Matt would tell you, my people could tell you. I am no settler, not a good enougher, always walking into every situation with massive expectations, and most often walking out disappointed.
If I have a week with you, a day with you, a conversation with you, I want it to just be perfect...full of depth and joy and good conversation, sprinkled with laughter and tears and the real stuff, the messy stuff, the good stuff.
If there is a birthday party, I want the person to feel and know the whole spectrum of how they are loved and appreciated, from the gift to the cake to the prayer to the meal to the conversation.
If there is an end of the year celebration, I want everyone to reflect and cherish, to laugh about good memories and to cry together over the pain, I want to encourage each one in Christ to the depths of who they are, sending everyone out inspired and at peace and resolved. The "everybody hug everybody fest" on the last day? That was a total Stacey moment.
I don't care if all the physical details are perfect or if everything tastes or looks perfect. I don't care how perfect the surface is. I care that hearts were shared and revealed and loved and touched and reached.
You can imagine how often the day is done, and I'm saying to Matt, to myself, to my Father, "I wish that had gone better."
And Matt says, "Stace, that went GREAT. What are you talking about?" And I'm left thinking, "Yeah, but...I just had hoped...I mean, I wanted it to be more...MORE."
So imagine all the nonsense I have riding on a day like Mother's Day.
I'm pretty sure I get this magnificent expectation from my mom, she who was up all night icing leaf cookies for the first day of fall and filling M&M bags with Skittles for April Fool's Day, she who scarified ridiculously for even small meaningful things that few others care about, she who taught me to pay attention to all the clues of how people are feeling and hurting and to reach deep and wide to touch them.
We could have made Mother's Day something crazy meaningful, mom and Lisa and I, if she were here, if she had been here long enough for me to realize how crazy meaningful she was.
So with no mama to shape it for, and the God-given mothers in my life all off with their actual children, as they should be, we just have my Mother's Day, and try as I might, it's inevitable that own my precious family is going to let me down.
I am amazed and thankful every single day for the miracles He has given me in these three precious little girls. They make being a mother SO incredibly deep and sweet.
But it would be simply impossible for three little girls and a mere mortal man to somehow wrap up for me the all the feelings I want to feel on Mother's Day : loved and appreciated and pampered and noticed and cherished and noted and cared for and...
Mother's Day usually means I am bawling in the dishwater, missing my mom and hurting that there are still dishes, working with all I am to count my many blessing and to battle wanting to feel the love I somehow feel I surely deserve this one day a year.
And so when my sis sent me this a few days ago and I've read it 10 times sense, this Mother's Day is feeling awfully sweet and free.
Mother or not, with a mother or not, read this....and be free, free to expect nothing but Jesus from ourselves, free to lay all our expectations on expecting Jesus, free to die to all we think we are entitled to, and to lay down our lives, as He did, instead...this Mother's Day, and always.