This particular Mother’s Day is perfect. For the first time in two decades, it doesn’t break my heart. Twenty years ago, Mother’s Day was far from perfect. Fifteen years ago, it was difficult. Ten years ago—you get the idea…
This morning, as I considered the pros and cons of leaving a warm bed, my daughter slid a handmade card under the door. Coffee appeared like magic, as did a breakfast I didn’t prepare. Loving hands wrapped me in a cozy robe and ushered me toward the front door.
What a difference a decade—or two—can make.
Now, I sit on our padded porch swing, early afternoon sunshine warming my face. My snoozing German Shepherd snuggles closer. Hummingbirds zip around me, bees bumble by and the baby birds in our basketball goal scream for lunch. Sorry, Mama Bird. You’re still on duty.
Sometime in my twenties, Mother’s Day morphed into a heartbreaking, heart-aching day. Each year, as children failed to arrive, the pain compounded.
I helped arrange baby showers for other women. Friends announced pending adoptions and showed off baby bumps.
Dreams of adoption dissipated like fog in the dawn as every promising path ended. Lupus eliminated the possibility of biological children.
Well-meaning friends proclaimed, “When God closes a door, He opens a window.” But God did not close doors. Not for me. He slammed every trapdoor, window, and skylight right on my fingers. For years.
Supportive, naive friends sent Mother’s Day cards. “It takes a village” sentiments convinced me no one understood.
I appreciated their intent. Most of the time, playing “auntie” or “extra mom” to my friends’ children filled the empty places in my heart. But as a decade passed, those caverns expanded. Convinced my children already waited, I scoured adoption sites.
Mother’s Day Healing
And on another Mother’s Day ten years ago, after a decade of searching, I found no peace.
Why did Mother’s Day have to be on Sunday? I’d never wanted to flee a church service so much in my life.
Everywhere I turned, mothers rejoiced over young darlings. Blurry visions of my own imagined children danced just beyond my reach. Like a modern-day Hannah, I couldn’t understand why God ignored my pleas.
Small girls flounced through the sanctuary handing carnations to the blessed women. I slipped out into the hall and checked the restroom. No empty stalls. Couldn’t hide there.
“Happy Mother’s Day.” A chirpy voice rang out behind me.
I headed for a classroom.
“Hey. I’m talkin’ to you.”
I turned.
A tiny boy rocketed toward me. “Did you hear me? Happy Mother’s Day.”
He launched. I caught him mid-leap, and he wrapped his arms around my neck. Tears filled my eyes. Doggone allergies. He squeezed me tight, grinned, and skipped off.
In a single moment, that kid saved my Mother’s Day.
He was like a message from God. “I see you. You’re not alone. You’re making a difference. Don’t despair.”
The pain didn’t disappear. My day didn’t fill with rainbows. But God reminded me that He could see something I couldn’t: the end result. My job was to be faithful where He placed me.
A month later, we met the kids who would become our kids.
My decade of pain had purpose. If I had birthed biological children or had managed to wriggle through one of those slamming skylights, our home wouldn’t have been available for the kids who needed us.
The kids we adopted.
A second decade separated the painful Mother’s Day from my Porch Swing Mother’s Day. Even years after the kids arrived, Mother’s Day remained difficult. We couldn’t conceive the trauma we embraced the day we welcomed those two hurting kiddos into our home.
Mother’s Day Redemption
Twenty years of pain and love built this beautiful Mother’s Day.
My girl just handed me a plate. “Hungry? Here. What are you writing? This is way better than those early Mother’s Days with us, right?” She sauntered away, laughing.
The story doesn’t always end on a porch swing, nor with a teenager who delivers grilled cheese sandwiches and jokes about the horrors of trauma. Maybe you’re still waiting for a porch swing. Also, you might be in the why-is-this-stupid-door-still-stuck-shut stage. Or the can-I-at-least-get-a-hint-things-will-get-better stage. Maybe you believe your opportunities have already dissolved.
God sees you. He hasn’t forgotten you. You’re not alone. You’re making a difference now.
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Hard as this is to consider, maybe our future doesn’t include the things we desire.
Our future might be filled with difficulties we can’t imagine. But if we believe God is good, we have to believe that His plan for us is better than a plan we create for ourselves.
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Mother’s Day Focus
In John 10:10, Jesus says He came to give us life. Abundant life. This Mother’s Day defines abundant. And looking back over two decades, I see abundant life shining through the pain. Sometimes God’s idea of abundance is different from ours, but His ideas are always better.
Maybe the outcome won’t include a porch swing. Or maybe it will. Maybe heartbreak will continue for another decade. Or maybe it won’t. Regardless of God’s plan, we believe His promise of abundant life.
Many women who don’t have children spend mostly unnoticed hours caring for others. Let’s pay attention. Search out those ladies. Give a hug, squeeze a hand, send a card.
Has someone dedicated time to your children? Make sure THEY thank her.
