I'm thinking about my first mom too. And even as complicated as those two relationships are-- I give thanks for them too.

I also give thanks to all the women who have raised me, shaped me and modeled for me unconditional love. I stand today on their encouragement, wisdom and reminders that I am on the best path for me.

So, what about you? I don't know where your relationship is today with the word mother. But I do know this: wherever you are, wherever your mother is, know that you are loved. And in case of really sucky situations, Mother's Day is just one day. Soon it will be over.

So breathe in and out, rest in your belovedness my dear readers. Don't feel the pressure by those around you to be or feel anything that isn't real today. Your Mother God loves you so.

XO

Elizabeth

We can easily spend our days living in labels. There are the labels others give us.

Overweight. Social Butterfly. Photogenic. 

Labels we place on ourselves.

Determined. Hard working. A Failure. 

Labels that have everything to do with what we believe about our worthlessness.

C student. Second string. Not partner material. 

Meet someone new at a party and you'll be asked (especially if you live in my area) is "What do you do?" And what follows is an exchange of labels.

I'm a doctor. . .

I'm a runner . . .

I'm a stay at home dad . ..

Or whatever the case may be.

I've often walked away from conversations like this either feeling very accomplished or defeated depending on who is standing on the other side. I realize such emotions have everything to do with my love of labels. Being known as a particular kind of person who does particular kind of things-- it all goes back to labels.

In my book Birthed, I write about my struggle with the label mother. After years and years of open-minded efforts, I could not get what I wanted. It tortured me EVERY DAY. In the grocery store line, the dry cleaners, or a small group meeting when asked about my children I'd always say:

"No, I'm not a mother."

It felt so unfair after all that I was putting my body through to reach my goal. . . . What did I do to make God so mad at me?

But as I dealt with the pain and wise teachers showed up to lead me to greener pastures, I began taking on this loaded label. I was a mother. I was not excluded. God did not hate me. The only difference between me and the moms clubs: I was not on a non-traditional path.

For, who says that motherhood has to look a certain way?

Who says that the "real" mothers are only those who regularly change diapers or pack school lunches or sign school permission slips?

Who says that you can't nurture hearts and have a full home of family without birth certificates to go along with it?

Motherhood, in my case, just had to be re-packaged.

Now, when people hear that we have a child with our legal last name, most say: “You must be so happy! You’re finally a parent.” But I cringe. For this not how I feel about my journey of parenthood at all.

While I love our daughter and am so glad she's a part of our home, I became a mother long before her birth.

I was a mother to those who embryos that lived in me but did not make it to full-term.

I am a mother to those who find themselves in my congregations or friendship circles— adults and children a like.

And I mother those who I've met in orphanages around the world especially as our family journey intersected with the organization Feed the Children (while my husband was the CEO). Now, it’s a work I continue through the foundation, Our Courageous Kids and the unofficially adopted children that are a part of our lives.  (And I hope more to come!). 

So when my daughter came I knew she was not "an answer" but the addition to a full life. It's how we parent her now, looking forward to introducing her to many siblings from all over the world.

My soul care word of the day is this: if there's a label you're longing to be used about you, take it on. 

Who says you have to be a size 2 to be beautiful? Or a pro-golfer to be a champion? Or an a published author, songwriter or playwright to be creative?

Re-define your longings. Live them out. Be willing for them to take a path you might not have expected.

Who really needs to be normal after all? It's so boring.