Held, Not Crushed - Mother's Day 2026

Today is Mother’s day and Mother’s Day can be a beautiful day.

For many, it is a day to give thanks.

To honor mothers.

To remember sacrifices made quietly and faithfully over many years.

To celebrate the women who have loved, nurtured, prayed, served, taught, corrected, encouraged, and carried burdens that many people never saw.

And we should honor that.

But I also know Mother’s Day can be a complicated day.

For some, it brings joy.

For some, it brings grief.

For some, it brings regret.

For some, it brings longing.

For some, it brings memories of loss.

For some, it brings the ache of what never was.

And for many mothers, it can bring a strange mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.

Because real motherhood is not always what the pictures make it look like.

Real motherhood is often beautiful, but it is also hard.

It is often joyful, but it is also tiring.

It is often meaningful, but it is also repetitive.

It is often filled with love, but it is also filled with uncertainty.

And our culture does not always help.

Because the world today sends women very confusing messages.

On one side, motherhood is often minimized, as though it is somehow less meaningful than career, success, public recognition, or personal achievement.

But on the other side, mothers are often crushed under impossible expectations.

Be fully present. - Keep the house together.

Raise emotionally healthy children. - Make wise decisions.

Stay calm. - Stay attractive.

Stay productive. - Stay spiritual.

Stay strong. - Do not fall behind. - Do not mess this up.

And whatever you do, make it look effortless.

And if you don’t get that right, then the world tells you that “You are failing.”

I know many mothers carry invisible questions:

Am I enough? - Am I messing this up?

Why do I always feel behind?

Why does everyone else seem to handle this better than I do?

What I do not want to do this morning is add another weight to already weary shoulders.

I do not want this sermon to become, “Here are twelve ways to be a better mother.”

Because for some people, that only creates guilt:

“I am not doing those things, and I do not know how.”

For others, it creates pride:

“I am doing better than most people.”

This morning, I do not want to begin with the question,

“How can mothers become enough?”

I want to begin with a better question:

“Who is God, and what does He say about our identity, our worth, our weakness, and our rest?”

Because weary hearts do not ultimately need a better technique.

They need a bigger vision of the God who holds them.

And what we will see from Scripture is this:

God calls mothers—and all of us—not to perfection, but to faithfulness. And that faithfulness can only flourish when our identity is rooted in Christ.

So we are going to begin where the Bible begins.

We begin with God.

Biblical Motherhood Is a Reflection, Not a Requirement to Be God

If we are going to think rightly about motherhood, we have to begin where the Bible begins. We begin with God.

Genesis 1:26–28 ESV

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

When we look back to creation and see God’s hand in creation, what did He do?

He created man - (that is mankind, not just men) in His own image, male and female he created them.

Both men and women are created in the image of God, and because of this, men and women play different roles reflecting that image.

Women are not lesser image-bearers.

Women are not spiritually inferior.

Women are not simply supporting characters in God’s story.

Women were designed by God to reflect aspects of God’s care, nurture, compassion, protection, and sustaining love.

(Now guys, you are not off the hook with this because we also display these same aspects, but women display it differently).

Think of a mother’s love versus a father’s love.

They are displayed differently.

It is important for us to remember that men and women are equal in value and dignity before God, but it also shows us that God created men and women distinctly and intentionally.

Our differences are not accidents.

They are not flaws.

They are not problems to overcome.

One of the beautiful ways that design often expresses itself is through motherhood.

Now I also want to pause here for a moment and say something important.

For some women, Mother’s Day is joyful.

For others, it is complicated.

And for some, it is deeply painful.

There are women who longed to become mothers and were never able to.

Women who have walked through infertility, miscarriage, or loss.

Women who carry quiet grief that most people never see.

And I think it is important to say clearly this morning:

your worth is not measured by whether you have children.

Your identity is not found in motherhood.

Your identity is found in Christ.

The Bible never presents children as the ultimate measure of a woman’s value before God.

In fact, some of the most faithful women in Scripture are remembered not primarily because they were mothers, but because they loved God deeply and walked faithfully with Him.

Jesus Himself elevated women in a way that was radically countercultural in His day.

He welcomed them.

He taught them.

He honored them as disciples and fellow heirs of grace.

So while we want to honor motherhood today—and we should—we also want to remember that the highest calling of a woman is not motherhood.

It is belonging to Jesus Christ.

Motherhood can be a beautiful reflection of God’s care.

But no earthly role—not even motherhood—is the foundation of a person’s identity.

Christ is.

And this is also where the Bible gives us a much bigger vision of family than our culture often does.

