To All Who Mother Motherless

There are a hundred ways to lose a mother. 

Cancer, car accidents, cocaine habits...

Depression, disability, distance...

My mother died when I was twelve. A man crossed the solid yellow lines and crashed her van onto the side of the road. Her loss is as much a part of me as the double helixes of DNA that make me curly headed and fair skinned.

I'm writing to you because I want you to know that you are welcome in this place and you are far from alone in the journey. I hear it from so many of you and I can see the tears that have trailed your cheeks stained. You carry a heavy weight because your mama couldn't bare fully the weight of motherhood. 

If I could see your soul it would likely look hollowed out, malnourished in all the motherless places. Years of living motherless can leave you hungry to know the curve of a mothers love, the way it can wrap itself around the bare places of your heart.

Some of you are like me. You lost your mama to circumstance or illness and you wish with all your heart that she could be here, by your side, a phone call away during those midnight feedings.
 
Others of you have mothers who made the choice to quit when you needed her most. She walked out and kept walking despite your cries and desperate need. I believe it all aches the same. No loss is more or less and the hurt, regardless of how it happened, can debilitate us. The ache can whisper into our hearts and minds that we are lacking in every way.

Let me cup your face in my hands and look deep in your eyes for a moment because there is something you deeply need to hear. It is something that I have deeply needed to hear.

Your ability to mother the children God has given you has nothing to do with how you were or were not mothered. 

I know it feels differently. I know in those moments when the baby is crying, the toddler is wailing, the teen slammed the door (again) and you disagree with your husband that it can seem the world is imploding and you're the one to blame because you weren't mothered well. I know sweet sister. I know that ache and I know the thousands of tears that you've cried because you thought you were getting it ALL wrong.

Let me whisper truth into your soul. That is a lie. 

God says He has given us everything we need for life and Godliness and that He will supply all your needs according to His riches. He is rich in grace for the motherless among us. He says once you were without hope but now He has given you a hope and future. He has placed you in a family.

You get to be the mama and you get to be a part of God's rewriting of the story.

Your past? The generations of women in your family that mothered with a limp? Women who struggled along and gave grief when they should have heaped grace? The cycle ends with you. 

There is a fire that burns bright for those of us who have lived motherless.

Motherless women have a passion unparalleled to mother well.

I know you feel it. You can be at a loss most of the time about the "how-to's" of motherhood but you rarely are at a loss about the gravity of your calling.

We are women who celebrate most bravely the big accomplishments and tiny victories of the everyday. We are mama bears who wrestle cubs into bed and read an extra story because we're utterly convinced it matters.  

In Christ we mother whole even with a hole in our hearts. That's the beauty of redemption. Redemption doesn't erase the scars it simply gives them meaning. It gives their story depth so that when we recount the tale to our sons and daughters we can share a different ending.

Motherhood begins long before the labor pains. We learn the lay of the land from the women before us but when we hold those precious ones to our chest our story takes on a life of it's own. Live that story in confident hope God will meet you in the middle and fill in all the gaps and cracks.

And if you're ever feeling alone in the midnight of motherhood just wave a hand. I'll be there and together we'll remember the truth. We are whole in Christ. Whole to mother fully though our own mothers failed us. Whole to risk failure to change the future.

Are you feeling the ache today? Leave your tears and hurts in the comments and we'll take it to Jesus together.

The Whole Truth

Sometimes you have to be bold and say it out loud. You have to say what happened to you or what you experienced even through blinked back tears and when you have no idea how it will come out.

Three weeks ago I miscarried our second child.

I’ll be honest, I’ve not wanted to be a blogger who wrote about having a miscarriage- not that anyone “wants” to have the experience and write about it. Please know that I am grateful for those of you who have written about that experience, but {and please hear the grace in this} I didn’t want to be that writer. It isn’t a story I wanted to tell.

My mom had miscarriages. She isn’t here to ask about them, but I do know that they were before she had my brother or myself. I’m blessed I have a healthy daughter a gloriously ordinary first pregnancy and no previous miscarriages, but I think that somewhere in my soul I knew that I would walk this road. Maybe I’m walking this road for someone else who is going to walk it behind me.

The first thing that I said to my husband when I realized that we were probably losing the baby was that I dreaded telling people. Most of our family knew about our impending addition and we’d slowly started sharing the news with an ever widening circle of friends. Some of you are hearing this for the first time and for that I am sorry. Grace?

It wasn’t that I was afraid of what people would say. I know that we are loved and that tenderness and sympathy would be in heavy supply from all. I’ve been scarred by tea and sympathy from losing too many in my life. I have an aversion to it. Kyle gently reminded me that I didn’t have to tell anyone.

I’d almost decided not too.

My reluctance to tell this part of my story has to do with my own struggle with grief. I’ve realized that I fear being the girl who lost her {fill in the blank}. Growing up I was the girl who lost her parents and this has reminded me that I still worry about that being the way people one dimensionally see me.

Truth be told I don’t have to sit here and write this story out for everyone who stumbles on my blog to read, but as I’ve mulled over this new part of my story I knew that it wouldn’t be authentic to hide it. I’m not afraid of the ugly pieces of my story because I know that those are not irredeemable pieces for God.

Let me say that I am okay. The recovery has been very manageable and we’ve been cared for well. Yes, it stinks that we lost a baby. I’ve sob-soaked a t-shirt or two of my husbands in recent weeks. I’m dealing with my emotions {alone time, Scripture, chocolate, girl time, good books, Zumba class and retail therapy help} and I’ve been shored up by a few sisters who have walked with me through this in the most tender way.

I’ve wrestled with the right emotions in the midst of it all. I was between 9-10 weeks when it happened so it was still early. My connection to the baby was not super strong at that point and so the loss doesn’t feel as great. In some ways I wish that it did because that is the way that I think I should feel, but don’t.

That was scary to write because that bumps up against all kinds of insecurity I harbor about being a good mom. Should I be more emotional? I did just lose a child. Will someone think that I don’t value life or personhood because my child was only 10 weeks old when I miscarried and I’m not overly distraught about what happened? These are questions that swirl as I type.

I’d say the biggest thing for me right now is the fears that are creeping around the edges of life as we think about the future. What ifs are a huge trigger for my anxiety and I’m having to press forward in letting that go and believing that all is grace whether we have another child or another miscarriage.

Sorry for being a serious Debbie-downer right before Mother’s Day. I tried to not hit “publish” but it felt unauthentic. Someone out there is walking this path right now and I hope that you can see me a few steps ahead waving and telling you that it is ok to not know how you feel and to keep walking any way.

