Maybe because Mother’s Day wasn’t too long ago, I was reflection on growing up, and what that day looked like as we celebrated it. My dad gave generously of his time and money to make Mother’s Day special for my mom. We would cook, create homemade gifts, and make cards—guided (or let’s be honest… lovingly bossed around) by my older sister. Those celebrations could have gone down in the record books.
Fast forward to Mother’s Day 1993.
It was coming fast, and I was so excited—it was my very first Mother’s Day as a mom.
I had visions of being doted on, showered with love. My expectations were high… really high.
And then the day came and went… without even a glance in my direction.
I was hurt. I was mad. And my thoughts? Let’s just say they included a few very colorful adjectives describing my husband.
Year after year, Mother’s Day came and went. I never got the kind of celebration you see in the movies. My husband just didn’t have that in him and let’s face it most of the time nothing is like the movies.
But what I received instead—as my children grew—was something even better.
I would hear whispers and giggles from the kitchen while my daughter “guided” (yes… bossed) her brother around as they prepared breakfast so I could “sleep in.” Eventually, they would come in, proudly carrying a tray with breakfast in bed, a handmade card, and a little gift.
Those breakfasts evolved over time.
They started with cold cereal…
Graduated to eggs with a few crunchy shell surprises (extra protein, right?)…
And eventually turned into picture-perfect breakfasts that looked like they came straight out of a magazine.
But if I’m honest?
I miss the eggshells.
Because perfection—or something close to it—is overrated.
We can lose ourselves chasing it. We trade our joy for something we’ll never quite reach.
Those imperfect, messy, love-filled moments?
Those are the ones that stay with us.
Those are the ones that matter.
Looking back, I cherish those memories deeply—but I’ve also learned from them.
I can choose to give of myself, not for perfection and not expecting anything in return, but simply out of love.
To serve others the way Jesus did.
“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
— Mark 10:45
Mother’s Day can be hard for many.
Some no longer have their moms.
Some have relationships that are complicated or painful.
Some long to be mothers.
Whatever your story, this day doesn’t have to look one certain way.
We can choose to celebrate the women who love us, support us, and enrich our lives—in all the imperfect, beautiful ways they show up.
Because in the end…
it was never about perfection.
It was always about love.
