Dear Mothers

Dear Mothers,

My pen has hovered for moments. Hoping for words that honor, afraid of those that will hurt. I could easily assume and blunder my way into spaces only known by you. Or I could play it safe. Offer a sincere but meager thank you, and leave it at that. 

But in hopes of honor, I’ll risk this..

When I address mothers, I mean all women. The beauty of your fire and the balm of your spirit isn’t a gift restricted to those with kids. I don’t know how the word ‘mother’ falls on your ears. Maybe it’s joy soaked, glass-edged, or distant. I don’t know how your mothering has been seen or diminished, scoffed or celebrated. There’s much to wonder about in those words. 

I don’t know what it's like to offer your presence, but I have felt the gift of receiving it. 

Your courage carved a path for me to follow. 
Your love of adventure affirmed my own. 
You sat with me in grief, unflinching. 
Your delight has contended against my doubt. 

You’ve created and tended spaces with deft hands and patient ears and a clever smile. And I am different because of it. My hope is that you are too - that the expression of your goodness has not wrung your soul for the benefit of others. But in some magical and surprising way, I hope the giving of your gift has nourished the deepest places in your own soul. 

Women, we need your mothering. Not to lighten our loads, but to weight the world with a more true and beautiful picture of the character of God. 

We are deeply grateful. May our gratitude and celebration of your goodness continue beyond this day.

-Jesse French
Restoration Project Executive Director