This phase of parenting little ones can be isolating and all-consuming, rife with insecurity. This phase is marked with a million opinions, where even strangers are quick to supply parenting advice.

We’re swimming through a daunting world of well-meaning you should’s, desperate for measurable progress, or really any sign, to confirm we’re raising these impressionable hearts well.

It’s lonely.
It’s thankless.
It’s full of compromise.

Are we doing anything well?

It doesn’t have to be this way.

My gal-pal, sister-in-law recently signed up to do ordinary and boring life with me for a few days.

While staying with us, she saw me in my daily chaos/and my frazzled preschool drop off/and my unholy complaining/and my dirty floors/and my exasperated/and my embarrassingly sticky high chair cover/and my illogically hurt feelings/and my dog hair/and my toddler meltdowns/and my soured milk/and my profuse apologies/and my drowning in life/and my eating my emotions/and my I’m too tired to care right now/and my need for perspective/and my sleepless 15-month-old/and my always running behind/and my unhealthy preoccupation with approval/and my tired cry/and my insecurities/and my unanswered questions/and my short fuse/and my unkind rant/and my guilt/and my disappointed/and my desperate need for grace/and my am I doing enough. . .

In a matter of three days, she saw me live this spectrum of motherhood.

She sat squarely across from me, quietly nodding as I filled her ears with my problems.

She reminded me my problems are common, buttoning me up with Truth.

She rehabilitated me with gentle questions, actively partnering in my well-being.

She eagerly unpacked my dreams.
She thoughtfully nudged me to chase them.

But most of the time, she was running alongside me, present in my circus.

Curiously, she never offered me more advice.

She instead positioned herself shoulder-to-shoulder with me in the trenches, loving me closer to Jesus with her presence.

I’m convinced this is what godly community looks like.

I’m convinced not many of us have it.

When all we’re hearing is a list of you need to’s, maybe we just need a friend.

A friend who loves us well when the mask comes off.

A friend whose presence is louder than her opinions.

This sort of deep, authentic friendship is possible.

This sort of friendship is necessary.

I pray this sort of friendship for you. And if you’re waiting for this sort of friendship, I pray God makes you this sort of friend.