I am the pinch-lipped mom.
I want to smile at my children but I don’t have it in me. I’m exhausted. Tired. Worn down.
I am the pinch-lipped mom.
Maybe it’s the meltdown in the grocery isle.
The constant back talk. The 6am wake ups demanding snacks and attention.
I am the pinch-lipped...
When did it become noble to say, “I’m doing it for me?”
When did it become wrong to do something for someone else?
To do something for no other reason, than that it brings someone you love joy.
“I’m doing it for myself. I’m doing it because it makes me feel...
Some of us can feel guilty our babies came tumbling earth-side one after another faster than you can say 1,2,3.
Almost like we took those precious moments of solitude away from our first-borns—children who will never remember life without another.
But then I remember Kyla.
She came into my...
I’m the only one that sees him get four children dressed for church each Sunday so I can have extra time to get ready. Clean dirty diapers without mentioning it. Buckle them all in their car seats so I don’t have to.
I’m the only one who knows he thanks me for dinner when...
I worried I wouldn’t like being a mother.
All I heard and saw of motherhood was chaos and survival, pain and loss, no sleep, no sex, and the end of good times.
Except for Mommy.
She gave me hope.
Hope that motherhood could be rich with joy. Hope that I could still have a romantic marriage. Hope...
I was created to be the joyful Mother of children. (Psalm 113:9) Not the anxious mother. Not the frazzled mother. Not the overwhelmed mother . . . the JOYFUL mother.
I was created to be a mother that doesn’t just feel happy when things are going right, but has a deep supernatural joy when...
He gently leads those that are with young . . . but how often do I follow?
How often do I lay in bed listening to the Accuser tell me I haven’t done enough? Instead of reminding myself I don’t have to “do” because He has already done?
He gently leads those that are with...
For months I’ve felt myself cracking.
My body. My mind. My emotions.
I thought I knew who I was—what I wanted to be. But it all became so fuzzy, so hopeless.
Each morning, I’d get up, tie the pieces together, and keep blindly charging into the fog. Praying for a light at the end...
Sometimes we have to give up a second-rate dream to raise a first-rate family.
It’s tempting to think we could run faster and farther by by ourselves. But when did faster and farther become the goal?
Each step I take with my children is infused with sweet richness. Each step is one of...
Realize that from day one, he’s wired to be self-reliant. Don’t change that. – Harrison
My son turned four this month, and already he has me catching my breath as I watch him jump off high objects, flip on the trampoline, and show me what he whittled with his pocket knife.
My child is not a statistic. They are not a growth chart. They are not a series of boxes I check that guarantee a happy healthy adult.
Yet we live in a standardized world that attempts to eliminate the influence of a parent’s intuition—where anyone can look at a graph and believe they...
At first I was upset at her, but then I was upset at myself.
She assumed these things about my husband because I was silent.
No one sees. No one knows.
But I do.
So I’m saying it.
I stopped writing much about him because it felt unrelateable.
But if I don’t speak who will?