It’s been eight months since my mom took her last breath on earth and entered into her eternal resting place.
Eight, long, motherless months.
I expected holidays to be hard, as they should, because a piece of the family is missing. The spot where they once sat, ate, laughed, took pictures, and made memories is now empty.
Just like a piece of my heart is empty.
The holiday no one prepared me for was my birthday. A day that’s to be celebrated. It’s the day I took my first breath here on earth. I should be happy—another year down.
My birthday will never be the same without my mom here.
The woman who the Lord chose to be my mother is now in Heaven alongside Him. What a joy that must be for her but what sadness it brings me. Sadness because my birthday is just another reminder she’s gone. A day to be celebrated is now a day of extreme grief.
I will grieve on my birthday because the woman who carried me in her womb is no longer here. I will grieve the memories we shared from past birthdays.
I have to remember that the Lord knew me before my mother knew me. The Lord has a plan for my life and the Lord’s plan is faithful. Even in the valley, He is good. Just as He knew when I would take my first breath here on this earth, He knew when my mother would take her last.
I thank the Lord every day for bringing me into this world and choosing my mother for me.
He formed me in her womb, and He knew who I would be. As Psalm 139:16 states, He carefully knitted me and His eyes saw my unformed body.
He saw me. He knew me. He still sees me and He still knows me.
So in this hour of grief as I celebrate another year of life, I will attempt to rejoice over the life I had with my mother.
I do not know the hour or the day or the second that I will breathe my last breath on this earth, but I will spend every second I have striving to be half the mother my mother was.
Just as He chose my mother for me, He chose me for my children.