To the Mom Who Feels Invisible This Mother's Day

Mother's Day is not a Hallmark ad for everyone.

The card aisle at Walgreens doesn't have a section for the woman whose mother just died. It doesn't have one for the woman whose body won't give her a child. It doesn't have one for the mom whose teenage daughter isn't speaking to her, or the mom who's carrying a season of failing she cannot say out loud.

So before anyone puts a rose in your hand or forces you to stand up, we want you to hear this. You are seen. You belong here. Sunday is for you, not instead of the woman with three kids and a smile in a pew, but alongside her.

 

For the mom who lost a child this year.

We won’t pretend Sunday isn’t hard. We won’t ask you to stand. If you want it, we will pray with you and over you and sit with you in the quiet.

For the woman who wanted to be a mom and isn't.

Every year, you've shown up to a church on Mother's Day and felt a fresh wound open in a room full of celebration. We have not forgotten that. This Sunday, you are not an afterthought. You are a woman whose faith has been refined in a fire most people will never understand. We honor that.

For the mom who feels like she’s failing at it all.

If you have ever sat in the carpool line and wondered how other women seem to have it together, this is your service (we call them Encounters). We are not going to tell you to do more. We are not going to hand you a list. We are going to remind you that the Gospel was written for women just like you.

For the mom still forgiving her own mom.

Mother’s Day carries the weight of the mothers we had, the mothers we wish we had, and the mothers we are trying to become. If any of that is tender for you, come. There is space for it here.

 

What we’re doing Sunday.

This Mother’s Day, at 9:00 AM and 11:00 AM, we’re setting aside time to honor the women who have poured into our lives — the moms, grandmas, aunties, mentors, and every woman who has loved us like her own. Every woman in the room will receive a gift.

And we will make room for all of it. The joy and the ache. The celebration and the quiet. Because that is the actual shape of motherhood, and it is the actual shape of the Gospel.

If you are a mom, a future mom, a spiritual mom, a stepmom, a foster mom, a grandmother raising grandchildren, a woman who has poured herself out in the lives of other people's kids — you are seen.

 

Come as you are.

Bring your mother. Bring your sister. Bring your friend who has been dreading this Sunday. Bring your own weary self.


Sunday, May 10, 2026 · 9:00 AM + 11:00 AM · 20120 Blue Sage Pkwy, Elkhorn.

We saved you a seat → Plan Your Visit

Next
Next

Be Careful What You Wish For