For Mothers of Young Children
Finding Miracles in Motherhood
The Savior’s miracles give me hope and healing, strengthening my testimony of the divinity of motherhood.
Ever since President Russell M. Nelson invited us all to “expect miracles,”1 I have been thinking a lot about miracles.
I think of the many miracles of Jesus Christ. The first one that always comes into my heart and mind is the miraculous healing of the woman with an issue of blood (see Luke 8:43–48). When I think of her, tears prick my eyes. I don’t fully understand her illness, but her story speaks to my heart.
This woman spent 12 years of her life yearning for healing. And though I have not experienced a crippling 12-year ailment, I still empathize with her. What was she feeling? How difficult did her malady make her life—physically, financially, and even spiritually? Did she lament the loss of her youthful beauty? Did she feel regret over what she couldn’t accomplish or become? Did she question her value in the eyes of the Lord?
In a way, I “feel” her pain. A few strands of white hair frame my face, where it used to be youthful and brown. Even with striving to find balance in the title of “working mom,” finances are a daily concern, and sometimes I wonder how God feels about me and my efforts. Does He really love me?
I wonder what pains this woman experienced. Was she able to marry or bear children? Did she remain alone? What had her prolonged ailment stolen from her?
I find myself in a rare kinship, as never before, with this scriptural woman, and my tears begin to fall. She needed a miracle. I need miracles too.
Miracles in the Midst of Struggles
As a mother, I struggle sometimes. And I sometimes feel alone.
I’m married to a loving husband. I have three children, and I know I’m so blessed to have them. I treasure them, and I think back on one hard night when it was difficult to feel grateful. I sat in my rocking chair, holding my youngest close to me; he was sick and needed extra snuggles.
My other two children were wrapped in blankets and lying on the floor at my feet, holding their buckets close just in case. My husband was working late so that we would have the money we need to pay the bills. In that moment, he was not there to help take care of our sick kids.
That night I thought of this woman and her experience with Jesus Christ. She teaches me that even in moments where I feel utterly alone—I am not.
In that moment, I reflected on the comfort I find in “The Family: A Proclamation to the World.” Our loving Heavenly Father entrusts mothers with the divine call of nurturing. To nurture means to care for and encourage the growth and development of, in this case, children. The gentle reminder that the Lord trusts me to care for and nurture His children was the small miracle I needed to find joy in the depths of my motherhood. The hem of His garment became reachable to me; I could comfort my children. In giving comfort, I received comfort. He was at my side.
If I go to my Savior, He will acknowledge me when I feel invisible. He will strengthen me when I have nothing left to give. He will open my eyes to the good, and He will manifest His love for me.
Mercifully He will show me the way. He will give me miracles.
The Miracle of Rest from Our Burdens
That woman in the New Testament used all her strength—every bit of her faith she had—to find the Savior and touch His garment. She hoped. She reached. She held to a part of him, and her issue of blood was immediately cured (see Luke 8:44).
Because of her faith and effort to come to the Savior, she was instantly healed. Her faith in Him affected Jesus so profoundly that He even stopped and asked, “Who touched me?” (Luke 8:45).
Like with the woman with the issue of blood, Christ not only wants to give me miracles but to welcome me with open arms too. He will never discourage my attempts to come to Him. I know that I too can “be of good comfort”—and my faith in Him can make me feel whole (Luke 8:48).
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said: “To all mothers in every circumstance, including those who struggle—and all will—I say, ‘Be peaceful. Believe in God and yourself. You are doing better than you think you are. In fact, you are saviors on Mount Zion [see Obadiah 1:21], and like the Master you follow, your love “never faileth” [Moroni 7:46].’ I can pay no higher tribute to anyone.”2
There is peace in expecting miracles. The Savior wants me to also “go in peace,” the same way He wanted the healed woman to leave feeling peace and rest (Luke 8:48). I now trust and believe in the power of our prophet’s invitation to “expect miracles.” I have the Savior’s hem within reach, and I can find divine strength in motherhood to reach for it.