He meets us where we are…

I’m going to be real candid here- This past week tried to take me out.

We had the youngest having seizures, the middle with some mystery illness, the oldest not feeling her best, the mama with a shifting kidney stone, a hurricane that leaked water all underneath our dining room floor, and a trip to Duke… on top of regular life and bills and appointments and school and work.

By the time we made it home from Duke (after having our girl laid out in the grass on the side of the interstate as she seized and vomited everywhere) to our other sick children and my husband left on military orders for the weekend, I was ready to throw in the towel.  If you drove by my house, you just may have seen me waving the white flag out the window.  I. WAS. DONE.

So when Saturday morning rolled around- at 5:30 when my no-sleeping child decided it was time to get up- and the husband was gone and the older kids were arguing and the youngest was having tantrums of epic proportions and my to-do list was a mile long, all that was on my mind was to at least get a fast shower in before we had to leave the house.  And at the point the only way I saw that happening was to turn a movie on so that *hopefully*  no one would cause bodily harm to anyone while I washed.

As I stepped into the bathroom, you can imagine my surprise as I felt an overwhelming urge to open my Bible.  With all that was going on in the house and all that I had to do, the last thing on my mind was to sit down and read Scripture at that moment.  I didn’t have time for that!  We had somewhere to be.  I couldn’t trust the kids alone.  My mind was scattered in a million different directions.  It just was not the time.  But as I tried to argue it away, the Lord kept pressing, kept calling me to come close, kept whispering to my heart to just be still for a moment.

I conceded. I crept into my closet and grabbed one of my “other” Bibles (you know, the ones that haven’t been worn in good yet), and I shut the door behind me and said, “Okay, Lord, here I am.”

And do you know what happened? HE SHOWED UP! He led me straight to the Book of Psalms, to Psalm 65. And as I read those words He spoke life into my weary heart. So many words of that passage spoke so much truth, but the Lord had a message just for me in verse 9… You care for the land and water it; You enrich it abundantly. The streams of God are filled with water to provide the people with grain, for so You have ordained it.

Now, I’ll be honest, this is one of the verses I normally just skim right over. But God stopped me right there, and reminded me that this verse was for me.

He cares for me.

He waters me.

He enriches me.

And He enriches me abundantly. That word abundantly means “plentifully; in large quantities.” In other words, above and beyond what I ask for or even what I could imagine.

That verse goes on to say to speak of the streams (or rivers) of God being full of water- they never run dry! No matter how much it takes to quench me, there is still more. No matter how dry I am, His water keeps flowing.

And it’s flowing for a purpose. It’s flowing to provide just as the Lord has ordained. And He has ordained our provision- we will not go without.

That rest we need? We have it in Him. That answer we are waiting for? It’s coming through Him. That healing we long for? It will be manifested. That comfort, that peace, that wisdom, that discernment, that friend, that love… all of it is in Him.

He is our caretaker, our enricher, our provision, our source of living water… that is a promise to cling to. I’m grabbing on to that with all I’ve got this week- won’t you join me? ❤️


September already?!

Y’all, I just can’t seem to keep to a schedule with these blog posts! My goal for the last year has been to get on a more regular schedule for posting, with at least one post each week.

The last post I shared was in July. It is now September. Suffice it to say my plan is not working.

Anyway, since July things have been pretty calm when it comes to Harper. Now, in my own life with school and work and three children and a husband, not so calm, but maybe one day I’ll get around to a post about all that (or maybe not, given my track record…)

Harper started first grade and has adjusted so well thus far. She is all about becoming more independent and is so excited about learning new things. It has by far been our smoothest transition yet with her, which is an absolute answer to prayer.

As far as seizures go, I was feeling pretty confident in our level of control. We had not seen any daytime seizure activity since her hospital stay, and we spent the last couple of months weaning off of one of her medications. However, those pesky things have been trying to make a reappearance, so we are on heightened alert right now. She is back to having very restless sleep and waking up several times a night, and we have seen some seizure activity pretty consistently in the last week while she’s awake. Fortunately those episodes have not progressed to the full-blown tonic-clonic seizures, so we are still counting our blessings!

We do have a message in to the doctor to see what our next step is to stop these episodes since Harp is down to one med right now, and we have a trip to Duke on the schedule this week. While we have transitioned her seizure care to a neurologist at Johns Hopkins, we still have regular follow-ups and scans with her neurosurgeon at Duke. This week she will have an MRI to monitor the cysts and fluid in her brain, and we are praying that she will be cooperative and expecting nothing but good news!

