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Every journey to and through motherhood looks different, but there’s often one thing we all have to do at some point: let go. 

Mothering—either in the physical sense or emotional one—is sacrificial at its core, so we shouldn’t be surprised when we yet again have to release what we thought would be and accept what is. And yet, each time a moment comes, we’re faced with the decision to move through disappointment and grief, surrender our expectations, and discover what goodness might exist on the other side.

We asked three moms to share a bit of their stories:

Aisha | Mom of two

From the moment you find out you’re pregnant, you are filled with expectation. You picture exactly how your life is going to unfold—every moment building toward a singular event: bringing your baby home. What you never expect, what no one prepares you for, is not bringing your baby home. And that’s exactly where we found ourselves when our son was born prematurely, taking his first and last breaths in the hospital. 

No one teaches you how to mother a child who is no longer with you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t. One of the most profound realizations in my journey of motherhood is that the way I honor my son in this life is how I continue to be his mother today. I may never fully understand why my son died, but I can see how God has been with me every step of the way—infusing me with His peace, holding space for my grief, and allowing my story to be part of something greater. A story that brings hope to those who feel hopeless.

That dependency on Jesus has given me the greatest gift a mother could ever receive—an understanding that love is the force that transcends all things, even death.

My life did not turn out the way I expected or thought I deserved. But in the midst of unexpected loss, I have come to realize just how much I need Jesus to carry me through. And over time, I’ve seen God use my heartbreak to come alongside others walking similar paths, reminding me that we truly are never alone. 

Michelle | Mom of four

I have fond memories of the first time they put my newborn son into my arms, melting into big brown eyes, finding a new love, and cherishing the life-changing moment. Over the years, I watched as this little bundle crawled, toddled, walked, and ran. I knew I needed to release him over these stages to brave his first steps and venture into his next chapter. I continued a practice of letting go from the top of slides, at corner bus stops, and in the hands of caretakers. 

I embraced dreams of sports, first loves, college, and marriage as I watched him grow. But, in place of the plan I imagined, a world of “other” was given me to hold as a diagnosis of autism entered our world.  

The mother’s dreams I clung to and paths I anticipated were now replaced with therapy appointments, support groups, doctor visits, and school meetings. My phone did not ring for playdates—and quiet times at home were replaced by struggle and frustration. I found myself in a new season of releasing my own expectations as I put a little boy on a school bus years earlier than anticipated so he could learn how to talk, strengthen his body, and assimilate to the world around him.  

Every day I had to let go to release my son into the plan of my heavenly Father, surrendering my maternal expectations, dreams, and even my finances. With newly emptied hands, God was able to place in them a new life for my son and our family filled with incredible friends, loving family, blessings, and hardships guided by One who loves and sees. 

Through the years, I continued to release my son into a world, not protected by social systems, but where he had to be his own, unique self. I look back to realize that every time I released my son, it was an opportunity to show me that God never, ever let go. God was with my son on that school bus and in the therapy sessions. God was there with the neurologist, teachers, and children’s pastors. God is still  present as this young man begins an independent life in his first home, with God walking alongside as he soars. I am thankful knowing that as I continue to let go, God always holds my son even tighter as he lives to love the people and be a witness for Christ in the world. 

Jan | Mother figure to many

To be honest, I never aspired to be a mom or needed to let go of that dream. As a young adult, I simply wanted to be in the center of God’s will for my life, whatever that looked like (married or not, kids or not). 

Eventually I met my late husband at the youth group that became Willow Creek Community Church. Early in marriage, we embarked on a very healthy process of seeking God’s best path for us, and we made the decision to forgo having kids, live below our means, and make career choices that freed us up to pursue the ministry of availability. At the same time, we knew that if we were going to be friends with people who did have kids, we were going to have to be about the whole family and enter into it with them! 

It’s tempting to look to the left or the right and compare, but God constantly drew me to look up and find fulfillment in His plan for my life, not what others expected. Although we let go of a family of our own, we worked hard to earn the right to spend time with other families, and never felt lacking in family or community. Because I didn’t have direct experience with kids of my own, I approached every little one with curiosity and openness, knowing I had something to learn from them. I have discovered that to connect with anyone younger (whether they be 2 or 22), I need to go slow, listen well, and show them that I care about their interests. What a gift it’s been to watch them grow into adulthood and cheer them on! 

For decades, we’ve had the blessing to see God use us to invest in others, often living out His nurturing nature as we sought to be incredibly intentional and generous towards those He put in our path. What a beautiful gift it’s been to simply open my hands and see what God might do!

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Each story is unique, but the invitation is the same: to let go of expectations or pressure and allow God to use whatever circumstance you find yourself in to draw you to him. So if you…

• Wanted children but struggled with infertility
• Don’t desire children but feel the pressure
• Lost a child too soon
• Imagined you would be more patient
• Feel uncomfortable in your body
• Watched your child make poor choices
• No longer have contact with a child
• Live in fear of what could go wrong
• Struggle to give yourself grace
• No longer know who you are…

Know that you are loved deeply, and God can use your grief, doubts, and disappointments. Here’s a simple prayer for you this Mother’s Day.

Jesus,

Thank you for the gift of motherhood,

Both on the best days,

And when things aren’t at all what I hoped for or planned.

Help me let go of expectations

And accept your invitation to love and be loved.

May I have grace for myself,

And grace for those I mother, 

whether biologically, spiritually, or relationally. 

Use my life and my circumstances to help me

Experience you more, and 

Help others see you through me.

I trust that even in my rejoicing and disappointment

You are there.

Amen