When Loving Your Child Happens From a Distance

There’s a particular kind of grief that comes from loving your child while living apart from them. It’s quiet, ongoing, and often misunderstood. This space exists because that kind of love doesn’t disappear — it learns how to breathe differently.

When you’re a mother walking through estrangement, the world doesn’t always know what to do with your pain. There’s no timeline for healing, no clear path forward, and often no space to speak honestly without being judged or misunderstood. Some days you carry hope. Other days, you carry the ache. Most days, you carry both.

Faith in this season can feel complicated. You may still believe in God’s goodness while questioning His silence. You may pray and still feel unsure. And yet, even here — especially here — grace is present, not as an answer, but as a quiet strength that holds you when there are no answers.

If this is your reality, you are not failing. You are loving in the hardest way possible. Loving without access. Loving without resolution. Loving with a heart that keeps showing up, even when it hurts.

You don’t have to explain yourself here. You don’t have to fix anything. You are allowed to sit, to grieve, to hope, and to rest — all at the same time.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18