This morning at church I heard a great message, and one of the points the pastor made really resonated with me. See, Harper is 6 1/2 years old now. We have been doing this for that many years, and we have been steadily praying all along the way. And while we have seen great miracles worked in her, we have not witnessed that total healing completely manifested yet. (And I do emphasize yet because I know it’s coming!).

We get tired. We get discouraged. We have our questions and wondering and not understanding. But this morning the pastor said something along these lines (and I’m sure he said it much more eloquently, but you’ll get the gist)- oftentimes God does not change our circumstances, but He changes US.

We are still in this battle. We still fight every day and our entire family is impacted in ways most people don’t even know. It’s been a long battle. BUT GOD has been faithfully changing each one of us along the way, revealing Himself in ways we never would have seen before, and growing us in ways that we would have never experienced. Our journey isn’t over, and He isn’t finished with us yet. We will choose to be thankful and give Him praise for all He has done, all He is doing, and all that He will still do. He is GOOD, y’all!

First Flights & Faithfulness

It was a big weekend for Harper (and Mom)… she took her first airplane ride!

She was super excited about it and had a blast, but unfortunately the destination was not so exciting. We had to return to Baltimore for follow-up testing regarding her ESES diagnosis. Since we were just there a month ago and the trip took about ten hours in the car by the time we made all the stops along the way, we opted for the one-hour flight this time. Yes, it was more expensive. Yes, it was a bit scary to maneuver the airports and big city alone with her. But all in all, totally worth it for her comfort!

Harper had an overnight EEG, a re-evaluation of certain items on her neuropsych testing, and a follow-up with the neurologist. The results from everything have been somewhat complicated.

We received the full report from her testing last month, which showed a lot of concerns developmentally. While she has made great strides and progress in so many ways, there has unfortunately been a lot of regression in other areas. I won’t lay out all of those details here, but there is a lot for us to process and consider, and decisions to pray over.

As for the ESES, the good news is that the medicine has decreased the intensity of her seizure activity in her sleep, and there were improvements in one area of her cognitive testing. However, there is a flip side to that. First, while the seizure activity is less intense, it is still at the same frequency, and the testing indicated that her memory is still regressing instead of improving as they had hoped. The next solution would be higher doses of the medicine she’s on- but we just had to decrease it because of the side effects.

We are going to instead try weaning her off of her original medicine to see if perhaps the combination of the two medicines is the cause of the severe side effects we’ve seen. This will be a two-month process, and will be re-evaluated if her daytime seizures start again, but if it goes well, we will then look at tackling the ESES more aggressively with the other medicine.

At times this journey seems so long. There is so much trial and error. There are so many questions without definitive answers. And oftentimes there are so many answers we don’t want to hear. There are times that I get angry about it, and times that I just feel sad as I wade through all of the information that comes at us. Sometimes I wonder how after over six years of this road I can still trust and believe.

Here’s how- the faithfulness of God. I see His faithfulness in every little step we take. Every milestone she makes. Every day she wakes me up with that sweet smile and too-tight hug. Every reminder she gives me and every tooth she loses and talks about infinitely. Every word she learns to read. Every song of praise that leaves her lips. Every prayer she says and every time she raises her hands in worship. Every story she tells with such animation. Every time she falls but bounces right back. Every giggle, every dance, every time I hear her little voice say, “Mommy.” Every time I watch her play with her dolls or be brave or try and try again… it is all because of Him.

And because I’ve seen His faithfulness in all the small things, I know He is faithful in the big things.

He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. -1 Thessalonians 5:24

Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. -Hebrews 10:23

For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord! Psalm 117:2


The last week or so has been a struggle.

I usually try to post the good things on here- the answered prayers, the blessings, the good news- and even when the news isn’t the greatest, I try to focus on the good that is there. But today I’ll just be honest, because I think there is danger in putting up a happy front all of the time and not being real.

This week has been a lot of real. It has been bouncing around to appointments with a child who screams for thirty minutes in the car. It has been watching my usually-bouncy-and-happy little girl battle fatigue and aggression, spacing out while I’m talking to her and spending the majority of her day crying, uninterested in the things that she once enjoyed. It has been difficult conversations with doctors. It has been hard-to-swallow information and diagnoses that hurt my heart. It has been pages of reports that bring me to my knees and fear that threatens to cripple me. It has been reverting back to checklists and schedules and techniques to ease my girl’s days as her mind and body grapple with medications that wreck her. It has been saying no to many of the things we usually enjoy this time of year and praying that my other girls will understand. It has been painful, it has been challenging, and it has been lonely.

