Motherhood isn’t beautiful.

I’m in the thick of it. I have a 21 month old, a three-month old, and every other week this fall is spent traveling 5 hours away, only to come home and restart/pack for the next trip. My life right now couldn’t be more un-glamorous. My days are filled with mundane tasks that seem to only pile on one another. I fight a toddler’s strong-will, a baby’s constant hunger, and my own postpartum depression daily. My husband is gone 12 hours out of the day, only to come home and often have to fix the pool, or the mower, or the dog fence, yet again. I currently have 6 loads of laundry waiting to be folded and put up. My floors haven’t tasted the sweet lemon-y pine goodness of PineSol in weeks and weeks. My hair is going on three days, and desperately needs some conditioning. And please, no one look at the state of my back porch, yard, and toes! Motherhood is days of crumbs and back aches, conversations about poop and going potty, shirts that smell rotten, diaper changes and tears, piles of papers and forgotten tasks, photos to edit and dinner to cook, dishes to clean, and carpets to vacuum.


Motherhood isn’t beautiful. But it’s not supposed to be.

The more I learn about motherhood, and this calling God has placed on my life, the more I see it’s ugliness apart from Christ. The tasks associated with mothering are ugly (and often sticky), but it is the process of motherhood that makes this calling into a thing of beauty. Luke 9:23 states, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” As a believer, it is an act of worship everyday to deny myself and pick up my cross. There’s nothing pretty about dying to my own selfish desires, in fact it requires total surrender. But that daily denial and surrender is just apart of the sanctification process.

The same is true with motherhood. Everyday, I deny myself. I deny my desires. I deny my petty thoughts. I deny living like a victim amidst the chaos surrounding me. Each denial is followed by an action. Whether it is putting away my husband’s clothes, or offering my breast to my child for nourishment. Whether it is stopping what I am doing to let my daughter brush tangles into my hair, or singing to her about her Savior. It is all worship.


When I make motherhood an act of worship. When I set my sights upon the cross, then all becomes beautiful. Gloria Furman states in Treasuring Christ When Your Hands are Full, “In the context of eternity, where Christ is doing his work of reigning over the cosmos, we need to see our mundane moments for what they really are-worship. In the daily (and nightly) work of mothering, we’re given tons of invitations to worship God as he reminds us of the hope we have because of his gospel.”

Choosing to worship in the middle of the mundane does not come natural to my sinful heart. And far too often, I choose victim of mundane instead of victory over the mundane. Life as a victim turns invitations to worship our Savior into worship of self. Worship of self then leads to loss of purpose. But choosing victory over the mundane, and worshipping through the sweeping and the cleaning, invites the Creator to inhabit my home with his awe-inspiring presence.Worship through the mundane opens doors for beauty to sweep in and turn isolation into communion, lonliness into fellowship, and insecurity into intimacy.

He alone brings beauty to motherhood, because He created it. And through His beauty, I experience the joy of watching my Star long to do the tasks that often seem so mundane. Through His beauty, I witness the security my girls feel wrapped in my arms. Through His beauty, moments that could frustrate instead turn to bouts of laughter.


1 Corinthians 10:31 tells me to “do everything for the glory of God.” There is beauty to be found in the process of mothering, it takes a denial of self, a heart of worship, and an action to bring Him glory. I have a living room with clothes strewn about, piles of papers to file away, and two precious souls napping. I am going to get up from this chair and meet Him in the midst of all the mundane and ugly, for there I will find His beauty.


To Read: Treasuring Christ When Your Hands Are Full




When reality isn’t so graceful.

If you scroll through Pinterest or Insta for any length of time, you are bound to see a sun-drenched room, a doting daddy, a beautiful, long-haired mama, and precious children all positioned perfectly for that moment in time. No one ever shares the moments or days before or after THAT moment. The picture cannot communicate the frustration heard beneath the parents’ smiles or the tears shed trying to get their little ones to cooperate. Perhaps, the dark circles under the mother’s eyes are photo-shopped out of the picture. Perhaps, the doting dad didn’t even want to be in the shot. Perhaps, the baby is currently sitting in a dirty diaper, and perhaps, the toddler hasn’t napped in days. But, for that moment, for the rest of the world to see, that family looks like they have it all together. And for people like me, even being fully aware of what it takes to get the perfect shot, my expectations are skewed. There’s nothing wrong with the photo itself, in fact, the photo should be praised for how it portrays a family, but it is my perception that is off. And if we’re being honest, my perception has been off for a few weeks.

Writing is therapy for me. Whereas I am reserved in speech, I am open in print. I don’t understand why God made me this way, and far too often I wish my mouth could convey my thoughts the way my hand types them. But alas, I am here, once more pouring my heart over the keyboard, bringing a slew of people I don’t know in, hoping and praying God takes these few words and uses them to minister to hearts.

