In November 2015, my mama went home to be with the Lord.
I was on a flight to Kenya when it happened.
By the time I landed, she was gone.
I was the last to know.
Again.
Just like when my daddy passed.
There is a particular ache that comes with being last.
A silence.
A helplessness.
A heartbreak that feels delayed… yet just as sharp.
The next morning, jet-lagged. Sleep deprived. Broken.
It was 5 a.m.
I sat at the dining table staring at her photograph.
The house was quiet.
My soul was not.
And then I sensed it.
A whisper.
Soft. Clear. Firm.
“Look at the top of the bookshelf.”
I was perplexed.
But I obeyed.
I believe the Holy Spirit speaks.
Sometimes not in thunder.
But in nudges.
I stood up.
At the very top of the bookshelf… was a note.
Written by my mama.
Weeks before she was admitted to hospital.
Before she became completely incapacitated.
Before we knew how little time we had left.
How did she know?
How did she know I would find it that morning?
My mama was the most prayerful woman I have ever known.
She battled many things.
But her faith only grew stronger.
She never gave up on God.
And she never gave up on her children.
Ten years later… today… I remembered that note.
Because 5 years ago today, I got divorced officially.
7 years ago I legally separated.
It had been a rough ride.
Very tough.
Very rough.
I thought I would cry in court.
I thought I would break down.
Instead… I smiled.
The judge was kind. Gracious.
She said “thank you” so many times.
And somehow, that small kindness felt like heaven reminding me…
You are seen.
I smiled because I remembered my mama’s words.
“My help comes from the Lord. He shall not allow my foot to be moved.”
Psalm 121 says:
“I lift up my eyes to the hills—
from where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.”
He does not slumber.
Not in 2015.
Not in a courtroom in 2021.
Not in your darkest night.
And definitely not today.
Today, I want to be like my mama.
Prayerful.
Protective.
Rooted.
Connected to God in a way that writes notes before storms come.
Because here is what I know now:
The Lord saw me then.
And He sees me now.
He knew that in November 2015, at 5 a.m., I would need that note.
And He knew that five years later, on the day my marriage officially ended, I would need to remember it.
God is not surprised by our pain.
He prepares provision ahead of time.
Sometimes the provision is a scripture.
Sometimes it is a whisper.
Sometimes it is a mother’s handwritten note waiting on a bookshelf.
If you are in a tough place today…
Hold on.
Do not let go.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)
He sees.
He knows.
He cares.
About you.
About your tears.
About your court dates.
About your silent 5 a.m. moments.
Today, I thought about my mama.
And I smiled.
Because faith outlives funerals.
Prayers outlive people.
And God outlives every storm.
Now go ahead.
Read Psalm 121.
Lift your eyes.
Your help is coming.
Your friend in the journey called LIFE!
ESTHER
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