I’m not a stranger to the midnight hours of motherhood—the blur and blinking toward the clock after little hands have reached to rouse me from sleep, or those hours when sleep has been altogether unreachable for angst about what I’d face tomorrow. I’m not a stranger to what my guests, Becky and Susan, call the midnight moments of motherhood either. Those midnight moments when the weight of the day spills into the night—when exhaustion, uncertainty, pain, or grief steal our breath and our peace. It is for these moments that Susan and Becky, a mother-daughter team, offer nightly prayer and hope to their almost-two-million-member online community, Midnight Mom Devotional, and today offer a moment of hope to us. Becky and Susan, welcome to the front porch.

Guest Post by Becky Thompson and Susan K. Pitts

The phone call came under a clear afternoon sky on a day that had started out like any other. I, Susan, was told that my seventy-six-year-old momma, who lived fifteen hundred miles away, was having chest pains and being taken to the hospital. I was concerned, but this had happened before, and a change in medication usually resolved the pain. I expected her to be discharged in about forty-eight hours. 

A short time later, I received another call saying that her condition had worsened, and they were trying hard to get her stabilized. I began to pray and intercede. I asked the Lord to heal my mom and to give the doctors wisdom.

Why hadn’t I called her the night before? I had thought about it, but I was so tired. I had things I wanted to tell her. I wanted to hear her voice once more. I just needed extra time, and I begged the Lord for it.

The next call came within the hour. She was gone. The doctors and nurses couldn’t save her. I can only remember saying No! over and over again as the tears poured down my face.

John 20 tells the story of another woman, Mary Magdalene, who was overcome with grief. She was the first witness to the resurrection of Jesus, but the moments leading up to her encounter with the resurrected Christ are heartbreaking.

She looked into the empty tomb, but instead of finding Jesus, she saw two angels.

They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

Jesus said to her, “Mary.” John 20:13-16, NIV 

Mary was the first person to encounter the resurrected Christ. She was the first one to see Jesus after He rose from the dead. But I often think about those moments just before her greatest joy when she experienced her deepest pain.

I think of Mary’s confusion, profound grief, and overwhelming sorrow. I think of how her eyes were so clouded with tears that she couldn’t recognize Jesus in front of her. And I think about how in an instant, at the mention of her name, she knew it was the Lord standing there.

Momma, in your moments of deep hurt when you weep tears of sorrow, listen carefully for the Lord’s voice, no matter what you are suffering or whom you have lost.

“…in your moments of deep hurt when you weep tears of sorrow, listen carefully for the Lord’s voice, no matter what you are suffering or whom you have lost. Jesus is calling your name.”

Jesus is calling your name.

He is holding you close.

My friend, the empty tomb means hope for all our hurting hearts because it means we will see our loved ones again.

I’ll hear my momma’s voice again when she says my name, Susan. What a glorious day that will be! But even that will not compare to the sound of my Savior calling my name. 

Tonight we pray for the momma whose heart aches.

Lord, there are so many reasons mommas grieve. We grieve the loss of dreams, relationships, jobs, or homes. Lord, we mourn the loss of loved ones or children, those we have held in our arms and those we have held only within us. We grieve when we feel all alone.

Lord, You see each momma’s heartache. Your arms are big enough to hold her and her grief. Wrap her in Your love right now, and remind her that You never have and never will leave her. Bring her comfort as only You can.

We ask in Jesus’s name, amen.

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[ Our humble thanks to Tyndale for their partnership in today’s devotional. ]