Every woman who has carried a child, no matter how long or how short, knows that our children break parts of us off. They split us open and down the middle and we’re never quite the same once their lives have touched ours. Even if it is an ever so light touch.

Let’s be sad for a second together. Let the weight of it sink in. Let the tears fall free. Don’t fight it or question it. I promise to sit with you for as long as you need.

I don’t have anything revolutionary or mind-blowing to say about this experience. I’m still processing it and the half dozen other things that have blindsided us these past few weeks- April was a doozy of a month.

All I know is that I want to share in this space my real in every way. I’ve made a point to always do that and even though these aren’t the words I wanted to add to my story in April of 2014 they are evidently the ones that God wanted to add. Not the words of a cruel unfeeling God, but the words of a master storyteller honing His craft in my life for my good and His glory.

Thanks for cupping this story in your hands gently.

{Feel free to share your own miscarriage/loss stories in the comments. Whisper them in an email handmedowngrace(at)gmail(dot)com if you aren’t brave enough to say them out loud. I’d love to hear your sweet words of encouragement- keep it light and lovely though. I need some happy up in here.}

A bit of happy to add…

The giveaway for The Vintage Honey Shop teething necklace is still going on and I’d love for you to enter. Seriously, it would knock my socks off to give a piece of beauty to you. You. Yes, YOU! Go enter!

+ Mother’s Day, HELLO! Break out the breakfast in bed and day off of dishes!

Catch up on this weeks reads…

This week has been full of great posts:

Why We Can Say “Yes” In Our Mess {Kristen Welch’s Rhinestone Jesus is now available!}

Mother’s Day Redeemed {For all of the motherless daughters out there}

100 Way You Know You’re A Mom {A Guest Post by Lisa-Jo Baker!}

Learning to Share {+ a giveaway from The Vintage Honey Shop}

Learning To Share {+ a Mother's Day Giveaway From The Vintage Honey Shop}

Motherhood is learning to share all over again. 

Maybe really it is learning that we've never really known how to share fully. 

I'll never forget the first night at home with our daughter, the girl who never slept, when my husband red-eyed looked at me and said "I can't do six weeks of this" as he vigorously rocked our newborn.

Somewhere along the line in baby book reading and childbirth prep he had gathered the idea that the inconsolable crying and sleepless nights would magically go away in six weeks. First time parents. Oh to be so innocent again.

It's funny now. I shake my head, close my eyes and I belly laugh because I hardly recognize that man and woman worn out and wondering what they'd gotten themselves into with their new daughter at 3am.

Teething necklaces from The Vintage Honey Shop are intended for adults to wear only.

It was a few weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon- the time of the week in the Hoover home that is unarguably devoted to naps for all. Once again the wee girl was in an all out revolt against sleep and so while mama tried to nap she jumped on my stomach, asked to watch Aristocats forty billion times and tried to open my tired eyes by pulling my eyelashes out one by one.

I capitulated moment to moment during that sleepless afternoon between crazy anger at the wide awake toddler and head over heels love for the tiny girl whose breath tickled my ear with each "I love you, mama."

We think that learning to share is the work of childhood. We grow up and we learn social cues and how to get along in an acceptable way in our day to day with others. Then these little people barrel their way into the our worlds and make us share in ways that are uncomfortable.

We share our bodies. We share our personal space. We share our lunch even when they have the same thing on their plate. We share our hearts and they are wrenched and wrung out by our own flesh and blood. We share in knowing a teeny tiny bit what it must be like for God to love us. 

There are evenings that I collapse on the couch unable to do one.more.thing. in the name of keeping someone else alive. I flip on Netflix and realize that every thing that has been on today was animated and meant for the under five crowd. You know you're a mama when all your suggested programming contains a cartoon animal. 

We share until it can feel like there is little left to give and then from somewhere deep we find a well that pours out more. We tip up the pitcher and we pour it out and find that somehow in our weariness there is a bit more to give, just enough to share.

Then there is this one day a year designated "Mother's Day". The day that they will make us breakfast in bed and sign cards in magic marker covered with goopy painted handprints. We will clean up the messes of that day too and share it with tiny people that have made our life harder and sweeter.

Because no matter what the parenting books say...Sharing is hard. 

My mama always had a chocolate bar in her purse and I've always had a sweet tooth the size of Rhode Island. I knew better than to fish it out for myself, but my mama (whose sweet tooth made mine look tiny) would open it slowly, the silver paper reflecting my grin, and she'd break off a piece for me.

Who knows the last time she ate a candy bar in silence without my hazel eyes begging at her knee. I realize now that my mama was broken open body and soul when she became my mama.

Motherhood breaks pieces of us off and somehow there is always enough to go around when Jesus is the one filling our baskets. 

The sharing can be pure joy. A brownie batter covered spoon licked clean by little boys who'll wield them like a musketeer's sword. Wakeful nights shared with a nursling who can't get enough snuggles with mama. The laughter peeling from a wrestling match turned tickle fight turned family hug all before someone gets a bloody lip.

The hard moments. The why-won't-you-sleep-moments? The sweeter-than-chocolate-cake moments.  Every single shared moment that makes us mothers. Every single moment that turns us inside out, breaks us apart and remakes us into mothers who give, love, hope, dream and share with everything we have.

Cup your hands mama-sister. Turn your face up to the gifts of God and raise your empty and you'll find there is more than enough to share. Take courage. Sharing is hard but always worth it.

I'm so glad to be learning to share all over again with you. 

Happy {early} Mother's Day!

Oh, and I have one more thing...a surprise {giveaway} to share!

Today I'm giving away a beautiful gift for mama and baby to share. Jen & Mel over at The Vintage Honey Shop are giving away a teething necklace ($20 value) to one of my readers. I have a standard new mama/baby gift and each one includes one of their teething necklaces and now a copy of Lisa-Jo Baker's Surprised by Motherhood. Don't everyone invite me to their baby shower at once.

Teething necklaces from The Vintage Honey Shop are intended for adults to wear only.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Don't believe my love for The Vintage Honey Shop's wears? Here I am a year and half ago rockin' my own. Praise the Lord Millie has grown more hair! I still wear it even though my sweet girl isn't teething or nursing anymore because...look at it! It's gorgeous!

100 Ways You Know You’re A Mom {Guest Post from Lisa-Jo Baker + a Giveaway}

You know how I know I’m a mom? I’ve had a gallon of coffee today and I still feel tired because of a toddler who is adjusting to a new room and thinks that 6am is prime time to sing-scream the word “Mama” forty billion times. That right there my friends is love…or mutiny…I’m still not sure.

I also know I’m a mom because I get up for her every.single.time.
 