If you are that lovely woman who wishes for children and endures Mother’s Day, I understand the depth of your pain, and my heart is with you. Thank you for everything you do. God sees you. He hears you. You’re not alone. Not ever.
Becky is the new owner of the highly esteemed Write to Publish Conference held at Wheaton College in Wheaton, IL. SCROLL for details, more about Becky, and some cool history below. AND $50 off this year's conference with coupon code Colby2025.
*This article was originally published on Focus on the Family.
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READ MY ARTICLES TO BLESS MOMS HERE.
*SCROLL for more content and Poem “For the Prodigal’s Mom”
$50 off FULL registration for the 2025
Write to Publish Conference
with coupon code:
Colby2025
Held on the campus of the historic Wheaton College in Wheaton, Illinois, Write to Publish Conference has guided writers to find clarity for their calling and their path to publication since 1971.
Offerings include inspiring keynotes, high-caliber education via more than 30 workshops and continuing classes from seasoned industry pros, and one-on-one meetings with agents, editors, and publishers. Genre groups, morning devotions, time to write and reflect and connect with a supportive community of fellow writers add to the opportunities for robust education, encouragement, and empowerment.
Though Wheaton College isn't affiliated with the WTP conference, attendees are welcome to wander the walkways surrounded by lush landscape and beautiful buildings and immerse themselves in the rich history that abounds on campus. The Wade Center features works and artifacts from J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Dorothy Sayers, and George MacDonald. Tolkein’s desk, C. S. Lewis’ family wardrobe featured in his Chronicles of Narnia books, original hand-drawn maps, writings, and more are among the collected treasures from the featured authors.
Wheaton's alumni include Billy Graham, Jim Elliot, and Todd Beamer. Blanchard Hall was a stop on the Underground Railroad and houses history of this including a permanent exhibit showcasing the history of African American worship. Set aside some time to visit the Billy Graham Museum, sure to enlighten and recharge your soul.
$50 off FULL registration
for the 2025 Write to Publish Conference with coupon code:
Colby2025
CLICK HERE TO REGISTER
Becky Antkowiak is an adoptive mom, author, editor, enthusiastic Compassion International advocate (hence her blue hair), and incredibly happy wife. Becky (aka Becky Blue) is the new owner and CEO (Chief Encouragement Officer) of the Write to Publish Conference, and Christian Writers Institute. She’s the founder of the 540 Writers Community, which exists to provide free, accessible, stellar education for writers. Learn more at BeckyAntkowiak.com.
If you are that lovely woman who wishes for children and endures #MothersDay, I understand the depth of your pain, and my heart is with you…God sees you. He hears you. You’re not alone. Not ever.—Becky Antkowiak
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For the Prodigal's Mom
Mama,
Don’t you know Jesus loves your children
Even more than you?
Pound the gates of Heaven, Mama
Pray without ceasing
Know the God of Heaven inclines to your cry
He shares your passion for restoration of the prodigal child
So, go ahead and cry Mama
But make every tear a prayer
An offering of hope and heart
Your prayers are the rain
On the soil of your prodigal’s heart
Your prayers are the rain
On the soil of your prodigal’s heart
Your prayers are the rain
On the soil of your prodigal’s heart…
—Rachael M. Colby
TattooItOnYourHeart.com
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- A Time to Disobey
“God, please don’t take Grandma from me yet,” I frequently prayed. Though I’d moved to the USA and Grandma remained in Jamaica, the world felt a little less scary and lonely because she was in it. “But when you take her home, … Continue reading “A Time to Disobey” - Grit & Grace: Michael Duncan ~ Author, Pastor, Master of the One-Line Sermon Returns
Feast on a banquet of truth from one who greets life’s challenges with grit & grace. Michael Duncan: author, pastor, master of the one-line sermon returns as my guest interviewee. Undeterred by threats, he shares wit, wisdom, and some wild stories including … Continue reading “Grit & Grace: Michael Duncan ~ Author, Pastor, Master of the One-Line Sermon Returns”
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Tattoo It On Your Heart 
Thanks so much for sharing Becky’s story here, Rachael. I always love your encouraging heart, Becky, and how you lift others up. So glad to hear how God has blessed you and your family!
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Honored to do so, Melissa. Becky Antkowiak is a brave and big-hearted leader, a gifted encourager and writer with much wisdom and inspiration to share. Glad it blessed you.
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Wonderful redemptive story, Rachael! Hope you had a blessed Mother’s Day! XO Kelly Z. Sent from my iPhone
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Likewise, Kelly. Becky is an amazing writer with a powerful story. So glad she blessed us by sharing it here.
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Thanks for sharing. Happy Mother’s Day to you. Lorilyn roberts. Sent from my iPhone
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Hope you had a wonderful mother’s Day, Lorilynn. So good to hear from you. We need to catch up. Honored to share Becky Antkowiak’s powerful article on my site so it could bless my readers.
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