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BIO: SONYA DORAGH
Despite being a mum to three gorgeous boys I find Mother’s Day services in church at best somewhat cheesy, usually uncomfortable and at worst painful.
I have three beautiful boys, they are my adopted children. Each of my boys has multiple mums; one is their birth mum, at least one foster mother and me, their forever mum. The run up to Mothering Sunday, the day itself and the aftermath can be very unsettling, their powerlessness in the process of being taken into care, in being moved from one foster carer to another and in the limited communication they have with their other mothers means that Mothering Sunday as we celebrate brings up some very conflicted feelings for them and for me.
Nearly every church we’ve been part of has given flowers out asking the children to come and collect them to give them initially to their own mother and then to the other women. As I’ve watched my boys collect flowers and walk toward me it is always laced with a peculiar adoptive mother guilt, these flowers should be going to the mum who grieves that my boys were taken from her, these flowers should be going to the foster carers. Of course we celebrate the joy of adoption, but the complexities of helping my children sustain relationships with multiple mothers makes Mothering Sunday difficult.
I want to bring the shadows into the light to allow the difficulties of motherhood to be present to God with me but find Mothering Sunday services usually so focused on the light that I can’t find my truth.
It has been a growing desire to find a way to worship God whilst acknowledging the grief and pain that can surround mothering for many. My hope is that Mother’s Day Runaways is a service for those wanting to find God’s presence in the midst of their grief. My hope is that Mother’s Day Runaways will give me the opportunity to explore the complexities of my own role as mother and daughter.
This is a story about God,
God and a woman who waited,
waited 5 years then conceived me and rejoiced
but the pain of the waiting never left her.
God spoke to her, through a prophet
(He does that):
“Sing, barren woman,
you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy,
you who were never in labor;
because more are the children of the desolate woman
than of her who has a husband,”
quoted the prophet
to the woman; round, glowing and full of me, her baby.
And she knew God had been in her waiting.
This is a story about God,
God and a mother who loved,
loved so generously & unconditionally
that her children did the same.
Heavy hearted, expecting first day tears
she led her daughter to the school gate
but the strength of the mother's love
& knowledge of God with her
gave the girl enough to overflow;
she took the hand of a crying child and comforted them.
“She'll make a great mother” they said
to the woman, proud and full of hope.
And she knew God was in her parenting.
This is a story about God,
God and a mother who grieved,
grieved quietly confused for the daughter
once full of love but now remote and raging
angrily distant, so the mother asked “why?”
And, again, 5 years she waited;
5 years her for daughter's rebirth.
And more for her to speak the truth of the horror
that made her soft heart, hard and jagged.
“She's a typical teen” they said
to the mother who waited and grieved
(they didn't know the whole story)
and she clutched at glimpses of God in her grieving.
This is a story about God
God and 2 men that were broken
so broken that their sinful nature violently engulfed the girl
in episodes of unspeakable horror
that a Sunday school vision of God could not contain
but He was there
For the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost
and they were very lost, the two men
who did not hear God...maybe they have now?
This is a story about God
God and the hurt, angry girl
the girl lost in the shock and the fear and the shame
the horror, the violence, the dirt
and the disease it caused in her inner most parts
beyond her capacity to feel,
beyond her vocabulary to express
self anesthetised with street drugs
internally destroyed & alone
externally a dark silence PAUSE
eventually with the tangled anger of a toddler's tantrum
the girl cried out to God: 'Its not fair'
And, surprised, she heard him agree.
And the silence was broken.
This is a story about God
God and the man who said,
“I love you, not just your womb” when,
days after they met, his suggestions for children’s names
(Josh, Tom and Beth)
were met with tears
because the girl's diseased inner parts
were potentially broken
by the 2 men that didn't listen to God
but there was still plenty of hope
as little was known
and high expectations remained
“You'll have fun trying” they said,
to the couple who knew
God was with them in their marriage.
This is a story about God
God and the woman who hid,
hid under a bushel of disappointment
when, after trying and failing,
the image on the screen
showed tubes twisted and closed
and the young nurses looked away
and the cold instruments offered no comfort
and the woman could not hide
the pain in her heart
that her husband could see
before her words could say
I'm sorry, it is as we feared: I'm broken.
This is a story about God
God and the couple who prayed
prayed with faith and with doubt,
and were sometimes more bruised
as their faith was questioned
& others spoke promises not theirs to make
(you are already pregnant said one, she was wrong)
and over time their prayer changed
no longer a plea for pregnancy (but that would still be nice)
now desperation for grace
to find sovereign God's peace with how things are
and in the unfamiliar quiet beauty of a high healing mass
the flooding of the spirit with the words:
In the name of God who gives you life.
Receive Christ's forgiveness, his healing and his love.
May the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ
grant you the riches of his grace,
his wholeness and his peace.
This is a story about God
God and the woman who hoped
hoped in Christ alone
who did not promise pregnancy
but the greater, fuller hope of heaven
Christ who saw a whole woman,
not just a womb,
and loved her,
and comforted her,
Christ who understands her trauma
who shares her continued grief
as even in a home filled with sons,
sons that grew in her heart through adoption,
her womb's emptiness aches
but no longer the primal dark grief of her youth
but a dull ache which does not obscure
the light of Christ
who tells her she shines
and she knows God is with her in the grieving and the living.
This is a story about God,
God and me, the barren woman that many call mum.
Testimony written for Trinity College Chapel November 2011
BIO: LIZZIE LOWRIE
Lizzie is an author, speaker and church planter who lives in Liverpool with her vicar-husband Dave and their dog Betsy. She loves talking about the messiness of life and creating safe spaces for people to share their stories.
Lizzie writes for award winning blog Saltwater and Honey which is a collection of voices sharing their stories about infertility, miscarriage, childlessness and faith. These experiences can be painful and leave you feeling isolated but we want you to know that you are not alone, it’s okay to grieve and your story matters.