To the Motherless on Mother’s Day

As I kneel before the mountains of the vastness of my God I’m speechless. I ran here so I could have a place to cry. For once I was going to let myself feel it. I was going to let it out. Yet no matter how hard I tried to feel anguish, God kept it from me.

Mother’s Day is usually rough for me. I have a biological mother, but to me, she is not a mother. This is mostly because her actions are not selfless, loving, and caring. They are selfish, conceited, and conditional. She has abandoned me, forsaken me, and hurt me beyond words.

She threatened the life of my handicapped brother and put pressure on him to support her emotionally and financially. Parents shouldn’t do that.

She fought with me and my siblings on holidays just to receive sympathy and play the victim. Parents shouldn’t do that.

She committed a felony, went to jail, and didn’t talk to me for 7 months.

She calls me today, on Mother’s Day, to tell me that she is jobless, homeless, and living in her car.

 I have seen people live like this through the homeless ministry in Phoenix. It is a horrific, devastating state of being.

In reaction to this news, I ran. I ran to the edge of my neighborhood, and I encountered God’s magnificence.

I was humbled by the vastness of the mountain range that lay before me. I ran here so I could have a place to cry. For once I was going to let myself feel it. I was going to let it out. Yet no matter how hard I tried to feel anguish, God kept it from me.

How can I feel anguish when there’s such promise and hope? I tried to feel the hurt, but all I can say, is that God lifted the burden from my shoulders.

Instead of feeling depressed, I feel lifted: like I’m soaring on wings like eagles.
I can’t help but smile and no matter how hard I try to suppress it, it forces itself onto the crevices of my cheeks.
I can’t help but feel like something’s wrong with me to feel okay about this. What I know, is that in the vastness of the mountains in front of me, I see God’s hands. I know that the hands that form the brawling clouds above me and commanded the mountains into being, have a hold of my life, and that of my mom’s.

I have no control. So why should I worry?

There will most likely be a season when I will feel it. But right now, I simply hope. I pray for delivery for my mom, but I also pray a praise: I thank God from the bottom of my heart that my mom has a car, that she’s able to sleep, she’s still breathing, and that there’s light at the end of the tunnel.

All I can do right now, and what I will always do, is trust in God and do the next right thing. And I can only be a model to my mom and urge her to do the same. Just like my dad chose to do the right thing for his children and overcome alcoholism, my mom can choose to humble herself before the Lord and live out His will for her life. If she trusts Him, lives out His commands, and pursues Him, goodness will come of this.

I know that so many people are going through horrible things right now. I know that we all have our own struggles and “homeless moms” to worry about. But what I urge you to know, is that there is a being out there who loves you so much that He sent His son to suffer on the cross for you so that you could feel freedom. So that you could soar on wings like eagles in the midst of turmoil and adversity. He gives you that option. He holds that life line out to you. I urge you to grab it. Take hold of it. Because it is what’s saving me.

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” – 1 Peter 5:7


Please visit My Testimony for my full story and how God has worked in my life.


One Comment Add yours

  1. You are an amazing woman.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s