Because Scripture does not define fruitfulness merely in biological terms.

The New Testament repeatedly describes the church as a family.

Paul calls Timothy:

“my true child in the faith.”

Older women are instructed in Titus 2 to teach and disciple younger women.

Throughout the history of the church, there have been women who never had biological children and yet became spiritual mothers to countless people through:

prayer,

discipleship,

hospitality,

wisdom,

encouragement,

service,

and faithful love.

There are women sitting in churches every Sunday whose spiritual influence has shaped generations of believers even though they never raised children of their own.

And that matters deeply in the kingdom of God.

Because in Scripture, fruitfulness is not ultimately measured merely by biology.

It is measured by faithfulness to Christ.

And honestly, many of us can look back and recognize women who spiritually mothered us:

Sunday school teachers,

faithful older saints,

women who prayed for us,

women who encouraged us,

women who modeled Christ to us.

They helped nurture spiritual life in us.

That is profoundly valuable.

So while we rightly honor biological motherhood today, we should also honor the broader biblical reality that women reflect the heart of God in many life-giving, nurturing, Christ-centered ways within the family of God.

Motherhood itself is presented in scripture as something honorable and profoundly meaningful.

Because motherhood in every form, reflects something true about God.

Think about some of the ways God is described in the Bible.

Compassionate, nurturing, patient, protective, provider, comforter, carrying His people, caring for the weak, faithful even when His people are not.

When you see a woman - holding a crying child, staying awake through the night, sacrificing her comfort, caring for needs nobody else notices, showing patience even though she is exhausted, continuing to love when emotionally drained - you are seeing a small reflection of the heart of God.

God designed motherhood to echo something about His own character.

God tells us this, but our culture sends confusing messages to women today.

On one side, I see more and more of this, motherhood being minimized.

Motherhood being treated as secondary or in the way of career, success, status, and public recognition.

But that same culture also places impossible expectations on mothers.

It used to show up in magazines, now it is found on social media and blogs.

“God Never Called Mothers to Be Instagram Ideals”

The modern world has created a vision of motherhood that is almost impossible to survive.

Mothers today are expected to:

work like they have no children,

parent like they have no job,

maintain a home like they have no exhaustion,

look like they have no stress,

and somehow appear joyful and fulfilled at every moment.

And then the world says: “If you are overwhelmed, you are failing.”

But much of what burdens mothers today is not coming from Scripture.

It is coming from culture.

The Bible calls mothers to faithfulness. The world demands perfection.

Women end up crushed under expectations no human being was ever created to carry.

Somewhere along the way, many mothers stopped seeing themselves as image-bearers pointing to God and started feeling like they needed to be God.

Always available.

Always wise.

Always emotionally steady.

Always sufficient.

But mothers were never meant to carry divine weight.

Only God can do that.

Only God is omniscient.

Only God is sovereign.

Only God can hold all things together.

Only God can perfectly shape and secure a human heart.

And this is so important because many weary mothers today are carrying responsibilities God never asked them to carry.

I see mothers who feel responsible for every outcome, every struggle, every future decision, every emotional wound, every success, every failure.

That weight is unbearable.

And God has not called mothers to be infinite.

He calls them to be faithful.

And that is a huge difference as a reflection of, as the image bearer of God, not God Himself.

Faithfulness says:

“I will love.”

“I will serve.”

“I will teach.”

“I will nurture.”

“I will point my family toward Christ.”

But faithfulness also says:

“I cannot save anyone.”

“I cannot control every outcome.”

“I cannot carry what only God can carry.”

And honestly, this is not just true for mothers.

This is true for all of us.

One of the central sins of the human heart is trying to take onto ourselves responsibilities that belong only to God.

Trying to control everything.

Trying to secure our own worth.

Trying to hold our lives together through our own strength.

That weight crushes us.

Which is exactly why weary hearts need Jesus.

Because the gospel does not come to people who have everything together.

The gospel comes to exhausted people who finally realize:

“I cannot carry this on my own.”

That realization is not failure.

It is the beginning of grace.

Because Christianity is not built on our own strength.

It is built on the strength of God’s sufficiency.

Our value is not found in achieving cultural perfection.

Our value is rooted in being created in the image of God and loved through Jesus Christ.

And our hope is not found in becoming enough.

Our hope is found in the God who already is.

Jesus invites us to rest.

Jesus Invites the Weary Into Rest

Most of us are likely familiar with this passage -

Jesus is teaching and in

Matthew 11:28–30 ESV

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

This section demonstrates the contrast between those who reject the Gospel and those who receive it, with Jesus rebuking cities that heard his message confirmed by signs and wonders yet still refused to believe.

