12/04/2025
My mom has been my biggest supporter since the day I showed up on her couch detoxing, shaking, terrified, and completely shattered. I was a grown woman who had run out of answers, out of options, and out of strength. I didn’t know how to get sober. I didn’t know who I was anymore. But she never flinched. She made room for me not just on her couch, but in her heart, again.
She didn’t give me lectures. She didn’t shame me. She didn’t drag up every mistake I’d ever made. Something im not the beet at.
She just loved me.
And God, in His mercy, intervened in ways only He could
He sent me to jail yes, jail because sometimes God’s rescue mission comes wrapped in consequences. While I was sitting behind those bars, scared and unsure if I’d ever get my life back, my mom was still there. Few dollars to losd up the phone with money I didn’t deserve to call her and my kids. Sending me a few bucks for instant coffee and honey buns, ( jail necessity) just so I had something small that made me feel human. Praying over me when I couldn’t pray for myself.
And on September 1st, 2017, when I walked out after 30 days behind bars, broken but clean… she was there again. Arms wide open. No conditions. No judgment. Just love the kind of love that looks a whole lot like Jesus Christ Himself.
My mom taught me what Christlike love really looks like.
Not the kind that pats you on the back when you’re winning…
but the kind that walks into the pit with you when you’ve fallen.
The kind that waits on the side of the road just like the Savior taught in the story of the Prodigal Son ready to run when you finally start limping home.
She has watched me lose jobs, through relationships, uproot my life more times than I can count. She let me dream big even when my track record said I’d probably crash again. She saw my faults and didn’t turn away she helped me face them. She reminded me of grace over and over until I started to believe I was worthy of it.
My mom has been the steady voice telling me,
“Rachael, the Lord is not done with you.”
She encouraged me to walk with Christ long before I had the courage to take those steps.
She didn’t just mother me
she discipled me.
She showed me what a strong Christian woman looks like… patient, principled, grounded, forgiving, and full of faith.
And now, as one of the youngest ones in our family, I get the blessing of seeing her almost every day. I get the privilege of watching how she lives, how she loves, how she shows up for people… especially for me. This picture isn’t just a picture it’s a reminder of redemption, mercy, and the goodness of God working through a mother who refused to give up on her daughter.
I pray every day that I can be this same example to my own children.
A mother whose love isn’t based on conditions.
A mother who stands firm in faith, even when her kids wander.
A mother who sees the good in them just like my mom always saw in me even when I couldn’t see an ounce of good in myself.
I hope my kids know that no matter how far life takes them, no matter the mistakes they make, no matter the roads they walk down…
I will love them with the same fierce, Christ-centered, unconditional love my mom poured into me.
Because if my story proves anything, it’s this:
Sometimes the Savior sends us help through the hands of the people who never stop loving us.
And for me?
That was and still is my mom.
