My kids were sick a few weeks ago and had to miss church. I lay quietly on the couch stroking my daughter’s hair as fever felt like a sunburn, hot and sensitive across her skin. There was an inner exhale. It was Sunday. Today, I didn’t have to overthink my outfit. I didn’t have to hustle or prep my kids alone. Today, I didn’t have to worry about ...
In November, my two teen daughters and I attended Girls of Grace, an event put on by speakers and musicians who have a heart for teen girls. I’ve worn the title of mommy, mama, mom — it differs depending on the child who speaks it and the mood they’re in — for twenty-seven years, and as much as my girls needed a good word spoken, I needed support ...
My mascara assures me it won’t budge, its waterproof formula guaranteed to hold strong and not break down, even when I can’t make those same promises about myself. I tell her my story. She’s the first psychiatrist to really ask for it. Usually, they just ask what meds I’m on, which ones I’ve tried, which ones have left me sobbing into my pillow ...
My head dropped as my eyes squeezed shut. I willed the lump in my throat to disappear. My eyes blinked too many times in an attempt to hold back tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. Would it be weird if I got up and stepped out in the middle of the meeting? Terrible words rang in my ears. Annoying. Failure. Bad mom. Too much. Not enough — ...
I rubbed my bulging stomach, trying to appease the skin that was stretched and desiccated, begging me for assurance. We were expecting our first child, and at that point in building our baby registry, my mind was whirling. I wanted to hide from the bright white lights of the colossal store, but they reached into every aisle and reflected their ...
As we were picking out books to read and getting the covers cozy in the dusk of her bedroom, my then four-year-old daughter asked me out of the blue to pray with her to receive Jesus as her Savior. It was one of the most unexpected answered prayers and joyous moments of my entire life. I had prayed for her salvation before she was conceived, ...
We were sitting in Panera Bread talking over broccoli cheddar cheese soup (of course) when she got a text that changed the course of our conversation. She put her hands behind her head and leaned back, not in a relaxing way but in a fidgeting way. Her face got flushed, and she squirmed in her seat and said, "It's happening right now." She was ...
We really can't say it enough. (in)courage exists because of YOU! You, dear reader, who pulls your seat up to this table. Every time you read a post, we know that you are trusting us with both your time and your heart. We don't take your investment for granted! It's because you are so dear to us that we want to keep giving you opportunities to ...
Over the past few months, we've spent time and words zeroing in on what it means to practice true hospitality — the kind that Jesus models for us all and invites us to as well. We had a book club all about it, we've shared videos from our friends as they learn what hospitality looks like in their real lives, we’ve heard from you as you bravely open ...
A poor man inspires this little story, one you’ve probably heard. It’s called the Mexican Fisherman Story*, and it’s a parable about simplicity, about gaining more by doing less — indeed, about doing less for God. Thus, it's about living at God’s perfect pace, not just during Lent — now under way — but always. Here’s the story: An American ...