I found myself weeping one night, which is something I don’t often do. I am just not a crier, but the floodgates opened and as I sat there in a puddle of tears, I was shocked as I realized that I was mentally berating myself for being emotional. I was downright angry at myself for crying. “Get it together! You’re stronger than this! You can’t solve any of this by crying over it!”

And as I chastised myself, I felt the Lord whisper to my heart, “You’re wrong.”

The fact of the matter is, I cannot get this together. This situation is far beyond me, and that is hard for me to accept. I am a fixer. I want to make everything better, especially for my babies. But this time I can’t. Now, don’t get me wrong- I won’t stop trying. I will fight for my girl, even if that means traveling all over the U.S. to get her help or telling a doctor that some of their recommendations just aren’t happening because while they may know her condition, they don’t know her.

But sometimes my fighting isn’t enough, and I have to realize that. Sometimes my fighting needs to be less of my own efforts and more of my prayers to the One who can get this all together. Sometimes I need to do less standing up and running around and more kneeling down and surrendering. (And by sometimes, I mean all the time!)

I also came to the realization that I am not stronger than this. I am weary, I am worn, and I am weak. I’m not strong enough to face this! But the One who is in me is, and His strength is perfected in my weakness. And He does not expect me to face this in my own strength.

As for all that crying? Well, the tears may not solve anything, but the Bible says that God sees them all and that He cares. He draws near to and heals the broken-hearted. Psalm 56:8 in the Message translation says it this way… “You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered into your ledger, every ache written into your book.” The tears matter, and my brokenness drives me even closer to Jesus.

So, to those of you who need to hear this reminder, here you go: it’s okay to feel broken. It’s okay to not have all of the answers or be able to fix it all. It’s okay to feel sad, to feel weak, and to feel scared or angry or disappointed. It’s okay! Feel all the feelings. Let it all out.

BUT- don’t stop there. Push through those emotions, cry out to God, and let Him heal your hurt as only He can do. Let it all out to the One who can take it all and bring beauty from ashes. Let Him hold you and mold you and lift your tired bones back up from the mess. We may not get up off the floor with all the answers, but we can step forward with the One who already knows the outcome. I don’t know about you, but I would much rather grab His hand and walk on than hide away and wallow in my tears.

Be real, but be real to the real God. And if you need a friend to lift you to the real God, I’m here ❤️

Masquerades & lonely days

Have you ever felt alone?  I don’t mean you’re home by yourself and you’re alone, but the kind of alone where you can be surrounded by people (like adults or little people, depending on your situation) but still feel isolated.  You just don’t quite fit in any of the boxes and you find yourself wandering on the outskirts, just at the edge of the dark.  You weave in and out of the crowd, make small talk along the way, but realize that you’ve put on a mask for the world to see and perhaps no one sees what you look like underneath it all.

I’m learning that on this journey of mommyhood it’s far too easy to fall into this trap of loneliness.  We worry that we’re messing up, that we aren’t disciplining our children correctly, that they eat too much junk food, that they watch too much tv, that we don’t do enough crafts, that the house isn’t clean enough, on and on and on.  We compare ourselves to what we think we see in other moms, forgetting that we often perceive things to be very different from what they actually are.  We don’t want people to know what really goes on in our homes, so we put up a good front- so good, in fact, that we fool even ourselves.  But, in the midst of our masquerade, there is always One who cannot be fooled.  There is One who sees all and knows all- even those thoughts and feelings we keep to ourselves.

In a rare moment alone, I found myself listening to a sermon on love, and totally convicted of all the ways I fall short in demonstrating such love to my family on a daily basis.  (You know, love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy… it is not easily angered- not exactly the picture of love I’ve been painting these days!)  As I was praying, the Lord revealed to me the masquerade of mommyhood- within the walls of my home, I’m less than patient and kind, I catch myself being jealous of what I see others doing, and heaven knows I can get angry when the bickering amongst siblings begins!  Yet that’s not what I want people to see.  So we dress nice and smile and say everything is good when someone asks, and I bow my head in humiliation when my children throw a fit in public, or when someone shows up unannounced and sees the mess in my home.

