Mother’s Day is a time of joy for many—but for others, it’s complicated. It stirs a deep gratitude, yes, but also grief, longing, or even questions that don’t have easy answers. In Scripture, we meet two women whose stories help us hold both ends of that emotional spectrum: Hannah, the mother of Samuel, and Mary, the mother of Jesus.

These women knew the indescribable joy of receiving a child—and the unspeakable ache of releasing them back into God’s hands.

As I reflect on their stories, I am deeply aware that their experience is not confined to the pages of Scripture. It’s lived out every day by mothers all around us—women who carry both fierce love and deep sacrifice in their hearts.

Whether it’s the sleepless nights of infancy, the quiet worry that comes with every new stage of independence, or the unimaginable sorrow of saying goodbye too soon—motherhood is not for the faint of heart. It demands everything, often in silence and without recognition. Yet, day after day, mothers keep showing up—giving, nurturing, praying, letting go.

This writing is my way of honoring that strength. Of acknowledging the hidden heartbreaks and holy resilience that define so many mothers’ lives. I want this to be more than a reflection—it’s a tribute. A way of rising up, as Proverbs 31 says, to call mothers blessed—not just for what they do, but for who they are.

Because the journey of motherhood is sacred. And today, I see you.

Hannah: A Mother Who Gave Her Miracle Back

In 1 Samuel 1, we find Hannah, a woman barren for years, weeping before the Lord in bitter anguish. She prays for a son and makes a vow:

“If you will… give your servant a son, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life.”
– 1 Samuel 1:11 (ESV)

Her longing is raw and desperate—a heartache only a mother can fully understand. And God, in His mercy, answers.

But what strikes me most is not just that God gave her Samuel, but that Hannah kept her vow. After weaning him—likely around three or four years old—she brought Samuel to the temple and left him there to serve the Lord.

She let go. Not because she didn’t love her child, but because she trusted God more.

What mother wouldn’t ache at such a moment? It wasn’t just a dedication—it was a surrender. And yet, in her surrender, there was worship:

“My heart exults in the Lord… There is none holy like the Lord: for there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God.”
– 1 Samuel 2:1–2 (ESV)

Hannah models a faith that does not cling to the gift more than the Giver.

Mary: A Mother Who Watched Her Son Die

Centuries later, another young woman would say yes to a child she never expected. Mary’s story begins with surrender:

“Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”
– Luke 1:38 (ESV)

She carried Jesus into a world that would one day crucify Him. She mothered the Savior of the world, and from His first breath to His final one, she bore the silent weight of watching Him fulfill a purpose that pierced her own soul.

Simeon had warned her:

“… and a sword will pierce through your own soul also.”
– Luke 2:35 (ESV)

That sword struck deepest at the foot of the cross.

“But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother…”
– John 19:25 (ESV)

What kind of mother watches her innocent son beaten, mocked, and murdered—and does not collapse under the weight of it?

Mary did. She stood, silent and steady, witnessing the agony of redemption. She held Him once as a baby. She would never hold Him again this side of the resurrection. Her motherhood was always shadowed by sacrifice.

The Holy Ache of Letting Go

Whether it’s dropping a child off at kindergarten, watching them graduate, saying goodbye as they move out, or losing them far too soon, motherhood always involves release. It is a holy ache—an act of trust that often goes unseen, but never unnoticed by God.

We see in both Hannah and Mary that motherhood is not just about the joy of having a child—it’s about the courage of letting them go.

This surrender isn’t easy. Sometimes, it comes with tears on a temple floor. Sometimes, with a sword to the soul. But always, it comes with God.

When Our Children Rise

“Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.’”
– Proverbs 31:28–29 (ESV)

These words were never meant to applaud a perfect woman, but a faithful one. One who loves deeply, prays fiercely, and surrenders daily. A woman like Hannah. A woman like Mary. A woman like you.

To the mothers who have waited long for a child…
To the ones who’ve had to let them go sooner than expected…
To those who raise them with trembling hands and prayerful hearts…

You are seen. You are blessed. You are held by the same sovereign hand that held Hannah and Mary.

A Final Blessing

This Mother’s Day, we honor not just the beauty of motherhood, but the bravery of it. The part that isn’t wrapped in flowers or cards, but soaked in prayer and faith. The part forged in hospital rooms, at kitchen tables, and on long drives to and from practices or appointments. The part that quietly surrenders, again and again, even when it aches to hold on.

Let us celebrate the unseen sacrifices: the strength it takes to keep loving when your heart is worn thin, the faith it takes to release when your arms long to cling, and the hope it takes to believe that every seed sown in love and truth will bear fruit in God’s time.

To every mother—biological, adoptive, foster, spiritual, or grieving—know this: your labor is not in vain. Your love echoes into eternity. The Lord sees you. He is with you. And He is faithful.

Because the God who gave you your child…
Is the same God who holds them still.
And He holds you, too.