Lisa-Jo Baker, author of Surprised By Motherhood: Everything I Never Expected About Being a Mom knows 100 other ways that we are reminded in the extraordinary ordinary of the everyday that we are mamas through and through. I’m over the moon to have her over here in my corner of the web sharing those 100 ways today.

Also, Surprised By Motherhood, is pretty much my standard baby shower gift now. A copy of the book and a teething necklace from The Vintage Honey Shop {Hint Hint: I might just be giving away one of those pieces of beauty on the blog tomorrow- cue the squealing!} are the perfect gift. Don’t everyone invite me to their shower at once.

Here are the hundred ways and counting that we know that we are mamas as lived and tested by Lisa-Jo.

BONUS: Read to the end and leave your own comment adding to the list of ways that you know you’re a mom and be entered to win one of three custom book plates {pictured below} to add to your copy of Surprised by Motherhood signed by sweet Lisa-Jo. 

I've learned three things about motherhood in the last nine years. Motherhood is hard. Motherhood is glorious. And motherhood is very hard. Nothing. Nothing can properly capture a window into a mother's world. So much magic, so much mundane, so much heartache. But this is my little attempt to keep track of the whirligig of wonder that makes up any mother's days. And nights. And years.

100 Ways You Know You're a Mom

1. You are pretty much embarrassment-proof.
2. A trip to the grocery store alone is your idea of a spontaneous getaway.
3. You buy enough milk on a weekly basis to sponsor an entire dairy farm.
4. When you put on make up the kids get excited that you're all going out.
5. If you don't change the toilet paper roll, it doesn't get changed.
6. You can't remember what the words "personal space" mean.
7. You use photo shop for removing boogers more than for removing blemishes.
8. You wash the same load of laundry at least twice before you remember to empty it.
9. You know the names of all of the teenage mutant ninja turtles.

10. You consider Goldfish crackers a food group.

11. You can't remember a time when you didn't drive a minivan.
12. Lugging the baby carrier is your idea of a workout.
13. You listen to your kids' favorite tunes even when you're driving by yourself.
14. You have a love-hate relationship with The Wiggles.
15. You can't remember the last time you ate a meal while it was still hot.
16. You can cry in a Huggies commercial.
17. You were a sobbing mess after the Surprised by Motherhood trailer.
18. You are an expert at cutting gum out of hair.
19. You've had in depth conversations about the pros and cons of a Hello Kitty vs Minnie Mouse back pack.

20. You wish there was drive through everything.

21. You can do 18 things all at the same time.
22. You consider going to the bathroom by yourself the height of luxury.
23. You can change a diaper in the pitch dark.
24. You know how badly stepping on a piece of Lego can hurt.
25. A business trip by yourself feels like a vacation.
26. You have an entire Pinterest board full of crafts you will never get around to actually doing.
27. You forget the names of your children.
28. You lose the will to live at the thought of putting everyone to bed. Again.
29. Your kids ask you what the iron is for.

30. You save lives on a daily basis.

31. You take it personally when strangers don't wave back to your baby.
32. You spend more on carpet cleaning products than make up.
33. You actually own a product called KIDS N PETS Stain and Odor Remover.
34. Your husband tells you it isn't worth buying anything nice until the kids move out to college.
35. You cry with happiness when one of your children consents to eating broccoli.
36. You tell yourself pizza has all the food groups.
37. Some days you just want to quit motherhood.
38. You haven't slept in a decade.
39. You have clothes in every size under the sun.
40. You consider TGIF fine dining.

41. You obsess over whether or not you remembered to sign that permission slip.

42. Your love is so ferocious it scares you sometimes.
43. There is often an extra tiny person sleeping in your bed.
44. Coffee is one of your love languages.
45. You will never ever be able to sort, process or print all the photos you take.
46. You didn't know you were capable of this kind of courage.
47. You would rather have someone help you with the laundry than anything else in the world.
48. You know the names and super powers of every, single Marvel character ever created.
49. You loathe happy meal toys.

50. Your kisses have magical, healing properties.

51. You feel naked if you leave the house without Cheerios.
52. You wish they had GPS for kids.
53. You aren't afraid of anything.
54. You're afraid of everything.
55. You have sung the same song a trillion times.
56. You have several story books memorized.
57. You have an entire macaroni art collection and couldn't be prouder of it.
58. You cook as much with the play kitchen as the real one.
59. The curl at the nape of your baby's neck can leave you undone.

60. Your Instagram stream reads like a love letter to your children.

61. Your "desk" is surrounded by a constant stream of my little ponies, Darth Vadar and candy wrappers.
62. Your idea of luxury is when someone else unloads the dishwasher.
63. You daydream about a land where women go to the bathroom alone and don't have to narrate what they're doing in there.
64. This book makes you cry. Every single time.
65. You have made s'more on a campfire and on the kitchen stove.
66. You've convinced your kids that vacuuming is a "game."
67. Some days watching them is like seeing your heart do somersaults outside your body.
68. You don't want a how-to book about motherhood, you need a me-too story.
69. You didn't know T-Ball could be more exciting than the World Series.

70. Super glue is your best friend. So is chocolate.

71. Cereal is a breakfast, lunch, and dinner kind of food at your house.
72. About the last thing sofas are for is sitting on.
73. Your computer keyboard has permanent marker scribbled on it.
74. You loathe having to match socks.
75. Some days you're tempted to take off running after the ice cream truck.
76. You think Chuck E Cheese is the unhappiest place on earth.
77. Cutting a tiny person's finger nails terrifies you.
78. You worry that Flintstones vitamins are the only thing standing between your kids and scurvy.
79. You've Googled the phrase, "how to get Desitin out of the carpet."

80. You constantly get calls from the neighbor that you've left the car door open. Again.

81. You carry spare lollipops in your purse.
82. By "purse" you actually mean "diaper bag."
83. Your kids use your smart phone more than you do.
84. You know the precise shape sandwiches should be cut up into.
85. You are more excited to introduce your boys to one of your favorite movies than when you watched it the first time yourself.
86. You and your daughter cry, laugh and bond over popcorn and Anne of Green Gables.
87. You think you can cut hair.
88. You discover you can't actually cut hair.
89. You take a camera to photograph and then scrapbook someone else cutting your kid's hair.

90. Having kids has taught you how to love and be loved like nothing else on earth.

91. You do more multitasking in an average day than any CEO.
92. You've clocked hundreds of miles of carpooling.
93. Your body is soft in all the right places and perfect for comforting and cuddling.
94. You know that you are more than your swimsuit.
95. You pray. About everything. Because you've learned you can hardly control anything.
96. There is a fierce tiger living inside of you.
97. Your job description could fill an entire book.
98. Each day you get to unwrap more of the unexpected gifts of the ordinary.
99. You are deeply loved.
100. You love deeper than today and further than tomorrow.