And where does that get me?  Into the land of the lonely.  Feeling like I don’t measure up, that no one gets it, that I’m all by myself on this journey.  Now, granted, a lot of times I am by myself- with a husband who travels a lot and one daughter with anxiety and OCD and another daughter with special needs, I can be a bit isolated. But the loneliness is amplified when I try to pretend that everything is nice and happy and “normal” all the time.

However, the Lord led me to His Word- specifically to Psalm 139:1-10…

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar.  You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways.  Before a word is on my tongue You, Lord, know it completely.  You hem me in behind and before, and You lay your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.  Where can I go from your Spirit?  Where can I flee from your Presence?  If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

You see, even when I feel at my lowest, when I feel I am completely alone and no one understands, I’m wrong.  There is always One who is with me, always One who understands.  He knows me intricately.  He knows my moves, He knows my thoughts, He knows my words.  He knows every detail about my being, knows every detail of what I’m facing, and He understands me better than I do- because He knows not only where I am and what I’m doing, but what is to come in my story.  Wherever I go, He is there.  He’s with me on the mountaintop, He’s with me in the sludge of the valley, and He’s with me on the journey in between.

So, goodbye loneliness, goodbye masquerades… What joy there is in knowing that wherever this journey leads me, I have One with me who refuses to leave my side, who refuses to leave me alone, who refuses to give up on me.  He knows me- the real me- and loves me like no other.



If you’re at all familiar with the contemporary Christian music genre, you’ve no doubt heard the song “Oceans.”  It’s a powerful song about faith and being willing to go wherever God sends you, and there was the big trend to sing this song loud and proud without really taking into account the meaning behind the song.  So then there came a time of people not being so quick to sing it for fear of not having big enough faith or doing big enough things- I found myself there, feeling like I couldn’t really mean these words being sung about walking out onto the water into the unknown.  I mean, really, I’m a stay at home mom in a small town, the very town I grew up in, married to my college sweetheart- not a lot of big, dramatic, walk-on-water moments, right?

EXCEPT… maybe, just maybe, walking on water in faith is being right where God has placed you, even if that means doing the mundane day in and day out.  Perhaps sometimes radical faith is staying the course.  Sometimes it isn’t crossing oceans to reach a foreign people but rather being present with the people right here in your hometown, or even just in your home.  Sometimes it’s cleaning messes and changing diapers and reading stories.  Sometimes it’s cooking meals or helping with homework or driving little people to practice.  Sometimes it’s grocery shopping or paying bills or chatting with a neighbor.  Sometimes it’s helping out that new mom or visiting the elderly or hosting your kid’s friends for a sleepover.  Sometimes it’s trips to the doctor and scans and tests and making them take medicine and living with a mountain of unknowns.

Because those are all opportunities.  It’s all a chance to exercise faith and trust God a little more and share Jesus and extend grace and love and mercy- to go deeper.  I don’t have to cross the ocean to give my all to God.  Quite often my deepest waters are right within the walls of my home.  My feet may fail and fear surrounds me all. the. time.  Any one of us can find ourselves thrust into the mystery of the great unknown at any given time, even if we feel we’re safe in our comfort zone.  And sometimes trusting God means accepting the place you’re in, the role you’ve been given- even if it doesn’t seem big and grand and important.  It all matters.

So I’m looking at this song with renewed vision… believing that God may be leading some of us to big, bold things that turn our worlds upside-down, but that He also calls some of us to do the things here, the things at home that not everyone sees.  No matter where we are or what role we are playing, we all have an ocean to face.  We can all make the choice to follow Him in faith, call on His name, and go deeper.

Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.
-I Corinthians 1:26-29

 From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.
-Ephesians 4:16

Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.
But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.
But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”

Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
-Matthew 14:25-32

Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
-2 Corinthians 12:7-10


Her scars tell a story, a big story.  And I’ve always known that one day she’ll notice them and she’ll have questions and we’ll have to talk about all of the big things- how we didn’t know if she would live at all, how many times she almost died, how she had to fight so hard, how her brain looks so very different, how she has defeated all odds, how God has so miraculously worked in her and how He has used her in such big ways.

But she’s only three, and those discussions for one day seem so far away… or so I thought.  This morning as we snuggled on the bed reading her favorite stories for the umpteenth time, she suddenly stopped and looked perplexed.  “Mommy, what’s that?”  Her hands were in tangled up in her wild, wavy hair that was once dark brown but is now growing blonder by the day… Hair that has finally grown out enough to cover the tracks of scars that circle her sweet skull so that adults don’t stare at us in public any more and children don’t ask the questions that would cross everyone’s minds when they saw the markings on her head.  But the scars are still there, rough to the touch, and her fingers had found the scabbed area that the neurosurgeon had purposely left- a flap that would allow easy access in the future should they need to tap back into her brain to drain fluid.

