Life Without Mother

This past week, I had a small undercurrent of anxiety. It started with a wave last weekend. I took a moment (in a moment of loneliness) to look ahead to the coming week. Bad idea. Fear washed over me. If I can barely make it through a weekend engaging with only one to two people in a city full of people, how will I manage to deal with what has traditionally been a weekend of celebration with friends (a.k.a. my birthday weekend)? I don’t have any plans! What if no one is available that weekend? What if I just spiral that weekend and choose hermitude over an attempt at socializing?

So much of those fears erupted out of my current struggle with loneliness. (It’s very difficult to live by myself for the first time in a new city during a pandemic, after living with at least one other person all of my life.) The sweet memories of the past four years where friends and family just surrounded me with love on my birthday and the anniversary of Mom’s death only further amplified those fears. The past four years were wonderful. Freshman year: From a breakfast date at 7:15am just because one of my (now best) friends wanted to get me breakfast before her 8:00am class, to her and another friend spending the midmorning/afternoon hours taking me for lunch and cupcakes and exploring, to another friend taking me to dinner, to a worship night with my sorority sisters — one of whom then took it upon herself to host my official “party” at her place so we could use the party box my dad had sent for the occasion. Then sophomore year, though my actual birthday was spent in a coffee shop (actually one of my favorite places on earth, so really, a win there) studying, friends were there to pre-game and post-game my birthday. Junior year — my 21st birthday — my dear friends made a day of it with me around all of my usual Sunday business. Finally, senior year my birthday came in the initial onslaught of the pandemic. BUT, again, my wonderful friends stood by me, and braved some of my early attempts at from-scratch cooking to celebrate some of my favorite foods in honor of my birthday.

This is the thing though. When I really look back — not just at the grand moments of my birthdays, the amazing times with friends, the absolute lavishness of God’s grace on me — when I look back to the days before those times, the month leading up to that moment — I had the same fears. Freshman year, I didn’t even know what to expect. I was beyond anxious about my birthday, much less the day after. Sophomore year was only a tad easier with the hopes of more birthday fun, though the fact that two years had passed made it all the more real. Junior year, with my twenty first birthday, there was definitely more confidence as I planned a little more ahead of time. But, senior year — it was almost like freshman year all over again. With the pandemic, so many of my closest friends were scattered to their family homes, or simply unable to come out of their own house due to quarantine. I was terrified of being alone. And I even expressed my fear of what this year, right now, would be like. I recognized the trial run of being more isolated than I had the previous three years. BUT, I made it. God came through, as He always does.

He came through with a plethora of friends freshman year.

He came through with friends and a new homely atmosphere sophomore year.

He came through with my closest friends taking walks around a park and a drive to another city and back my junior year.

He came through with companionship in the midst of isolation my senior year.

He will come through this year.

It will look different than years past, because I’m in a new chapter with a new job, new friends, new home, all the new things. But He will come through.

So, the undercurrent of anxiety is nothing new. And neither is the grace of my God.

Father, help me to walk in faith, knowing and believing that You come through. That You are with me through these moments and You know this road. You’ve got it all mapped out. And the final destination is Your Throne Room!