Mother's Day is Sunday. Over the years, the celebration has taken on different looks. As a youngster at Boughton Baptist Church, Prescott, AR, those of us with living mothers wore red carnations. Those whose mothers were deceased wore white carnations. In worship,we sang, "If I Could Hear My Mother Pray Again." Speeches were made by children and youth expressing gratitude to their mothers. Acknowledgment and gifts were awared to the youngest mother, the oldest mother, and the mother with the most children. We celebrated motherhood.

In later years, however, Mother's Day was for Brenda and me one of the saddest days of the year. It forced us to face squarely our perdicament of childlessness. That hurt is unbelievable to those who have never been there, but to us (and to thousands of other couples across the country) it defined our very existence. Our first thirteen years of marriage were without children. After several years of infertility treatment, one miscarriage midway through a pregnancy, and two failed adoption attempts, we were at wit's end. You can see why our three children, Chris, Ashley, and Nick, mean so very much to us today. We celebrate Mother's Day, and all the good things about family, but are always mindful of others who we sense are suffering, as we were, the hurt that day brings.

Mothers and fathers, let's rejoice that God has given us the opportunity to share in the ongoing work of creation--and to nurture the life God has brought to us as gift!

Talk later. LM