The timing places this invitation during a pivotal moment in Jesus’ ministry. Jesus had sent his disciples to cities and traveled to many of these places himself, preaching and teaching.

Jesus calls out towns like Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum for witnessing his miracles without repenting.

This specific teaching begins in verse 25.

25 - 27 are a prayer of thanksgiving that Jesus offers.

Matthew 11:25–27 ESV

25 At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

Then in invitation comes that we read.

Jesus teaches this invitation here because it directly addresses the spiritual condition of his audience.

He addresses those toiling under burdens others have imposed—particularly the scribes and Pharisees who “tie up heavy burdens, hard to carry, and place them on men’s shoulders.”

Perhaps that sounds familiar moms to what we were just talking about - culture placing burdens upon mother shoulders.

Where does Jesus call us to first?

He first calls burdened people to himself.

The religious establishments demand was to study the Torah more as a means of gaining acceptance.

To keep the law better.

Jesus invitation is a counter offer to this idea.

These are some of the most tender words in all of Scripture.

And I think they hit differently when you are exhausted.

Not just physically tired.

Soul tired.

The kind of tired where:

you feel emotionally drained,

mentally overwhelmed,

spiritually dry,

and quietly discouraged.

And honestly, there are many people who walk into church carrying exactly that kind of weariness.

Some are weary mothers.

Some are weary fathers.

Some are weary caregivers.

Some are weary from grief.

Some are weary from anxiety.

Some are weary from trying to hold their lives together.

And into that exhaustion, Jesus says:

“Come to Me.”

Our culture constantly tells people:

perform better,

achieve more,

present yourself perfectly,

prove your worth,

keep everything together.

And many mothers especially feel trapped under impossible expectations.

The pressure says:

“If your children struggle, you failed.”

“If your house is messy, you failed.”

“If you are overwhelmed, you failed.”

“If you are tired, you are not doing enough.”

Notice something beautiful here.

Jesus does not speak like the world speaks.

And Jesus does not speak like the accuser speaks.

The accuser says:

“You will never be enough.”

Culture says:

“Try harder.”

Pride says:

“Pretend you have it all together.”

But Jesus says:

“Come to Me.”

That invitation alone is deeply important.

Being a Christian is not about achieving a standard, it is about being brought into relationship with our savior.

Jesus specifically invites weary people.

People carrying burdens.

People struggling under pressure.

People who know they are not enough.

This matters deeply because many people secretly believe God is most pleased with them when they appear strong.

But the gospel tells us the opposite.

The gospel is good news for weak people.

The gospel is good news for weary people.

The gospel is good news for people who finally realize:

“I cannot carry this on my own.”

It is Jesus who says - I will give you advice? - Instruction?

No - I will give you rest.

And rest for your soul.

The deepest exhaustion in our lives is often not physical.

It is spiritual.

If I am to be honest here, this is something that I am learning for myself now as well.

Without realizing it, I have been in a place of spiritual exhaustion.

Physical exhaustion, I can deal with.

But spiritual exhaustion is a different animal.

It is something that creeps up on you without realizing it.

As a pastor, often, every notification feels urgent, every need feels immediate, problems can feel personal.

One thing I have come to realize is that I am constantly filling up to pour out for others, but not slowing down long enough to let the Lord refill my own soul.

I find myself carrying concerns for the church everywhere I go.

Wondering who was struggling, trying to encourage us into deeper fellowship, wanting everyone to grow in the Lord.

Without realizing it, living as though the survival of the church rested on my shoulders instead of Christ’s.

All of that on top of similar feelings in relation to my family.

Believing this way, knowingly or not, leads to emotional numbness from the constant output.

The frightening thing about spiritual exhaustion is that it rarely announces itself.

You do not wake up one morning hating Jesus.

You just slowly stop resting in Him.

I know what I am being reminded of though is that that Jesus never asked His disciples to carry His church in their own strength. He invited weary people to come to Him.

I know that this directly relates to others of you sitting here today.

Mothers know this feeling.

Mothers, sometimes spiritual exhaustion creeps in because you spend so much time taking care of everyone else that your own soul quietly begins running empty. You are making meals, cleaning messes, calming fears, driving kids everywhere, trying to hold the household together, and at some point you realize you have been surviving more than abiding. You love your family deeply, but you are tired.

Fathers know this feeling.

Fathers often carry exhaustion differently. Many feel the constant pressure to provide, lead, protect, succeed, and never fall apart. Some men have quietly convinced themselves that strength means never admitting weakness. So they carry stress silently, bury discouragement deeply, and keep moving even when their soul is exhausted.

