It’s a gift to be able to share space with people who just get it.
My friendEileen Campbell-Reed always offers me that space. We can shorthand conversations about things that matter deeply to the practice of ministry, and I know that we hear each other. That’s one of the reasons I am grateful to be part of 3MMM. These episodes offer a space for ministers to name the parts of ministry that are not easy to explore.
One of those spaces, for me, is grief. Specifically, grief around motherhood.
For a long time, that grief was marked by loneliness. My husband and I experienced many years of fertility treatments before our son was born in 2012. Followed by more seasons of infertility treatments, miscarriage and adoption loss. Mother’s Day has not always been easy.
I am not alone in that grief. We know that 1 in 8 couples will experience infertility. Which means someone in your circle of friends. Someone in your family. Someone in your pews. Maybe someone in your pulpit.
Chances are, they don’t want to tell you all the details of their grief around infertility treatments, miscarriage or infant loss. So much of this is extremely intimate and, frankly, makes no sense if you have not had to wrangle the emotions and fees and calendars and weight of this kind of loss.
Those who know fertility grief know the wails of failed hope, and they walk into worship spaces where hope is spoken, sung and claimed.
It’s a striking chord, and often jarring.
Which is why we sing each other through it.
At our first “Hannah Service” a couple of years ago, we crafted a service where the music could hold space for this kind of grief. With a liturgy sturdy enough for loss, we invited people who had experienced infertility, miscarriage, infant loss, and adoption loss. We sang Precious Lord. We heard Let It Fall, while we planted bulbs into soil. The story of Hannah offers a glimpse of grief laid bare: “Hannah, why are you weeping?”
Again this year, we are asking who is weeping.
PandemicGrief coming up against Mother’s Day means we need each other now as much as we ever did. Our weeping may be socially distant, but the grief needs tending in these days.One offering is this:
A virtual Hannah Service.
On the Thursday night before Mother’s Day, Project Pomegranate invites all who grieve around Mother’s Day to join us for an experience of reflection and hope. Thursday, May 7 at 7:00 pm, we will share this service with you.
Would you join us? Would you share it with someone who could use this space to grieve?
A few things will help you prepare. Set your space, grab a candle to light, and print this labyrinth.
Breathe deep, friends. You are not alone.
#infertilitygrief #adoptionloss #fertilitygrief #pandemicpastoring #MothersDayGrief
