Today, June 5, 2024 marks 5 years since my mom went home to be with Jesus. As you’re reading this, I’m on a beach somewhere with my favorite latte, a few good books, and lots of words to be exchanged with God. Gratitude for the gift that is having Jane Boline as my mom. Grief that her story and mine didn’t include her healing on this side of heaven. Groaning for the desires unmet and prayers seemingly unanswered. Glory for all He’s seen me through over the last 1,826 when it felt like all hope was lost.
There’s so much I want to say and so much that I’ll never be able to put into words. The complicated, gut-wrenching, heartache I felt in 2019 and still today can be summed up in 3 words: I miss her.
I miss her laugh. I miss her gentle spirit. I miss her animated expressions when I tell her a story. I miss her asking “what could we have for dinner tonight?” I miss her smile, her hugs, and her Yeti full of half and half tea. I miss her conducting symphonies to classical music while she cleaned the dishes. I miss her prayers and her worship music. I miss her shocked expression whenever the slightest thing surprised her. I miss her warmth and her love for sweets. I miss hearing her talk on the phone or quote her favorite movies, even if they weren’t the exact quotes. I miss her singing and her wisdom. I mostly miss her friendship. The bond only we had.
You’ve heard me describe my mom, my relationship with her, and her journey with cancer in so many episodes, and if I’m honest, you’ll still hear me talk about all of her and all of it, for many years to come. While I’m so deeply aware that my loss pales in comparison to so many more dire circumstances globally, losing my mom was my greatest fear realized. Coming to terms with that and with my life on the other side of death the last 5 years has been a harsh reality and a reckoning in almost every area of my life and heart.
If you would have asked me what my life would look like 5 years from June 5, 2019, I wouldn’t have come up with my life right now. In beautiful blessings and excruciating heartbreaks, I couldn’t describe how my story has been shaped to this day in 2024. Walking out this intense loss and grief in my 20’s has felt clumsy and lonely. Navigating the formative and foundational years without my mom’s wisdom, her stories, and her hugs has felt merciless. Experiencing the long-lasting impact of trauma on my mind, my body, my spirit has felt disconcerting.
But, learning to lean on people and ask for what I need has been comforting. Finding new joys and new perspective in my unanticipated reality has been challenging yet exhilarating. Being welcomed into new families and new traditions has been overwhelmingly kind. Being brutally honest about my fears and disappointments with family, friends, counselors, and most importantly, God has been liberating and life-giving.
Scrolling through social media, it’s easy to feel like the last 5 years lack the milestones marked by so many people in their mid to late 20’s. I can easily spiral down a path of “God, do you even want good things for me?” when I see so many people hitting the same birthdays I am with new houses, new relationships, new babies, and just new life! While mine can feel stuck in the same cycles of grief and loss— beyond even my mom.
None of that is to discredit my beautiful life— the home I love, the friends I cherish so deeply, the family that cares so infinitely, but my milestones throughout the last 5 years include the first holidays and birthdays without her, new places I’ve traveled that she never saw, new friends she’s never met, stories I wish I could share with her, and losses I can’t process with my best friend.
But God, in His mercy and infinite grace, has been my Shepard through what seems like this stormy season of life. And He hasn’t let me go. Even when I’ve kicked and screamed. It’s been hard-fought and in conscious decisions that ultimately lead to surrender back into the loving heart and character of my Heavenly Father. He has held me and helped me withstand the winds. And He’s given me vision to see the sunrises of new dreams and sunsets of peace that he’s never left me.
If I could sit next to the Ellie 5 years ago that sat on the curb down the street breathlessly wailing, I’d offer her so much encouragement. She wouldn’t be able to handle the truth of what losing her mom would cost her or the challenges that lie up ahead. But I’d love for her to take heart that she is being developed and discipled into the woman God created her to be. I’d tell her:
“You’re resilient. You’re building up even more compassion and capacity to love others well. You’re learning to listen. You’re appreciating the simple joys of truly living life and not just wading through experiences. You’re observant, empathetic, and look for ways you can fill other people’s needs. You’re a great friend— both because you’ve learned how to be from the community around you and because you want to offer what others couldn’t. You’re a safe place for people. You’ll have to say some hard goodbyes, but you’ll also learn the power of boundaries. You can trust your gut, because you have the power of the Holy Spirit within you.
Yes— you’ve got a lot of emotions and feel things so deeply. But so was David, and God called him a man after God’s own heart. You’re braver than you think and trailblazing in ways that feel unseen but will leave a lasting impact on generations to come. Your questions aren’t signs of doubt and unbelief, they’re signs that you want to press in further towards what and who you’ve committed your life to. The world feels shaken and often upside down, but the foundation of your life remains sturdy. People will forget and move on, but God holds every single one of your tears. You seek laughter and pleasant things. You’ll cry tears from laughing too hard, you’ll scream songs at the top of your lungs, and you’ll savor feeling young. You’re flawed and hurt and sometimes paralyzingly lonely, but that’s what makes you human and in need of a Savior who is perfect and peaceful and ever-present.