Grandparents know this feeling.

Grandparents can carry a different kind of exhaustion. Some carry grief over aging bodies. Some carry burdens for children or grandchildren who are wandering from the Lord. Some spend nights praying and worrying and wondering if they failed somewhere along the way.

Some of you are exhausted from caring for aging parents.

Some are exhausted from financial stress.

Some are emotionally tired from years of disappointment.

Some are spiritually tired because you have been trying to carry burdens God never intended you to carry alone.

Christians trying to faithfully follow Jesus in a broken world know this feeling.

The common thread is this: somewhere along the way we begin living as though everything depends on us.

We keep working.

Keep carrying.

Keep striving.

Keep performing.

And slowly we stop resting in Christ.

Jesus does not merely invite sinful people to come to Him. He also invites weary people.

Matthew 11:28 ESV

28 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

If you are feeling weary today, know that you are not alone.

Jesus does not call us to nothingness though.

Matthew 11:29 ESV

29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

A yoke was something that guided and directed work.

Jesus is not calling us to passivity or laziness.

Jesus is not saying: “Do nothing.”

He is saying: “Stop carrying the wrong burden.”

He is calling us out of slavery to performance.

There is a massive difference between:

faithfulness

and

performance-driven identity.

Performance says:

“My worth depends on how well I succeed.”

Faith says:

“My identity rests securely in Christ, therefore I can faithfully obey without fear.”

One burden says:

“Everything depends on me.”

The other says:

“Christ is sufficient, therefore I can walk faithfully one day at a time.”

And that is why Jesus can finally say:

“My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Bringing this back specifically to motherhood -

Conclusion

Biblical motherhood matters deeply.

Womanhood matters deeply.

Faithfulness in the home matters deeply.

Spiritual influence in the church matters deeply.

But none of those things can bear the full weight of your identity.

Motherhood is a good gift, but it makes a terrible savior.

Family is a good gift, but it makes a terrible savior.

Children are a good gift, but they make terrible saviors.

A clean house, obedient kids, full schedules, good reputation, and people’s approval may all feel important in the moment, but none of them can carry the weight of your soul.

Only Jesus can do that.

And that is why His invitation is so beautiful.

He does not say, “Come to Me when you finally become enough.”

He does not say, “Come to Me when your house is in order.”

He does not say, “Come to Me when your children are doing well.”

He does not say, “Come to Me when you finally feel spiritually strong.”

He says:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

So weary mother, come to Jesus.

Weary father, come to Jesus.

Weary grandparent, come to Jesus.

Weary saint, come to Jesus.

Not because your responsibilities do not matter.

They do.

Not because obedience does not matter.

It does.

Not because faithfulness is unimportant.

It is deeply important.

But because you were never meant to carry those things apart from Him.

Jesus is inviting you to stop living like everything depends on you.

Because you are not God.

And that is not bad news.

That is good news.

So here is what I want to invite each of us to do this week.

At some point today, or maybe later this week, take a quiet moment before the Lord and ask this simple question:

“Lord, what am I carrying that You never asked me to carry?”

Maybe it is the pressure to be perfect.

Maybe it is the pressure to control your children’s future.

Maybe it is guilt over something you cannot go back and change.

Maybe it is comparison.

Maybe it is fear.

Maybe it is the belief that if you stop holding everything together, everything will fall apart.

Name that burden before the Lord.

And then pray something like this:

“Jesus, I am not enough for this. But You are. Help me be faithful today, and help me trust You with what only You can carry.”

That is a prayer weary hearts can pray every day.

Maybe many times a day.

“Lord, help me be faithful with what You have given me, and help me release what belongs to You.”

That is not giving up.

That is dependence.

That is not weakness in the worldly sense.

That is the beginning of true strength.

Because the Christian life is not built on the lie that we are enough.

It is built on the truth that Christ is enough.

When culture says, “Be perfect,” remember Jesus says, “Come to Me.”

When comparison says, “You are falling behind,” remember Jesus says, “Come to Me.”

When guilt says, “You have already failed,” remember Jesus says, “Come to Me.”

When exhaustion says, “You cannot keep going,” remember Jesus says, “Come to Me.”

And when your soul starts to believe that everything depends on you, preach the gospel to yourself again:

There is already a Savior.

And it is not me.

Christ is enough.

His grace is enough.

His mercy is enough.

His strength is enough.

And because He holds us, weary hearts can rest.

So come to Him.

Bring the burden.

Receive His grace.

Walk faithfully today.

And trust Him with what only He can carry.