I didn’t quite know how to answer her.  One day she’ll be big enough to understand her big story and our big God.  One day she’ll be more aware of the way her scars look- the scabs, the lines etched in her skin under her hair, the indentions in her thigh, the marks on her belly and her feet.  One day those things may bother her, or one day she may realize they paint a beautiful picture.  But today?  Today she is three, and she needs a simple answer that she can understand.  So that’s what she got.  “Baby, that’s where God helped the doctors work on your brain to make you all better.”  And with that she was satisfied.

As she grows older, she’s becoming more and more aware of things.  She’s taking note of the “boo-boo’s” on her body.  She’s becoming opinionated about taking medication.  She observes the doctors and nurses very carefully, and is starting to ask more questions.  And once again I’m learning how to navigate these waters- learning what to say and how to say it, how to involve her in her own health, how to raise her up to be her own advocate, how to keep my own emotions in check, and how to use it all to point her to Jesus.

And at the end of the day, that’s what it all boils down to… Because whether we are raising one child or fifteen, whether we have a child with special medical needs or special emotional needs or special learning needs or perfect health all the way around, we have a couple of things in common. One, we all have scars of some kind to deal with.  They may be visible, or they may be hidden, but everyone has something.  And two, we all have the same end goal- pointing others to Jesus.  So whatever scars we have, or our children have, seen or unseen, let’s use them to tell the story of redemption and mercy and grace.

The struggle is real

Tonight I snuggled up beside my littlest in the dark, turned on some praise music, and watched her fall asleep, her chubby arm draped across my chest, her head nestled just under my chin.  And as I breathed her in and prayed over her, the tears came once again, as they have so many times this week.

In the dark as my tears fell, my prayers over her turned to arguing with God.  Because here’s the deal- I don’t feel strong enough for this journey.  Sometimes I feel certain that God must have chosen the wrong girl to walk this path.  As this cycle continues day after day, month after month, year after year, my flesh grows weak.  Not only do I not understand why my daughter has to go through these things, but I don’t understand why He thinks I’m strong enough to handle them.  The demands are draining, the worry is wearisome, and the emotions are exhausting.

BUT- the Savior is sufficient.  As I found myself in the pit of despair for the umpteenth time, I heard Him whisper, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”  I don’t have to be strong, because He is.  I don’t have to carry this load, because He does.  And I’m not alone, because He is there every step of the way, leading me, holding my hand, and picking me up and carrying me when I can’t seem to take the next step.

I felt compelled to share the darkness of this journey- so often I get told that we are so strong and have such great faith… But the truth is, we struggle.  There are very hard days.  Sometimes the night seems to last forever.  I cry all. the. time.  I don’t ever want to mislead anyone into thinking that I am some kind of superhuman who can take anything and never stumble- Y’all, I am a hot mess these days!  But God loves each of us in the state we’re in- the more of a mess we are, the more grace He bestows.  He forgives me when my faith falters, He picks me up when I’m in a sobbing heap on the floor, and He holds me close when I’m terrified of what tomorrow holds.  He’s real, He’s ever present, and if our journey can be used for anything, I hope that it reveals the amazing grace of a loving Savior who has plans for you.  ❤️

(By the way- listen to this song… Amazing lyrics- He is for us, not against us… He makes us brave)



This morning we grabbed our Bibles and notebooks (and Mommy’s caffeine), gathered on the couch, and read the account of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem… That familiar story we’ve read each Palm Sunday.  You know the one… Where Jesus’ disciples obeyed his command to go get the colt…  How everything transpired just as Jesus said it would…  How this young, untrained animal carried the Savior of the world into town…  And how the people saw Jesus coming and threw down their cloaks and palm branches, shouting, “Hosanna!” (Which literally means save us.)

Oh, what a refreshing reminder this was to kick off this week!  This familiar story that we’ve read and read came alive with fresh meaning once again.  Beginning with the fact that Jesus knew what was happening and why it was happening… And He still does.  He knew where the colt was, He knew what needed to be said, and He knew that it all needed to happen as it happened for a purpose- His purpose.  He is the Son of God.  He could have ridden into town on a more majestic animal.  He could have split the sky open and come into town with thunder and lightning and let them know the king had arrived.  He created the universe, for crying out loud!  But that wasn’t the plan.  That didn’t fulfill the prophecy, and it wouldn’t have suited the purpose.  He knew the message that needed to be relayed, and He knew the means by which to relay it.  He knew all that needed to be known then, and He still knows now.