Go ahead, pass it on - encourage another mom! But kindly please don't re-post this entire list, just share a few bullets and then link back over here. Thank you. Brave, wonderful, you. {Some affiliate links used to a few of my favorites in this list}
{To see the video reminder of why mothers are braver than they know, click here}. This guest post comes with love from Lisa-Jo Baker to our community in celebration of Mother's Day. If you haven't already - treat yourself, your mom, your sister, your BFF or your grandma to a copy of her new book, Surprised by Motherhood: Everything I Never Expected About Being a Mom. No matter what stage you're in when it comes to motherhood, we promise it will encourage. And remind you that you are braver than you think.

Your Story Isn't Over {Surprised by Motherhood Launch Day!}

I've been a birth doula for 5 years now and in that time I have held hands and hair through the wilds of labor, but today I'm calling myself a book doula because there is no book that I have cheered on more than this piece of beauty from Lisa-Jo Baker.

Mama friends, this book is for us. It is for all of us who share the story of having our hearts and lives wrung dry and filled full from raising littles. It is the gift you should put in every baby shower bag from here to eternity.

Here is a snapshot of my own motherhood journey and why I think Surprised by Motherhood: Everything I Never Expected About Being a Mom is a life-line of truth and hope to every woman who has ever mama-ed.           
When another car crossed the center line and slammed head on into my mother on a humid Carolina June evening I thought the story was over. I thought that my days of being a daughter had ended as abruptly as her life.

A little over three years before that night my father's heart had given up it's lifelong fight. I'd clung to my mother for the tether a child's heart needs. She had been my anchor when the storm had tossed all of us hard on the rocks. When my Dad's heart gave up my Mom's heart beat stronger and it found her on her knees in the wee small hours prayers, on beyond early morning drives to work to put food on the table, her journals full of Scripture and hope that kept us afloat when the world wanted to drown us.

There I was un-anchored and uncertain in the worst sort of way at the age of twelve. 

My untethered teen years found me wondering what it was like to be normal, to be like all the other girls butting hormones with their own mothers. I wish that someone would have warned me about how the grief would find it's way out through the cracks of a broken life in the most unexpected of places.

Fast forward a decade...It was early fall and I was piecing together handmade decorations for our tighter than tight wedding budget. I remember telling my sister-in-law over the phone, a motherless daughter herself, that I felt lost. That was one of the first times that grief snuck up on me. It blindsided me with the force of how much I missed her and the way it found me floundering and gasping for air.

Six years later and an ocean away from home in West Africa I found myself stretched body and soul and pregnant with our daughter. I was in total denial. Not here. Not now. I was the epitome of "surprised by motherhood".

It wasn't that I didn't want to have children. No, I never quite felt that way. I was convinced that I had been disqualified. By the time my first daughter was born I had been twenty years an orphan. Twenty years of being an outsider to the parent-child relationship.

Every question I ever had about my mom and mothering flooded my mind. I knew the mechanics of pregnancy and birth. I'd labored with women through the night as a birth doula holding hands, rubbing feet and nodding "Yes, you can!" to mamas exhausted and nearing the finish. It was everything after which terrified me. It was the knowing that birth is never the end and only just the beginning of the weary-wonderful ride of motherhood.

In the wee smalls of a January morning I bared down and my girl entered the world superwoman style with one hand over her head- a certain prophecy over this girl.This time I didn't pack my doula bag and get back in the car to make the drive home and collapse in my bed. This girl was my own flesh woven with DNA as thick as the Southern accents that run back a dozen generations in my family. She is a part of me and has rarely been a part from me since that day.

The surprises of motherhood began in a cement room where roosters crowed outside of our lappa curtained slat windows and nuns sang across the yard every morning, and they have continued every single day since.

Millie was born wide-eyed and got sent back from the nursery her first night for "disturbing the peace". She never slept. All the books and methods ever preached fell flat when tried out on Miss Millie. Her disregard for schedules and sleep brought me near the edge of lunacy. I've still not recovered entirely.

All the while God was breaking me and remaking me, teaching me what I had forgotten because I was so long an orphan. He places the orphans in families. We're programmed to think that means we get one as a child, but for me I've been placed in a family that is my own and I am the mother. Mine is a life come full circle.

Millie has dirty blond hair with a hint of curl at the back and brown eyes that take up half her head. At first glance she looks nothing like my mother. My mama had a mop of dark brown unbelievably tight curls and light blue eyes. But some days when Millie twirls and whirls around the room the light refracts and I catch a glimpse of my mama. I see her there and I know that eternity really is forever and that my mama's life and her story didn't end on the side of a road on a summer evening.

Whatever it is you think disqualifies you from motherhood- be it a failure, a loss, a shame, a grief so big it has seeped into every corner of life- let me say with your beautiful face cupped in my hands and with eyes locked, "Your story isn't over."

I'm so blessed to share bits of my story with you and my friend Lisa-Jo has written a book that is her story and battle cry of truth over the harder than hard moments of motherhood. I love this book like I love chocolate. <------{Click to tweet} Seriously ya'll, that means a whole lot coming from me. Says the girl that just polished off some brownies while writing this.

She wrote it for herself. She wrote it for us.

She wrote it to be the one to say our stories make us into mothers and even if motherhood doesn't initially fit like our favorite pair of jeans (even worse makes our favorite jeans obsolete) we can find our way to better, fuller, realer versions of ourselves.

Surprised by Motherhood: Everything I Never Expected About Being a Mom is a gem and that is why I want to invite you all to cheer Lisa-Jo on today by grabbing a copy of her book as it launches. She has labored long over this new baby of a book and today we all get to join with her in the joy of it all.

If you want a book that will wrap you in a superhero cape of courage to keep going in this motherhood journey then this is the one. It is filled with the Word and her own story from a woman who has such a gift with words and weaves stories like a cherished blanket. If you're like me your leisurely days of reading are gone, but I promise this book is not to be missed.

You can download a few chapters by going here, but I promise you'll want to read the whole thing. 

Watch the trailer with a box of tissues. Seriously, get the tissues.

Why I Think You Should Have Kids...Or Not...

Lately I've heard a lot of talk about why to have kids...or not...or why to wait to have kids...or not...and I've thought and thought about the discussion and what I could add to it...or not.

My hubs and I waited six years to have our first wild and crazy kiddo. Our waiting was purposeful. I was in school and then we knew we wanted to test the waters of living overseas before we made the leap with both feet and a couple of kiddos.

I'm glad we waited. I'm glad WE waited.

