I must admit, I struggled to find the right words for today’s Mother’s Day reflection.
Not because there’s nothing to say, but because there’s too much to say.
At first, I thought about exploring the economics of women, particularly the burdens placed on Black women in America.
I thought about how society leans heavily on women, expecting them to carry families, communities, and even entire economies — often without the support they deserve.
But that felt heavy. Too heavy for today.
Then I thought about my mother, a single mom, and the armor single mothers wear, the strength they summon, the loneliness they sometimes endure.
Again, that felt too heavy for today.
So I shifted.
I realized I didn’t want today’s reflection to weigh heavy, I wanted it to lift.
To breathe gratitude and awe.
I thought about the women who nurtured me, and how they were so much more than nurturers:
The women in my childhood classrooms, who taught not just facts, but possibility.
The women professors who challenged and expanded my thinking.
The women leaders in the workplace, my first boss was a woman, whose leadership helped shape my own.
The friends and colleagues who balance careers, caregiving, and community work, often invisibly, often without applause.
And of course, I thought about my wife,
who worked tirelessly caring for our children when they were young,
who still obsesses over them quietly even now,
who works and tries her best to iterate on the life we've lived,
trying to make things better for the future,
even as she carries thoughts of her own parents' future too.
"Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." (Galatians 6:9)
In so many ways, women embody this kind of quiet, relentless faithfulness, doing good day after day, often with no guarantee of harvest but trusting in the promise all the same.
I thought about my own mother.
She died in August of 1984.
While I struggle to piece together a worn smile, I can, even if it's just something I am imagining, still piece together moments:
My mother's hands, tired from caring for us, but in my heart of hearts, her love undiminished.
It is how I choose to embrace the fragments, to put the puzzle together, from moments that shape how I understand strength today.
In those fragments, I see not just my mother’s strength, but the strength I see reflected in women everywhere.
Did you catch that?
Not just one woman's strength, but every woman's strength.
Today, I am choosing to see women fully.
As nurturers, yes.
But also as builders, visionaries, scholars, leaders, warriors, peacemakers, and creators of futures.
I am choosing to honor the radical contributions of women, contributions that shape not only homes, but entire communities and nations.
The work women do, seen and unseen, is nothing short of world-changing.
It is sacred work, shaping destinies seen and unseen.
Are you tracking?
Sacred work.
Not second-class work.
Not background noise.
Sacred.
And so, on this Mother’s Day, rather than focusing solely on the weight women bear, I want to celebrate the gift that women are.
To the mothers, mentors, sisters, aunties, friends, and colleagues,
to every woman who gives life in some way to this world, Happy Mother’s Day.
We see you.
We honor you.
We thank you.
And today, may we not only celebrate, but commit to seeing, honoring, and supporting women every day.
May you know today, and every day, that the world is better because of you.
As I reflect on the women who shaped me, especially my mother, I find myself holding onto the fragments of her love, her strength, her quiet sacrifices.
And sometimes, when I sit still long enough, I imagine speaking these words to her across time and space:
I often think about you, mother, and wonder if you’re proud
Of the man that I’ve become to date, as you watch me through the cloud.
As I navigate my way through life, I wonder if it was you
Who instilled in me a faith so strong and the will to see life through.
Happy Mother’s Day!