Do you see the recognition of the Savior in this account?  From the disciples sent to get the animal to the young colt to the people on the side of the road, they all saw Jesus for who He is.  The disciples didn’t question Jesus when He told them to go take this animal that would be tied up.  When you read that, it sounds preposterous!  Walk down the road until you see this colt tied up, then untie it and take it away without permission?  That would certainly raise some questions.. .but the disciples just obeyed.  They trusted their Lord, trusted His instruction, trusted His plan, and it worked.  And when they brought this animal to Him, it seemed to know its Creator, its Master, and it calmly obeyed His command and carried Jesus into town.  The people watched for Jesus, and threw down their cloaks to pave the way for the King, calling out Hosanna!, recognizing Jesus as the One who saves.  What a word to each of us- a call to pause and see Jesus for who He is, to worship Him, to bow before Him, to praise His name and proclaim Him as the only One who can save us.  In this time where everyone is looking for someone to step in and save the day, what relief there is in knowing that ultimately there is One who can bring us the salvation we all long for!

Yes, these were indeed great reminders for me on this Monday. But do you know what was even more remarkable?  My children.  I directed them to this passage this morning, but they made the connections.  They retold the account to me with enthusiasm, reading deeper than the words on the page, pointing all of us to Jesus.  It was more than palm branches and riding on a donkey.  They got it, and they shared it, and my heart swelled with love as I saw them get excited about Him.  And as much love and joy as I felt in that moment watching my children love Jesus and talk about Him with such passion, there was the slightest twinge of guilt… because just how often does my Father’s heart swell with love because of my bubbling over about Jesus?   Certainly not as often as it should.  As these girls of mine learn and grow in Him, I find more and more that I am steadily learning and growing just as much alongside them.

Mommin’ ain’t easy

Okay, have y’all seen all the shirts advertised right now that say, “Mommin’ ain’t easy”?  Seriously.  Those should be handed out like trophies at the hospital when you give birth- swaddle those newborn babies up in that shirt as they go home because every mama will understand those words all too soon.

Moms, our work is not easy.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve given birth or God has blessed you through adoption… If you work a full time career outside of the home or work odd jobs to make ends meet… If you home school or private school or public school… If you’re the “fun” mom or the “tough” mom… If your house stays clean (bless you) or if you wade over the piles to get in bed at night… If you have one kid or twenty… being a mom is hard.

The struggle is real and I get it.  I’ve had the days where I’m not sure if I’m running a home for my family or the mentally insane.  I’ve been hit, scratched, spit on, yelled at, called names… All in one day.  I have had to make hard choices and discipline when it hurts- and yes, sometimes it truly does hurt me more than it does them.  I’ve had moments of patience and moments of yelling, days full of tears and nights full of prayers.  I’ve helped a threatening runaway pack her bags and I’ve run away myself a time or two (but only as far as Target, so don’t freak out on me!).

But, here’s the thing- It. Is. Worth. It.  Yes, some days are hard and you just can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, and some of those days grow into weeks or months, but every second of every battle is worth it.  You see, these little humans that we have been given charge of here on earth were given to us for a purpose.  God designed them for us and us for them.  He knew that you would be the perfect mom for your child, that you have the qualities and characteristics that your baby needs not just to survive, but to thrive- and that your kiddo also has the very thing you need to develop and grow and become more Christ-like.  Because this mom-thing isn’t just about us teaching and molding them- it’s a learning process for us, too.

Right now it’s hard to see beyond the dirty diapers and sleepless nights, the piles of laundry and the toys in the floor.  It’s difficult to see how cooking another dinner that will be met with grumbles and complaints will bring glory to the kingdom of God, how wiping up another spill could possibly lead someone to Christ, or how refereeing the umpteenth argument over Legos or Uno (or some other catastrophic event) is an opportunity to share the love of Jesus.  But guess what, weary mama?  It all matters.  All of the little, tiny, seemingly-unimportant moments make up a big, beautiful picture painted by a big, beautiful God- and He doesn’t make mistakes.

Your work is not in vain.  Keep pressing forward, knowing that every word spoken and every deed done is making an eternal difference.  You are loved, and you are doing a mighty work.



Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. -Galatians 6:9

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.  -I Corinthians 10:31

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.                      -Colossians 3:23-23