I'm not making any claims on the value of waiting. That's our story. God's story on our lives.

Here are a couple of things that I know for sure about having children at any point.

Children are a blessing from God.

Don't look at our culture. There are people on the internet {who I refuse to link to} who will try and convince you otherwise. Television and the interwebs will try and sway you with their Armageddon beckoning tales of life as you know it ending. They will dismiss and devalue raising tinies into big people and the work and effort that takes. Don't give them credence.

Will your life change? Um, yes. Are their people who have children who maybe shouldn't be parents? Everywhere. Everyday. But this doesn't change the fact that children are a blessing from God. A blessing. Every single snot nosed one of them.

Next.

Having children will change you.  

Think you're going to cruise into parenthood with your pre-child coolness still intact? {Cue every parent in the universe laughing at you} Tell that to yourself a year in when you realize you're eating something that your kid dropped on the floor or when you find that the reason you've been smelling poop is because it has been smeared on your foot for the last hour.

...and the coolness just drained out of you like a sieve.

There will be things that you give up. Dinner while it is still hot, quiet trips to the grocery store, quiet period actually, date night...any night, uninterrupted conversation with your spouse, clean...anything, reading a book meant for an adult, you get the point. Your gain is so much sweeter than any one let's on. Early morning snuggles, infectious laughter, baby socks, family dance parties, a little person with your shared DNA, eyes that wonder in ways that you've forgotten how, a whole new perspective, hope... 

But there are greater changes to be had. 

When we had our daughter it sent us for a loop. She didn't sleep. Ever. For over a year she didn't sleep and we didn't sleep either and we were cranky and cross and confused about how such a tiny person could contain so much energy to refuse sleep.

Having children will bring out all the ugliness in you. It will expose all the ugly places and the rough and cracked edges to the light and there will be times when all you will see is your own selfishness. It won't be pretty.

It will make you realize how content you were to not know these things about yourself. It will show you how much you liked a life where you felt in control and all you really had to worry about was yourself.

Might I suggest that maybe having children is part of the process for some of us of becoming more like Jesus. Let me restate that: "If God gives you children, and you lean into every exceedingly difficult and beautiful part  of it, it will be part of the process of you becoming more like Jesus."

A few weeks ago we were at a conference exhibiting and my husband and I were switching off wrangling our toddler. At one point I caught myself saying this out loud, "Thank you Millie for being a part of my sanctification." It was closely followed by something like "Don't climb on that" or "Shoes go on your feet" or "That isn't gum", but you get the point.

Don't not have children because you are afraid or downright unwilling to experience the change that it will bring. The change it will bring might just be the change you need. The exposing of your selfishness. The microscope on sin that is parenthood was meant to change us into more humble, needy followers of Jesus.

You will feel like you are failing at some point. Watch out for those places. That is where God meets you and shows you that parenting isn't about being perfect. It is about being perfected in Christ. 

The exact reason that parenthood is ineffably wonderful is the exact reason that parenthood is horrible, awful, scary and exhausting at times. It shows you your own need of Jesus while you're taking care of the needs of someone else. It keeps you on your knees and needy and that is where we have to be in order to really see Christ.

I know that some of you are reading this and longing for a child of your own. I don't give pat answers. I don't know if that is the way God will etch the lines of godliness onto you. I just don't know. You aren't any less without children. That isn't in the Bible and that is not the heart of this post nor the heart of God.

What is in the Bible is the truth that there is no condemnation for those in Christ. I pray that God gives you children if that is your heart's desire, but if He doesn't pursue His calling on your life and you will find the blessing and peace of knowing Him which is immeasurably precious and valuable in this life.

If you're on the fence about having children. Don't be.

I already said it. Children are a blessing. Children will change you.

If you can believe that children are a blessing then don't be afraid of how having children will change you. There are a lot of reasons to not have children and I won't tell you that without question you should have children. What I will say is that maybe what you need is change. I know that is what I needed and what God is doing in me through my daughter.

What a blessing. Change never felt so good.

{Maybe you're no where near having kiddos of your own. Consider sponsoring a child through Compassion International. I became a sponsor of a girl in Rwanda a couple years before my husband and I got married. She'll turn 18 this year and I'm so glad that I can call her daughter. Read more about the journey that a few bloggers have been on in Uganda this week as they have seen up close and personal the work of Compassion International.}


 

25 Things I Want My Daughter To Know Before Anyone Tells Her Different

She didn't sleep for the first year. You know how they say that babies can sleep through anything? She could hear a pin drop on the moon and it would wake her up.

Her second year she learned to sleep a bit better although we still rarely go a week sleeping all the way through the night. That would be too misleading for the old parents. Gotta keep it interesting.

Two years. Two years of glorious life. Two years of wild, unstoppable, fearless joy.

I wrote last year about how she has brought it all full circle for this motherless daughter. 

This year I have a few things I want to say...25 things to be exact. 25 things that I want my girl to know before the world tries to ring her dry of her wild, unstoppable, fearless joy.

1) Everyone feels "different" and the reason is because we are all uniquely made by God. Fitting in just means ignoring God's amazing creativity in the way that He made you. Be you.
2) You are never not my daughter.
3) Motherhood is a incalculably valuable and sacred calling. If God calls you to be a mama then embrace it with both arms.
4) Choose Joy. Choose Joy. Choose Joy. Sara did and it is still blessing so many of us.
5) Let your only expectation in this life be "To live is Christ and to die is gain"
6) Don't ever let anyone tell you that something is better with raisins than it is with chocolate. That is a physical impossibility.
7) You are a stunning beauty. Stunning. At some point you'll hate something about yourself. Come to me and we'll talk about it.
8) Don't be afraid to take risks. Scratch that. Don't be afraid. Period. Fear will hold you down and hold you back and Jesus died to kill fear.
9) Learn to give thanks for everything. I mean everything. The good. The bad. The ugly. Learn this rare skill and you will find joy everywhere.
10) Those risks I told you to take? (See #8) There are only a handful of things worth risking your life for. I advise you to make your greatest risk in life the great Gospel of Jesus. The Gospel that heals and saves and makes dead people alive.
11) You are loved the way that you are, but dang it...I want you to know Jesus and for His love and goodness to be changing you to be more like Him.
12) If any boy (and I do mean BOY) tries to tell you that he loves you more than your mama and daddy then ask him this one question: "Will you read me "Go Dog Go" 40 billion times?" If he says yes, then know this 1) He is a liar and doesn't have a clue what he is saying. 2) I did read it to you 40 billion times and though I wanted to plunge sharp objects into my eyes at some points I would do it all over again.
13) You are more important than my phone and my computer. You have permission to call me on it if I am choosing one of them over you. (See #3)
14) There will be mean girls. You don't have to be one of them. That isn't a requirement of adolescents. Look for the weak and love them with abandon. 
15) You are not adopted. Your big toe and your cow lick should be constant reminders that you definitely belong to us.
16) Your parents are strange. There is no use hiding our crazy. You're a part of it. God has called us to a unique work and you're along for the bumpy and unusual ride. Congrats kid, you won the prize.
17) Never stop dancing. Never.
18) It is completely acceptable for your most numerous worldly possessions to be books. Make them quality books that fill you with awe and wonder. That means no Twilight.
19) There is no gift too small in the Kingdom of God. Figure out a way to use your everyday and what little you have to shine Jesus into the darkest corners of the world.
20) Men that seem dangerous are just that; dangerous. Yes, bad boys are indeed bad boys. Stay away from the intrigue. It leads nowhere good.
21) Go easy on the perfume. Nuf' said.
22) Listen to good music. Justin Bieber does not qualify. Nor does Ke$ha.
23) You don't have to outshine anyone else. (See #1) You are unique and you shine and reflect God uniquely. It isn't a competition.
24) You've got one heck of a Daddy. Handsome. Smart. Brave. Jesus-lovin'. Find a man like him and you'll be set.
25) You are unbelievably loved and wanted by the God of the universe. Let that awe you your whole life through.

