For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. 1 Corinthians 13:12

There is a hole in my chest where my heart used to be. I think some people call this grief.

Almost a month ago, my mom passed away. She’s spent weeks in Heaven now, and we’ve spent too many days without her.

I know that there are many emotions I have not yet been able to process or work through. At this point, it’s almost impossible to fully understand that I will never again hug my mom or hear her laugh.

I have to keep reminding myself that my mom is gone. She’s no longer here. And she’s not coming back.

The last time I saw my mom, she couldn’t talk. Her eyes moved listlessly around the room. Pain no longer touched her face, but a weariness had settled into her cheeks and bones. I stood with my grandparents, my sister Raeya, and my dad. We sang over her, and laughed and cried and prayed.

Then I drove home. About half an hour later, I was standing in the kitchen, heating up water to make tea.

That’s when the text came.

She was gone.

I didn’t cry. Not then. I just felt numb, maybe even empty. For half a year, we’d known this moment would come. Now that it was here, I didn’t know what to do with it.

I kissed my mom goodbye that day.

The following morning, I drove back to my mom’s house to spend the day with my family and close friends. I walked alone into her empty bedroom and looked for her Bible. Her pen was stuck between the pages.

The pen marked the passage of Luke 22. Mom had underlined verse 42 which says, “Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.”

“Oh God, God.” I whispered again and again, sliding to the floor by her bed and holding the Bible tightly to my chest. “My God.”

This was the verse God had given to me weeks before. This was the promise I wanted to give back to God—that whatever happened, I would still love, trust, and serve Him.

The day my mom passed away, I texted my best friend Alessia right away. Within seconds, she texted back one word: coming. That’s the sign of a true friend. When you need them, they drop everything and come to you.

But my relationship with God is a step beyond friendship. When I need Him, He does not reply by saying, “Coming.” Instead, He immediately wraps His arms around me, and says, “I’m here.”

Psalm 46 reminds us that God is our refuge and our strength. Even if the whole world falls apart around us, God is within us, and He will help us to stand even as the ground sinks.

The beginning of verse 10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Despite the hurting within and the chaos around me, despite all uncertainties and troubles, I must choose to stand still and remember who God is and what He has done for me.

He is my Father, my King, my Friend, and my Healer. He is the greatest Physician. He did not take away my mom’s cancer, but He took away her suffering and her pain. He carried her home to be with Him. And someday soon, after this short life fades away, I will see her face to face again.

Because of God, I can experience both grief and hope at the same time. There is joy in the midst of the sorrow, and healing in the midst of the hurting. I pray that no matter what struggles you are facing you will find hope and healing in God’s arms.

He is with you at all times, waiting for you to surrender all at His feet so that you might find peace.

He is waiting to be your hope.