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I know you, Momma. You’re a lot like me. I see you in the halls at church or at the grocery store. I read your posts on Facebook. The look in your eyes is familiar, and I understand the longing in your voice. I identify with the ache in your heart.
You’re a mom but your babies are far from you.
Your children live in a different state or different country. Some serve in the military or the mission field. Some are in heaven. They are in your heart if not in your home.
I share a familiar sentiment with you – “what did we do so wrong that our babes would fly so far from the nest?”
Maybe we didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe we just happened to raise independent offspring who followed God’s leading to a far away land.
I don’t begrudge my own offspring of that. Who am I to stand in the way of their God-given dreams?
Like you, I wish I could meet my daughter for coffee on a random afternoon or invite my son over for a home-cooked meal after a long day of work. I so miss the day to day interaction with these two whom I love so much.
I envy the moms who are able to do so. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them, but, if I’m honest, there is a little envy.
It is a different season of life for us, so we wait patiently for the phone calls or text messages. We pray without ceasing for the lives of our children. Are they safe? Are they following in the way they were brought up? We plan visits, eagerly awaiting them and mourning when they end. Sometimes we are sad when they arrive because we know the visit will go by too fast. We have the drive to the airport memorized.
I know you. We are sisters. The Sisterhood of the long-distance mommas.