Photo by Wiseman Photography

There are a few dozen more I could throw in, but instead I will offer a simple Happy Birthday to the girl who undid me and a heart of gratitude to the God who remakes us, in Christ, into something way better.

The Real Art of Motherhood

Van Gogh, Kafka, Bach, Thoreau, Monet, Vermeer...

They were all artists that died without having received the worldly accolades they craved and even deserved.

I'm certain they spent sleepless nights at their craft and countless hours honing their skills only to be told that their work was worthless and less and than beautiful.

We look at their works now, paintings from Van Gogh, Monet and Vermeer, words from Kafka and Thoreau and Nocturnes that soar "Soli Deo Gloria" by Bach, and we wonder shocked how their gifts could have been overlooked.

Sometimes we miss the art that is right in front of us.  

I'm sharing the whole story over at (in)courage's Bloom Book Club today.

Head on over and read the rest of the story and then come back to my little corner of the blog world and leave a comment sharing your take on "the real art of motherhood" to enter to win one of two signed copies of Emily P. Freeman's newest book A Million Little Ways. 

 

Motherhood in Comparisonville

My sweet firstborn girl never once slept through the night during her first year of life. Not one.single.time. Trust me, I was there. I lost more than a few nights of sleep to a screaming newborn and I cried more than a few prayers into the winter midnight the year she was born.

In my head it was easy to believe that no other mama was struggling the way that I was. It was easy to sit in the nursing mama's room at church and think that the other mama's rocking away had it all together.

I'm over at Christen Price's place today sharing the rest of the story. Come visit me and read the whole story!

How to Calm Those Raging Mama Storms

Some mornings the hours from 8:00 am to noon can feel like a hundred years.

My sweet toddler rose early completely dissatisfied with every option offered to her. Breakfast was a messy failure. Getting dressed was an act of war. Outdoor adventure turned into a mouthful of potting soil. Tap dancing in the little red wagon became an exercise in gymnastic tumbling. A climb up on the kitchen chair ended in a graceless fall.

I'm prone to graceless falls myself- motherhood failures of the most graceless kind. 

I held. I cuddled. I sang. I wiped up the 400th spill of the morning. I fussed. I slammed. I sighed. I offered snack after snack after snack. I wiped tears, mud, grass stains, trace amounts of blood and a mouthful of dirt clean away.

All before 10:00 am.

I tightened my jaw and gritted and barred frustration and just felt plain ugly on the inside.

No matter how ugly the wee girl can act on the outside I am certain that I'm usually acting uglier on the inside. She throws her tantrums sprawled on the floor and I throw them inside my heart.

I need the grace that pursues to chase me down on the days that I am running bull-headed toward impatience. Ok, I need it to chase me down everyday.

I foolishly thought that raising little people was about fashioning children that are obedient and good. That seems like a noble goal, but maybe that isn't the heart of God? Maybe that isn't the goal at all. Maybe raising good children isn't what all this mama-ing stuff is about?

Could it be about raising grace loving children and a grace hungry mama?

It seems that these days, these long-houred-short-yeared days, need to be flipped on their head. I've got to learn to turn my face up when the day turns upside down. I need to learn that kneeling down my worn knees raises up a better mama, a more Christ-like and loving mama.

I put on the Pandora and set it to the Andrew Peterson station, the one that is a mix of good Jesus-filled songs that croon rest over our trying-so-hard day.

I pull out the Jesus Storybook Bible and find the one about Jesus and the wee man. The one where the God-man sees right past the outside and into the heart even when we are hiding. Isn't that what He always did? Found folks in their sin and cut right to their hearts. It cut right to my heart.

I write in crayon for her to see all the fruits of the Spirit and I tell her I am sorry that I haven't written them on her life today.

Sisters, all the retail therapy, anti-depressants, anger management, perfection driven living, venting sessions and candy bars in the world can't fill up a starving-leaking-like-a-sieve heart.

We need Jesus.
We need to know that we need Jesus if our children are going to know they need Jesus.

When they storms churn up anger and dredge up all the ugly we need to know that their is a way out and the way is always grace.

A few practical ways to calm the raging mama storms:

• Turn on music that speaks peace over the situation. My favorites are Andrew Peterson, J.J. Heller and Shaun Groves
• Read Scripture aloud. Grab your Bible and just start reading out loud. It will calm you and scare your kids- in a good way. 
• Throw your apron over your head- I've always loved the story about Jonathan Edwards' (the theologian) mother that said she would kneel in a corner of her kitchen with her apron over her head to spend alone time with Jesus. The kids knew to leave her alone. Must have worked because I think she had 18 kids. 
• Tack the fruits of the Spirit up on your wall and review them every.single.day. For yourself not for the kiddos.
• Put yourself in time out. Nuf' said. Sometimes we need it. 

Dear Weary Mom, Don't Listen to the Lies

Dear Weary Mom,

I busted my finger last week- as in got a hangnail then an infection and next thing you know I have an elephant-man-like finger in the middle of my right hand and I'm stuffing my hand deep into my pocket to avoid scaring small children. In the scope of life a small thing, but somehow it has felt huge and weighty. Somehow this antibiotic requiring infection has blown itself into something that makes me feel less than and incapable.

Do you know what I mean? Have you been there too? 

