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...
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...
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...
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?
Today love is two pull-ups and two diapers at bedtime. Love is late nights and early mornings. Love is taking it one day at a time. Love is crying for no reason and being held. Love is holding hands in the dark without words, just thoughts.
Some days love is a romantic dinner. Love is a weekend...
It is so subtle, I hardly notice I’m being led to believe mothers are inadequate to make decisions for our children’s lives.
We are taught a doctor is the authority on our child’s health. A teacher is the authority on our child’s education. A pastor is the authority on our...
My word for this year, is “miss out.”
Not, “no.” Not, “say yes to the best.” Because I’ve done those things.
Every week I say no to opportunities, obligations, events, requests.
But it’s not enough.
The last three months I have been living my dream...