Recently, I received a phone call from my son, Vito. The moment I heard his voice, I began singing “Happy Birthday” to him. It has become a tradition of sorts—one that reminds us that no matter the distance between us, we are still connected.
Vito has been incarcerated for a little over eight years now. On this day, he turned twenty-eight years old. As I listened to his voice on the other end of the phone, I couldn’t help but reflect on how much time has passed and how much life has been lived through phone calls, letters, prayers, and hope.
He is serving an eighteen-year sentence for a crime he maintains he did not commit. Regardless of where people stand on the circumstances, one thing remains true: eight years is a long time. It is a long time for a mother to miss birthdays, holidays, family dinners, and ordinary moments that most people take for granted.
Yet somehow, we have made it this far.
There have been days filled with frustration, disappointment, sadness, and uncertainty. There have also been moments of laughter, encouragement, and resilience. Through it all, we have learned how to maintain a relationship despite prison walls, visitation schedules, and the limitations that incarceration places on a family.
As his mother, I have learned that love does not stop because circumstances change. It adapts. It finds new ways to show up. Sometimes love looks like a phone call. Sometimes it looks like a letter. Sometimes it looks like simply answering the phone and singing “Happy Birthday” because you want your child to know that he is remembered, celebrated, and loved.
During our conversation, I shared something deeply personal with Vito. I told him about the fruit of the Spirit and how God had recently been dealing with me about my own heart.
For a while, I had been struggling with feelings of jealousy, envy, sadness, and despair. I found myself looking at what other people had accumulated—their homes, finances, relationships, and successes—instead of focusing on what God had already given me. Instead of being grateful, I was becoming distracted by comparison.
As those feelings grew, I noticed they were affecting the way I viewed and interacted with others. I became distant when I should have been loving. I became critical when I should have been kind. I became impatient with people who were not living according to God’s Word.
Then something unexpected happened.
As I reflected on the behavior of others, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t fully living according to God’s Word either.
That realization stopped me in my tracks.
It is easy to point out the shortcomings of others while overlooking our own. It is easy to identify someone else’s struggles while ignoring the condition of our own hearts. In that moment, God showed me that I needed to stop focusing on what everyone else was doing and take an honest look at myself.
Reality set in.
I realized that I needed forgiveness just as much as the people I was judging. I needed God’s grace just as much as those I thought should be doing better. So I asked God to forgive me.
Since then, I have been making a conscious effort to display the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
I am learning that the fruit is not something we talk about; it is something we live. It is displayed in how we treat people, how we respond when life is unfair, and how we love others even when they fall short.
Most importantly, I am learning that before we can help change the world around us, we must first allow God to change the heart within us.
When the call ended, I found myself sitting quietly, reflecting on the journey that brought us here. Twenty-eight years old. More than eight years behind bars. And despite everything, we are still standing.
Somehow, we have made it this far.
And perhaps that is what growth looks like—not perfection, but a willingness to be honest about where we are, ask God for forgiveness when we fall short, and continue moving forward with faith.
One conversation. One birthday. One reminder that God is still working on all of us.
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