You can have easy children, but an easy motherhood just doesn’t exist.

Today went sideways.  I wish I could justify it with a laundry list of deep grief—and while I have some of that, it wasn’t pain that spiraled me today. It was the usual throes of motherhood.  Nothing could appease my discontented children. Every ho-hum part of our day was a struggle.  I eventually started giving…

Let that be enough.

One year ago, I nervously pecked away on my laptop to start my little Facebook writing page. I had no idea what I was doing. Still don’t. Clearly. CLEARLY. But this discomfort felt eerily familiar. It was the same discomfort I felt eight years ago, when I was out power walking granny style and felt…

To the wrecked soul suffering under the weight of darkness.

Do you feel attacked? I’m not surprised. There’s a real enemy bent on taking you down. You’re the image bearer of God. And the enemy can’t touch God, so he’ll try to get his hands on the next best thing. And that’s you. It’s probably easier to shy away from discussing spiritual warfare because that…

An Open Letter to My Husband on Valentine’s Day.

An Open Letter to My Husband on Valentine’s Day,  I hope I’ve freed you from any expectation to buy flowers and chocolate. While the glamour of gifts is fun, your less glamorous daily acts of sacrifice deserve far more praise.  After all, I’ve seen you love me for years. Not just with cards or flowers,…

To my dear reader.

Oh friend, how I’ve missed you in January.  We’ve been running hard toward February. So let’s just breathe one gargantuan sigh of relief together. Take it in. Yes, just like that. Now let it out.  Phew.  We see you, February.  I don’t know about you, but we’ve been handcuffed to the house with snot and…

Maybe we just need a friend.

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…

An Open Letter to My Firstborn.

For moms wrestling with the transition to additional children. To My Eldest Child— I had not a clue how intoxicating being a mother—being your mother—would be. God chose you to make me a mama, and I have been changed for the better ever since. You have impacted me tremendously over the past couple years, and…