“You’d be the best mom.” 

It’s one of the kindest compliments to have someone glance your way and think that you’re nurturing, strong, and caring enough to raise a child well. It doesn’t matter if the comment comes because they’ve seen you holding a baby on your hip or simply know you well enough to recognize you love others with a mama’s heart. It’s meant to be deeply affirming. And often, it is.

But sometimes those five little words can sting. 

Earlier this year, when I drove home from Dallas after meeting my precious newborn nephew, reality hit me in a different way. As a single woman, I’ve always thought that if I didn’t marry young, I still could later in life, technically up until the final hours of my time on earth. But the opportunity to have biological babies doesn’t remain forever.

I mentioned this to a friend, someone I knew would understand without me having to talk around the lump in my throat. She’s never been married and has spent her single years traveling the world, serving in her local church, and seeking to live in ways that honor the Lord. She nodded. She understood immediately.

“Being a wife and mom was my only dream,” she said. 

As Mother’s Day nears, I’ve been thinking about her––not only as she wonders if she missed the motherhood window herself but as she looks through this glass at moms who will celebrate this weekend. 

I’ve also been thinking about older friends who often receive the compliment, only in past tense: “You would have been an amazing mom.” 

This weekend, they won’t mention their heartache. They won’t tap to “opt out” of marketing messages being emailed about Mother’s Day deals. They’ll be entirely focused on loving the women in their life who are amazing mothers––and their joy will be genuine. 

It’s not that they don’t grieve the life they longed for. It’s not that they’ve stopped wishing for their own nest to be full. But they have learned to rest in truth––the kind that gently offers them a reminder that their value is not tied to motherhood nor do their lives lack meaning, beauty, or purpose. They’re merely grounded in a different kind of fullness. 

Not Less Like Him 

Lately, as I’ve read the Gospels, I’ve thought, Jesus would have been an amazing dad. For many of those narratives, Jesus was not too much older than my youngest brother, who became a father earlier this year. As a thirty-something single man, Jesus would have spent time among other families with kids––laughing with them, lifting a giggly toddler onto His shoulders while walking between towns, and joking with His friends’ teenage sons. 

The Gospel authors included moments that have all the tenderness and love of a father’s heart. In Mark 10:13–16, Jesus didn’t shoo kids away or treat them as distractions; He took them in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them. 

In Mark 5, while on the way to heal Jairus’ little girl, a woman with a chronic disease reached out and touched Him. Rather than rebuking her, Jesus addressed her with the compassion of a dad: “Daughter . . . your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be healed from your affliction” (v. 34).

At other times, we see Jesus patiently teaching His disciples (Matt. 16:5–12), correcting them when they were arguing (Luke 9:46–48), and even preparing breakfast (John 21:1–14). He prayed for them, provided for them, and helped them grow from immature boys to godly men, many who were eventually martyred for His Father’s name. 

Some of these traits feel easy to gloss over. He’s Jesus. Of course, He was sacrificial and consistent and had the characteristics of a great parent. But it’s worth slowing down to remember that Jesus really was human. He lived without the milestones many of us long for but not without meaning or fullness.

So, if this weekend reopens wounds or whispers of what might never be, look to Jesus and know this comes from a woman who’s right there with you: what feels missing in your story hasn’t made you less like Him. 

  • Your heart still images Him. You were created in the likeness of a God who nurtures, protects, and loves deeply (Isa. 40:11). The innate dignity He’s given you hasn’t been diminished if you don’t have little ones running around who look like you. Whether or not children have your name or your features, you still bear His image. 
  • You still reflect the fullness of femininity. Even if you never carry a baby in your own womb, your womanhood isn’t lacking. Jesus was not less of a man because He never married and never had His own children. In the same way, your womanhood isn’t defined by your season of life. You still get to display His glory in distinctly feminine ways as you live with hope that rests securely in the Lord (Isa. 54:1).
  • Your love isn’t wasted. Every ounce of care you’ve given carries eternal weight. Whether you’ve poured out your heart as an aunt, a foster mom, a nanny, a neighbor, or a friend––your faithfulness is not forgotten (Heb. 6:10). In Christ, even the smallest offering is gathered up and used for His glory.
  • Your legacy isn’t limited by biology. Because of Jesus, you’ve been adopted into a spiritual family that transcends earthly ties (Eph. 1:5). You’ve been entrusted with the calling of building up the next generation of faith, growing God’s family, and caring for His kids (Titus 2:3–5).
  • Your hope is in Him. Even though your years may have unfolded differently than you imagined, Jesus remains “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). You can trust that His plans for your life can only be good because He can only be faithful to you. Your future in Christ is steadfast and sure because it’s anchored not in what could have been but in the promise of who He is (Heb. 6:19). 

He Sees You This Mother’s Day 

This Mother’s Day weekend, my heart is with you. You may be planning to help your Sunday school students make cards for their moms, or maybe you’ll spend the afternoon gathering your nieces and nephews to play games after brunch. You’ll watch your sisters scoop up their kids while you wash dishes in the kitchen with your parents, knowing they too shared your dream of having a family of your own. They carry your grief for all the years it never came true.

As you celebrate with other women this weekend, your smile may never slip from your face. But I know how much you wanted motherhood to be yours, and how much it still hurts that it’s not. Take comfort, dear friend, in knowing that Jesus Himself sees your hurt, understands it far more than anyone else can, and is able to infuse you with faith and joy. This weekend, may you feel His presence and His peace, knowing you’re living a life that looks a lot like His. 

The message of freedom, fullness, and fruitfulness in Christ is spreading far and wide—like a river that cannot be stopped. It’s reaching more women, leading them to thrive in Christ, and shaping lives for generations to come. Would you prayerfully join us in this work? We’d love to send you the 50 Promises to Live By Card Set this month as our thanks for your donation of any amount to help women thrive in Christ. May it be a constant reminder of God’s unchanging care for you.