As Mother’s Day approaches and I find myself on the verge of another family milestone, I feel the absence of my mother in a deep and tender way. It’s been six years since she passed, yet there are still moments when grief shows up quietly, unannounced, but familiar.
This time of year has a way of stirring both gratitude and ache at the same time.
I want to take a moment to honor my mother, and also celebrate mothers everywhere, especially those whose quiet sacrifices often go unseen.
I became a mother at a very young age, still learning myself while stepping into one of life’s greatest responsibilities. In many ways, I was growing up and raising children at the same time, holding on to the lessons my own mother had already planted in me.
My father passed when I was very young, around the age of four, so my mother raised me as a single mom. She was strong and steady, intentional in the way she parented. She carried wisdom, resilience, grace, and yes, like all of us, she also carried some pain.
As a young girl, she would read Scripture aloud to my great-grandmother. That love for God never left her. She introduced me to Jesus and taught me the importance of prayer. Because of her, and my great-grandmother, I always knew we were covered in prayer. Looking back, I realize those prayers became a spiritual inheritance that still carries me today.
My mother was full of wisdom. She worked hard, cooked meals from scratch, and still made time to care for others. She carried both strength and softness in the same hands.
And through it all, you never questioned whether you were loved.
I miss her smile.
I miss her touch.
I miss the way she called my name.
I miss our conversations about the Bible.
There is a kind of loss that comes from losing both parents that is hard to put into words. At times, it feels like walking through life without the covering you once knew, navigating milestones, holidays, and everyday moments without the voices that once anchored you. There are moments when it simply feels like absence.
One of the greatest gifts my mother gave me was permission to grow. She once told me:
“Take what you like that I did as a mother, and disregard the things you don’t.”
There was so much humility in that. So much grace. So much freedom in that kind of love.
So this Mother’s Day, I want to honor the quiet sacrifices of mothers everywhere, the sleepless nights, the unseen prayers, the emotional strength, the constant giving of self that so often goes unrecognized.
To every mother: you are seen. You are valued. You are appreciated more than words can express.
And to those who are missing their mothers, grieving a parent, or carrying quiet pain this season, I see you too!
May God bring comfort to your heart and remind you that love like a mother’s never truly leaves us.
