I especially like the end of it because it's so true.
Often the worst day of the year for an involuntarily childless woman is Mother’s Day, when going to a house of worship is going to the house of mourning. Seeing all the corsages is difficult enough, but then the mothers, young and old, are asked to stand. About the only females left sitting are children and those who wish they could have them. Surely we can find better ways to acknowledge the mothers among us and their important contributions. We have four months to plan ahead, so let’s get it right this year. By including in the bulletin, pastoral prayer and/or the sermon those for whom such days are painful, we have opportunity to minister grace to the one in six couples of childbearing age in our midst for whom the dreaded “M-day” is a time not of joy but of grief.
Following my first miscarriage, a message in the church bulletin said, “The altar flowers today are given with love and acknowledgement of all the babies of this church who were conceived on earth but born in heaven and for all who have experienced this loss.” The couple who dedicated them had six children, and theirs was the only large family I could be around for any length of time. Through their validation of our pain we caught a glimpse of the One who’s acquainted with grief. And as they crossed the aisle and stood by us during the music, with tears streaming down our faces we found new strength to bring our sacrifice of praise.