How God Prepared Me for the Empty Nest Before I Even Knew It Was Coming

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It was in August 2023 that the house got quiet.

Not empty, not yet—but different. My son, freshly graduated from high school, had just started working with a large construction company based in a neighboring town. At first, I was grateful. He was close by, still tethered to home. We still had meals together, and I cooked his favorites whenever I could—cheesy burritos, his pasta, and chicken tenders. It brought me comfort to feed him, to feel like I still had a place in his daily routine. 

But then came Branson (I know it sounds silly but stay with me).

Just five weeks, they said. A job site that would give him real-world experience and a solid paycheck. He was excited—and honestly, I was too. But as he packed up and left at 4:30 a.m. that first Monday, I realized something deep in my bones: 

This is what it’s going to feel like when he’s really gone. 

And just like that, the ache began. 

Letting Go in the Light of Early Morning

He wasn’t a child anymore. He was a young man driving off before dawn with his work boots and his dreams. And I was a mom standing in the kitchen, clutching my coffee cup and wondering how I got here so fast.

He’d been away before—camping trips, vacations with friends’ families—but this was different. There were no parents, no chaperones, no supervision. Just him and the world.

And that’s when it hit me: God was preparing me. He was softening the edges of the heartbreak before it fully came. He was giving me a five-week practice run for the day my son would really move out. A holy heads-up. A whispered “I’m here, and I know this hurts.”

It was surreal. I found myself tidying his room—something I told myself I wouldn’t do. But I did. Sometimes because I missed him, sometimes because it was the one thing I could control. His room often looked like a tornado had blown through it, but while he was away, I cleaned it from top to bottom.

And, so I smiled through tears. 

When Love Looks Like Letting Go

I realized that even in my small acts of love—vacuuming the carpet, folding clothes, making his bed—I was transitioning. From full-time, hands-on Mom… to something new.

A praying Mom. A releasing Mom. A Mom who says, “God, go with him where I cannot.”

I still pray for him every day. For safety, strength, wisdom, and good choices. I pray for peace in my heart when the silence in his room feels too loud. And I pray for moms like me who are walking through this strange new season with shaky steps.

One of the verses that carried me through is from Ecclesiastes 3:

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
A time to plant and a time to uproot.”

The Practice Run God Gave My Heart

That August, I realized I had spent years planting. Watering. Nurturing. 
And now it was time to watch something bloom—even if it meant it was no longer growing in my garden. 

To the Mom who’s feeling the cracks form in her heart as her child prepares to leave—whether it’s five weeks or forever—know this: 

God sees you. He’s already preparing you. 
And you are never alone.