There are no words. No words for the grief. The pain. The undeniable, gnawing pain that comes with knowing I won’t ever see my mother on this earth again… that I won’t be able to hear her tell me, “Aw Kris,” or “I love you so much,” or “You’ll always be my baby.”
When we moved to Idaho I always assumed that we would go back to visit. We would move down south and be close enough. Yet God had other plans.
And here I am… crying and empty.
It’s been 5 1/2 years since I last got to hug my mother.
5 1/2 long years.
For the past year I didn’t talk to my mother, and up until last month I didn’t get to hear her voice. I won’t go into detail because the details are too painful to share.
Sin is destructive. It can tear apart families and it did mine.
My mother is with Jesus and my father now and for that I am grateful. She professed Jesus as her Lord and Savior on the phone with me after we moved to Idaho. She and I spent uncountable hours on the phone together talking about Jesus and God’s Word. I will never forget that precious time.
My mother was my biggest fan whether I was singing or just acting silly. She read everything I wrote and begged for more. She wasn’t perfect, as no mom is, but when it comes to mother’s, I was truly blessed to have a mom that wanted me… that loved me and that believed in me.
I will carry that with me forever.