One minute you are hanging on for dear life making the ends meet as best you can and then the next minute you feel like it just isn't enough. Nothing you do is enough and all you can see are the cracks.

Maybe it is a stomach virus that wipes the floor with you or an argument with the husband that leaves you feeling like a failure and fake. Maybe it is simply words tossed thoughtlessly, a cranky child or a glimpse of dust bunnies under the couch. Whatever it is that sets the snowball of self doubt rolling we all know how quickly it can grow into an avalanche.

You see, we've got an enemy and he prowls around looking for us to mutter words to ourselves that aren't true. He listens for those words and then he whispers them over and over again verbatim into our ear and right down deep into our hearts if we let him. Boy, have I let him.

You're a failure. 
Just give up. 
Your family would be better off without you. 
You are worthless. 

He is the father of lies. The most evil villain there is and he is out to steal joy and hope and it will be stolen if we aren't running toward the truth.

Sister, when you see the cracks, crack open the Word. I know that you won't want too. I know that you'll feel like it won't help someone like you. Lies, again, all lies.

Jesus says that in Him you are enough. You are made perfect, clean and whole and so those dust bunnies, that rebelling teen, that infected finger...Give them all to Him. The one who says, "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me..." {MSG} 

You see religion means to be bound up to a set of rules and rituals. We can make a religion out of motherhood and it can nearly choke us to death. Christ calls us forward into grace and freedom. His Word calls us out of our pit of self-loathing.

Can't you hear His whisper now? It is gentle and full of love.

It sings grace for the moment, grace for the little that explodes into the big, grace enough for the weariest mama heart.

{I'm joining up with Hope for the Weary Mom today for their Dear Weary Mom, link-up.}

Weary Mom, If It's Hard You're Doing It Right

Dear Weary Mom,

I wish you could've seen my house two days ago. Dishes sitting in the sink way too long, and rings of disgusting in the toilet and toys strewn throughout our tiny home just waiting to find the center of your foot when you stumble through the living room at 2am toward a crying toddler.

You know. I know you know.

Today is better. I managed to unload the dishwasher just so I could re-load it. Oh, how I hate unloading the dishwasher. All I know is that there aren't dishes in the sink, the bathrooms aren't bio-hazard level dirty and most of the toys have been cleared from the center of the floor. It all seems like a small miracle.

This is a moment. A small moment of stillness in a sea of crazy. A small moment where the hamster wheel slows and I catch my breath. Like that break between contractions. Motherhood is labor and the breaks are few, but just enough so that we can nod to those around us and keep going. Sometimes that is all we get before the week is over and we start all over again.

I heard on the radio the other day a story about the changing roles of men and women in the home and workplace. One of the mothers in the story referred to her desire for a "more challenging career" outside of the home and I had to swallow hard and ball fists tight to keep from erupting in anger. Don't get me wrong, I support working mamas. I'm not arguing about that. I support every one of us who has carried babes in bellies, in hearts and on hips.

I just don't support pitting work against calling.

If motherhood isn't challenging you're not doing it right.

I'm not talking about the laundry and the dishes. Yes, that is a challenge on some days...ok, most days for me, but what I am talking most about is the raising of little people into big, whole hungry-for-Jesus-people. That is a challenge that keeps me on my knees and up later than I should be. 

We're always concerned about if we are mothering "right" and I've said over and over again to anyone who will listen that I don't think there is a "right" way and that all I know is that motherhood is hard. Really hard. All I know is that motherhood is hard, but Jesus is our help.

He calms angry seas and angry teens. He left us His peace and He picks up our pieces.

Weary Mom, if it's hard, you're doing it right.

This post is a part of the all new link-up over at Hope for the Weary Mom. Visit the site and read the other encouraging posts this week!

I Love You But...

At the core of each of us is a longing to know unequivocally that we are loved. 

When I found out I was pregnant with my first daughter I thought about all the things I wanted my daughter to know without question. At the tip top of my list was that I wanted her to know beyond any doubt that she is completely and fully loved.

I mean really loved. 

I want her to live all of her days knowing, from the start, that she was and is loved beyond measure.

Read the rest of the story today as a part of the Confessions of an Imperfect Mother Series over at Beauty Through Imperfection! 

A Guest Post for the (in)motherhood Ladies (or anyone else who reads!)

Today I've got a dear friend writing on the walls around here. Linda and I connected a few years back before my own family made a journey to Africa. She has been the bearer of encouragement and grace to my mama hungry heart on more than one occasion. I invited her to offer her story here for the women of (in)motherhood to read. The benefit is that her words will be read by anyone who drops by today. I hope you're as blessed and inspired by her beautiful heart as much as I am.

Blessings,

“Becoming a mama will hurt and the job is anything but easy (don’t believe the glossy ads),” writes Jessica Hoover, “but it will also make you more whole than you ever knew if you let God work grace in you and through you to its fullest.”

In only 15 months of motherhood Jessica had pinned down what it took me years to figure out.

So now, on the other side of motherhood, I assure you: Jessica is right.

Growing up, my priority dream was to be a mother so I was thrilled when I became pregnant and loved every part of it, even morning sickness.

But I was in for a surprise, starting with excessive tearing and blood loss. And like all new mothers, I dealt with sleep deprivation, exhaustion, chaos, inadequacy, and impatience. And questions: “Why didn’t God make women so that when they got pregnant, they grew another arm?!”

A season for radical, selfless love

But God, in His grace, gave me perspective: There’s a time and season for everything (Ecclesiastes 3:1), and I was in a short season. It was a time for giving radical, selfless love. (That gave me my first real glimpse of God’s radical selfless love, and that of my mother when I was a newborn. It was my turn to pass it on to baby Matt.) That perspective gave me hope and kept me going.

To do my mothering well, I had to make choices to do the job right. My husband and I chose to live frugally so I could be a stay-at-home mom. He was going to college full-time but was willing to also hold down a full-time job, bless his heart. 

Despite the 24/7 workload, I adored little Matt and marveled at God’s matchless gift. By the time his sister, my beloved Karen, was born, I had a more settled perspective on the radical, selfless love of motherhood.

A season for selfless, committed love

Sometimes mothering my young children felt unrewarding and I felt unappreciated (which gave me a glimpse of how God must feel about our response to His loving care).

I had entered motherhood during the feminist movement when vocal women bad-mouthed men, marriage, and motherhood. They said we should find our worth and fulfillment in careers outside our homes.  They scorned stay-at-home moms. Social pressure was intense.

Many young mothers joined the movement but I chose to live among the despised.

Why? Because of a burning commitment not to just mothering, but to mothering well which, I believed then and now, was a high calling from God.