You were built for hard, because His power is made perfect in your weakness. You don’t have to have the answers or figure it all out. You will be on this path of surrender for the rest of your life, but your Creator has amazing people and good things in every area of your life. You are growing, even though this just feels like groaning. You will miss your mom every day of your life. But, you will make it, because He is always with you and always sustains you.”
I needed those words then and repeat little versions of these to myself now.
In John 16, Jesus tells his disciples that their grief will turn to joy. In Verse 33, He says, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
It is only by His grace and my desire for ultimate peace in Him that I continue on. I recently listened to Katherine Wolf on my favorite podcast That Sounds Fun, in an episode that encouraged me and broke me to my core. Katherine’s story beautifully displays her confidence in those two principles: in this world, we will have trouble, but in Him we have peace.” If you don’t know her story, I cannot encourage you enough to read her book Hope Heals, co-authored with her husband, or pick up her latest read Treasures in the Dark (which is most likely what I’m reading on the beach now).
In the podcast episode, she said a line that’s stuck with me: “You’ll never move on, but you will move forward.”
That’s been the journey the Lord has walked with me over the last half decade. First, unraveling my unhealthy beliefs about Him and my disappointments in Him. I had to brutally confront the reality that God does heal, but didn’t choose to heal my mom physically. God is all-knowing and all-powerful, and all-loving, and THIS story that I am living is his best for me. Which honestly, is still a work in progress.
But as I’ve continued to pour my heart out and keep showing up, He’s graciously showed me I can trust Him and His character above all else. The last year has been more about moving forward in my own story. Through spiritual mentors, counseling, prayer sessions, and digging in further in the Word, I’m reclaiming the parts of my story that feel overwritten by cancer.
My mom and I share so many of the same qualities— even physically, which is always a gift when people stop to tell me how much I resemble her! Part of walking out my grief has been separating the narratives that my story will look exactly like hers, and redefining how my giftings and wirings will serve God and others in fresh ways. Separating that her story is very much intertwined with mine: we share so many of the same main characters, the same settings, many of the same circumstances, and we’re united on the same these: We want the purpose of our life to be to know Him and Make Him known.
But the details are different. The peaks and the pitfalls and the protagonist’s struggles are each unique. I’ve lived with the fear that my mom’s life and legacy will fade, and this past year has been about trusting God with her testimony and with mine. While I will continue to share the wisdom I’ve gained being Jane’s daughter, my life and mission is singularly focused on what God has called me to.
If the ultimate goal of the Christian’s life is to be transformed to be more like Jesus, we learn how in Hebrews 12:2, which says “He learned obedience through what he suffered.”
I used to think that seemed cruel and harsh, but when we think of obedience in its purest form, at its core it’s about protection and trust. A parent wants their child to listen to their advice and guidance, because they want to protect their children from harm and show their child that they have a safe place within their parents arms. Although my parenting is limited to the likes of my golden retriever, I see this so clearly when nurturing sweet Annie. I don’t scold her when she runs away from the yard or tries to eat something on the street, because I want to rob her of joy, adventure, and tasty treats. I command her to stay close and avoid the remnants of a kid’s chocolate cone, because I want her to stay out of the way of oncoming cars and tummy troubles in the middle of the night. But it is in those scary moments that she runs across the street or that she has to wake me up to go outside that she realizes I had her best in mind the entire time. She’s much quicker to listen when I tell her to sit and stay with me, or leave the stray fry when I tell her “don’t touch that”. She more readily recognizes my desire to protect her and she’s loyal to my heart that is so for her good.
I believe that’s what’s illustrated in Hebrews 12. That’s the obedience I’ve learned, though I’m ever-faltering. But I want the confidence to know that in every trial or inconvenience that Jesus is with me, and his heart is so for my good.
My mom’s story and mine are different. But I want to be known like she is remembered: always with a smile, a good sense of fashion, always ready for a good meal, constantly with her Bible open, and most importantly, a dear friend of Jesus.
I want to be known like Jane Boline, but in perfectly unique Ellie Boline ways.
As I sit here writing, I’m listening to The People Tour Live from Madison Square Garden by Hillsong United. Joel and Taya’s voices are shouting over me, “Bring him praise for what he’s gonna do next. Are you ready?”
For the first time in a long time, I am. I am expectant. I am hopeful, if not a little afraid, of what he’s going to do next.
I still have questions and prayers unanswered and places in my life that I am desperate for His movements, but I want to walk out the story God has for me and become the woman He’s called me to be.
On June 5, 2024, the pain feels even deeper than it did 5 years ago, because it’s filled with the little losses that have accompanied her absence along the way. I love and miss her more so deeply sometimes it threatens to cut off my air supply. But today, I also grieve with gratitude for who my mom is, for what she instilled in me throughout my 24 years, and the prayers she prayed that are continually being answered. Her biggest being that I would continue to grow in relationship with Jesus.
I find so much comfort in Romans 5:3-5, “Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
Her story is not mine. Mine is not yours. But I hope you can listen along to these stories and find a friend and encourager that will sit with you and encourage you as we walk more closely with Jesus. If Romans 5:3-5 is true in my story, it can be true in yours too.
Thank you for being here and sharing in my story. And mama, I cannot wait to be reunited in glory one day. I love you to the moon and back.
xox,
ellie
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