05/10/2026
For those of us estranged from our children, Mother’s Day carries a sorrow that few people can truly understand. It is a grief filled with living memories. Our arms remember the weight of the children we once carried. Our hearts still instinctively reach for voices that no longer call our names. Love remains fully alive, yet it has nowhere to go.
Some moments, I make peace with the silence. Other moments, it breaks over me like a wave all over again.
I have asked God why more times than I can count. I have sat before Him with questions that never seemed to find language deep enough to hold them. Yet I continue returning to this truth:
“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit” (Psalm 34:18 NKJV).
God does not stand at a distance from our grief. He enters it. He sits with us in the silence, in the empty spaces, in the ache of relationships we never imagined would fracture. He remains present in rooms that now feel painfully quiet.
Tomorrow, many mothers will wake carrying the weight of an empty chair, an absent phone call, a missing card, or the unbearable silence of being forgotten by someone they still love with their whole heart.
I am praying for every mother who will quietly survive tomorrow while the world around her celebrates Mother's Day.
May the God who saw Hagar in the wilderness, El Roi, the God who sees, look upon us tenderly tomorrow. May He lift our heads when grief bends them low. May He hold together the pieces of us that sorrow keeps trying to scatter.
“You, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory and the One who lifts up my head” (Psalm 3:3 NKJV).
Perhaps this pain will never fully leave us on this side of heaven. Yet even here, God remains. Even here, He is merciful. Even here, He sees every tear that falls in secret.
You are not alone in this sorrow.
I am walking through it beside you. ❤️
