To the Hurting Mother in the Midst of a Global Pandemic

I know that your pain does not disappear as we enter into a realm of real life none of us have ever experienced. Mental illness and addiction, along with many other sufferings that prove to us the world is not as it should be do not disappear. In fact, I’m pretty sure many of these struggles are exacerbated during this strange time.

I know that you’ve cried for your child with wails that feel as strong and deep as the primal and instinctual cries of childbirth. If you haven’t, I encourage you to do it. Find a place to be alone and let the wails come. It hurts like hell, but your body needs it.

I know what it feels like for everything to have changed. For the sense of control we once had to shift to complete helplessness. For all that once was to not be.

I know what it feels like to time stamp every memory with “before” or “after” whatever tragedy knocked you off of your feet.

I know what it feels like to experience a sudden rift in your family. A rift that is not guaranteed to fill and heal.

I know what it is like to feel so crippled by your pain that you don’t see a way forward.

I also know that even in the midst of indescribable pain, there is hope and beauty. Hope unveils the beauty we so desperately need to see.

Wendell Berry said it well in his book Jayber Crow, when he wrote:

“Troubled or not, grieved or not, you have got to live. And, the facts of the case are even harder than that, for however troubled and grieved you may be, you will often find, looking back, that you were not living without enjoyment.”

I know what it is like to have big and exciting dreams only to be squashed by the weight of ebbing and flowing grief. As the pain ebbs offshore for awhile, the dreams are awakened and come alive again, only to be covered by another incoming wave.

The dreams don’t die, though! Some of them will come to fruition. With the ebbing of the wave, I am pulled out further than where I began. This is growth. It hurts. It is scary. It is unpredictable. And, it never ends.

It never ends because the God of the universe who began a good work in me will carry the good work on to completion. His aim is wholeness and I can rest knowing He will carry me there. ALL will be made right in the end.

I know the struggle of wanting to protect and honor the privacy of your child, but also feeling the need to process and share. Silence becomes the default because that is safest. It is also lonely.

I wish I could remember where I heard this concept, but what I know from my own experience and through reading and listening to people wiser than me, is that the things we create are not meant for just us. The creative process is instilled in us for the sake of the world. So, for instance, when I create an image with my camera that I view as beautiful, it doesn’t feel complete for me until I’ve shared it with the world. This is what I was made for. This is my calling. To create and share. So, as I write these words, I know they will not feel complete until I have shared with my fellow humans, who may or may not resonate with my thoughts put down on paper. My job is to create and share, and God will do the rest.

Madeline L’Engle’s writings have influenced my life so much over the past year, and she said, “The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort toward wholeness.” (From the book Walking on Water. Read it!)

If your heart is hurting today, please know that you are not alone. We need each other. If you feel alone and need help, I will do everything I can to put you in touch with someone who can help.

Reach out. You are not meant to walk this road alone.