Who am I Without My Kids?
Who Am I Without My Kids? Facing the Empty Nest as a Christian Mom
For 30+ years, my life has revolved around raising kids. Five kids, to be exact. From diaper blowouts and soccer games to high school graduations and wedding planning, it’s been a blur of “Mom, can you…” and “Mom, where’s my…” and “Mom, I need you.”
Now, with my youngest about to turn 18 and preparing to leave for college, the house is getting quieter. I already feel lonely. I’m worried I’ll have too much time on my hands. Sure, I’ve got ideas—finally turning the guest room into a craft room, training for a marathon (maybe), getting control of the TV remote. But will I actually do these things? And what if I do them, and it still doesn’t fill the ache?
Who am I… literally, who am I without my kids?
If you’re asking the same question, you’re not alone.
You Are Still God’s Beloved Daughter
When we become mothers, it’s easy to let our identity get completely wrapped up in motherhood. It’s beautiful, sacrificial, holy work. But now, in this season, God gently reminds us:
“See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” Isaiah 49:16, NIV
You are still seen, known, and loved by God, even when no one is calling out “Mom!” in the hallway.
You are not forgotten just because the calendar is emptier. Your worth is not based on the noise in your house but on the One who calls you His.
Your Purpose Doesn’t Retire
Sometimes we fear we’ve served our “purpose” already, and now we’re left to wander around Hobby Lobby and wait for grandbaby visits. But Scripture says:
“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:10
God still has good works for you to do—today, tomorrow, and in this new season. Whether it’s mentoring a younger mom, serving in your church, writing that book you’ve been dreaming about, or simply learning to rest in His presence, your purpose continues.
It’s Okay to Grieve (and Dream)
The ache of the empty nest is real. Jesus wept (John 11:35). He understands grief, even in seasons that others might call “exciting.” You are allowed to feel sadness, and you are allowed to miss your children deeply.
But let’s also remember: God can birth new dreams in this season.
Maybe it’s time to:
· Finally start that Bible study you’ve wanted to host.
· Travel with your spouse or a group of friends.
· Volunteer with a cause that breaks your heart.
· Write letters to your grandchildren sharing your faith.
· Take a class and learn something new.
This isn’t the end; it’s a new chapter God is writing in your story.
Trusting God with Your Children (and Yourself)
One of the hardest parts of the empty nest is the loss of control. You can’t fix everything, and you can’t be there for every decision they make. It can lead to anxiety if you let it.
But here’s the truth:
“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7, NIV
And not just your anxiety about yourself, but your anxiety about your kids. God loves them even more than you do. You can trust Him to guide them, protect them, and draw them close—even when you’re not there to micromanage (or rescue).
A Prayer for the Empty Nest
Friend, if you’re feeling the ache today, let’s pray together:
Lord, I thank You for the years I’ve spent raising my children. I thank You for the laughter, the lessons, and even the tears. I surrender this next season to You. Help me to trust You with my children as they step into adulthood, and help me to trust You with my own future. Show me who I am without the daily tasks of motherhood, and help me to embrace the woman You have created me to be. Birth new dreams in me, and let me find joy in Your presence and purpose in Your plans. Amen.
You Are Not Alone
You’re not the first mom to face the empty nest, and you won’t be the last. Reach out to a friend, join a women’s Bible study, and most importantly, stay connected with Jesus. You are still needed, still loved, and still called for a purpose.
Who are you without your kids?
You are God’s beloved daughter. A woman with purpose. A woman who is learning to embrace a new season with faith, grace, and a hint of joyful anticipation.
And yes, you finally get the TV remote.