I chose to live among the despised because while I was pregnant with Matt, this haunted me: In high school and college, some of my best church friends got into drugs and alcohol and messed up their lives—even though their parents seemed to do everything right. That really scared me. I didn’t want my kids to go astray. 

God impressed upon me that I had to raise my kids right the first time around. I wouldn’t get a second chance at it. God reinforced my perspective:  I was in a season, a time for selfless, committed love. God had given Matt and Karen to me as precious gifts and I needed to steadfastly carry out His high calling.  For that season, mothering was my career priority.

After the kids started school, sometimes I worked part-time outside the home but mothering remained my career priority: I always arranged to be home when the kids were home because God gave me this perspective: after the kids grew up, I’d have many years to enjoy a career and pastimes. God gave me peace in that perspective and that led to a sense of worth and fulfillment. My role in that season as Matt and Karen’s mother was my joy, my delight, my privilege.

A season for selfless, contented love

The time came when every newspaper, magazine, and TV ad told me my possessions were not good enough, new enough, or the right color. I wanted a bigger, newer house with matching furniture. I wished I didn’t drive an old car. I wanted more of the American Dream. That required money and that meant I’d need a full-time job.

God didn’t give me peace, though, about keeping up with the Joneses. Bible verses leaped off the page: Don’t long for material things. Don’t accumulate possessions; they only wear out and have no lasting value. (Hebrews 13:5, Matthew 6:19).

God really zinged me with what Jesus said in Matthew 6:32. Money and possessions are what pagans run after! Pagans! Did I want to act like a pagan?!

“Watch out!” Jesus said, “your life isn’t defined by the abundance of your possessions!” (Luke 12:15)

Instead, he urged us to make God the center of our lives, our first priority, and said, “Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met” (Matthew 6:33, The Message).

Again God helped me with perspective: I was in a season, a time for selfless, contented love. While my children lived in my house, they were my priority. I chose to focus less on material possessions, live within our means, and be content with the house and furniture we owned. That was God’s high calling for that season.

Don’t get me wrong: I was not a perfect mother. I made mistakes and have asked my kids for forgiveness, but, by God’s grace, Matt and Karen are remarkable adults. I know, I know—I’m their mother and I’m biased, but people I’ve never met have publicly acknowledged they are exceptional. 

My heart rejoices at what God has done.  

But hear me on this: Even if my kids hadn’t turned out well, I’d still know I hadn’t chosen selfish or material pursuits over my children. I’d still know I had done everything I could to raise them well.

A season for extra-radical, selfless, committed, contented love

{A special note to the single mamas among us}

Most, if not all, of you single moms don’t have the option I did: I got to stay home full time when my kids were little and part time once they entered school. But because I was raised by a single mom, I have some understanding of your situation.

After my father moved out, Mom worked like crazy as an elementary teacher to feed, clothe, and shelter my little brothers and me. She made many personal sacrifices to do so. She was in a season of selfless, committed love.

Mom did her best to carry out what is near and dear to God’s heart: to care for the fatherless, the vulnerable, needy, and powerless—those things recorded in the Bible from cover to cover. God also tells us not to turn away from our own flesh and blood (Isaiah 58:7). My brothers and I were innocent children, too young to protect and provide for ourselves, and God called Mom to focus on meeting our needs.

But she did more than meet our financial needs: She raised us in a happy home, a secure home, a fun and God-centered home.

Now, single moms, listen up: You are doing what my mother did. You’re doing what’s near and dear to God’s heart: You are caring for the fatherless, the vulnerable, needy, and powerless. You are caring for innocent children, too young to protect and provide for themselves. You are providing for your own flesh and blood.

Because I was and am so blessed by my mother’s commitment to God-honoring mothering, I really mean it when I say I applaud you single moms for doing your best for your kids emotionally, spiritually, and financially.

Let me say that again: I believe God will honor you single moms for your commitment to responsibly provide for your children.

Why do I believe that? Because by meeting your kids’ significant needs right now, you’re doing what the Bible describes as true worship, the kind acceptable to the Lord. Furthermore, God promises that if you fill needs of the vulnerable and needy, He will meet your soul’s needs—He will strengthen you and give you a full life—in dry and empty places. You’ll be like a well-watered garden and a spring that never runs dry. (Be sure to read Isaiah 58:6-11.)

I encourage you to remember: This is just one season of your life, a time for giving extra-radical, selfless, committed love.

Pray like crazy, trust God to take care of both your physical and spiritual needs, stay focused. Lavish your kids with love. Make your home happy, secure, fun, and God-centered. Take lots of deep breaths.

So, precious young mothers, I leave you with these thoughts:

• Give God and His purposes priority.

• He created your child in your womb—each eyelash, kneecap, fingernail; the unique way he’d laugh and she’d sneeze; the shape of her ears; his ability to sing. God has a detailed plan for each child’s life, (Psalm 139:13-16; Psalm 138:8) and in giving you that child, God has called you to partner with Him by being the best mother you can be.

• Choose selflessness over selfishness; place God-given responsibilities above your own pleasures.

• Your children will live in your house for a season, only a few brief years.

• Do your mothering right the first time; you can’t go back and do it differently a second time.

• What you do today and next week will determine whether you have regrets in the future.

• Hugs your kids and tell them every day that you love them.

• Keeping up with the Joneses and pursuing the American Dream are often in conflict with a life committed to God. Like Jessica said recently, the American Dream is too small! Pursue God-sized dreams!

• After your kids grow up, you can pursue any number of things. (Indeed I have. That’s a picture of me swinging on a vine in the Kakamega Rainforest in East Africa at the bottom of the page.)

• Pray every day, study the Bible, and train your children in the way they should go. That is your high calling from God.

• God is good and He has good plans for you and your children!

Whether you’re a stay-at-home mom or a mom that works outside the home, Beth Moore’s words will bless you. She addresses those, like you, who minister to those who “don’t have much to give back.” She says, “The satisfied soul is never a more beautiful display of God’s splendor than when willing to empty self for the lives of others.” (Breaking Free)

Remember, motherhood can make you more whole than you can imagine if your heart’s desire is God and living in His grace. 

 P.S. Don’t yell at your kids because … ahem … Have you ever yelled at them while you’re standing in front of a mirror? Is that how you want them to remember you?!

Linda and her husband worked with Wycliffe Bible Translators for three years in South America and eight years in Africa. Linda's memoir, Grandma's Letters from Africa, covers her first four years there. A former Teaching Leader with BSF International (Bible Study Fellowship), she now teaches memoir classes based on Deuteronomy 4:9, "Always remember what you've seen God do for you, and be sure to tell your children and grandchildren!" She also offers writing tips and inspiration at her blog, Spiritual Memoirs 101.