Everyone tells you how insane life is with two under two. They share their horror stories and their sweet memories, and while their words were meant to encourage, I was often left with feelings of mommy guilt. Did we make a mistake by being “proactive” and starting to try earlier than later for a sibling for our girl? (Let me stop there and say, I fully know that fear is from the pit of Hell, the sweet baby sitting beside me, as I type, is by no means a surprise to my All-knowing God. She was brought forth at this time to accomplish His pleasing and perfect will.) Other fears like, how will I be able to give of myself to a busy toddler, a newborn baby, and a precious husband, all while taking care of my home and myself (in some way)? Will our toddler like her sister? When will I sleep and shower? How will J feel about a house full of girls? The list went on and on, I would lie awake at night swollen and hurting from pregnancy, savoring each kick, all the while trying to pray away the fears Satan placed in my head.

Then, Lettie arrived, and all those irrational fears subsided as I sat in a hospital bed watching my Star hold out her hands for her sister without even seeing her face. As I watched my husband hold both his girls, telling our oldest, his mini, all about her sister. As I smelled that sweet newborn smell, and felt her body match the rhythm of mine. My heart only grew, and for that moment, the image of my family rivaled all those images on Pinterest and Instagram.


Fast forward a few weeks, a massive kidney infection, a bachelorette party, birthday parties, graduation parties, a huge wedding, and a family holiday, a clingy baby, a busy toddler, a home full of projects, a new diet plan (to help Lettie), and learning a new routine, and this mama was left completely spent, sleep deprived, yet an insomniac, and feeling completely lost and out of control. Amid all the hustle and bustle of life, those baby blues had turned into Post-Partum Depression and Anxiety, and simply put at the moment of realization of what was happening, I felt low. Simply low and in a fog.



Those fears that had been put to rest crept back up, but this time those fears have been replaced with an identity crisis, a woman who feels her heart and her head are in complete contrast. A woman who is lonely but wants to be alone. A woman who wants to go and live life, but gets anxiety at the thought of seeing people outside her inner circle. A woman who is sick of laundry, but needs routine and order. A woman who likes her hair, but hates her body. A woman who seeks joy, yet feels a haze of sadness stealing the moments she expected. A woman who feels guilty for dealing with this during a time that is supposed to be filled with excitement. A woman whose home and heart look nothing like the graceful images on the computer or in Parents magazine, despite all her hopes and (unrealistic) expectations.


The reality is that my life isn’t so graceful. I am simply trying to keep my girls alive and thriving, while investing in my husband, and admitting to the fact that I need help and a change in perspective to lift this fog. I am taking the steps to get there:

  • Spending time talking with my Wonderful Counselor
  • Recognizing the need and asking for help
  • Communicating with my husband
  • Eating good foods (thank you dairy free)
  • Getting outside and being active
  • Finding order and routine amongst the mess
  • And being real with the world


The picture of my life doesn’t meet my expectations right now, but that doesn’t mean it can’t, and it certainly doesn’t mean that I won’t look back and wish for these days again. The beauty of this moment is that while my reality isn’t graceful, my God is abounding with grace. And it is only through the grace He extends me that I can be at peace again. How thankful I am to know His grace never runs out! Jesus Calling tells me He longs to make my life a glorious adventure. This ungraceful reality is all apart of His grand story, and even in the midst of my sorrow-filled fog, I still trust Him.

Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands. Isaiah 43:19 (msg)

Open up before God, keep nothing back; he’ll do whatever needs to be done: He’ll validate your life in the clear light of day and stamp you with approval at high noon. Psalm 37:5 (msg)

The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba,Father.”  The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. Romans 8:15-17 (NIV)



Dearest Daughter.

This year, I get to celebrate my first Mother’s Day with a baby in my arms, all because of you. I get to stand up and be counted among the other moms of the congregation, all because of you. I will be beaming on this day for the rest of my life, all because of you.

You, my dear, are the joy of my heart. You are my greatest motivation. You have inspired the very best within me in just six months, and through it all, you have only made me love your daddy more.

Right now, to you I am perfect. I bring you food when you need it. I clothe you when you are cold. I comfort you when you are sad, and I know just how to make you laugh. But, darling, you should know something-

I’m not perfect. I’ll never be the perfect mother, even as hard as I try. There will be days I get angry for no reason. There will be days where my speech will not be uplifting. There will be moments in which I fail to fully trust God. There will be many days where I completely fail at motherhood. But, darling, you should know something else-

Whereas I may fail at being the perfect mother, I will never fail you.

There will never be a day in which you will not know if I love you or not. There will never be a moment in which I won’t forgive you, no matter how bad it is. There will never be a day in which you wonder if your daddy and mommy are going to stay together. There will never be a day where you see me curse God, just because things get hard. There will never be a day in which you question the treasure you are to us.

While I am bound to fail at many things, I promise to show you the unconditional love that Christ has shown me. I promise to look at you with eyes full of love and grace. I promise to encourage you in the midst of trials, to bring peace to your heart when it is broken. I promise to display a love for your daddy that cannot be touched by any fairytale. I promise to teach you of your great worth to your Savior and to us. I promise to laugh with you, to make time for mommy daughter days, and to show you where your true beauty lies. Above all, I promise to live a life surrendered to Jesus each and every day.

Sweet girl, in many ways you and I share so many things. Your big eyes, milky skin, and wide smile set you apart. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m sure you will be bold and strong-willed, but reign in that power for more important battles. Boys will tell you anything you want to hear, wait for the one who tells you what you what God wants you to hear. Friends will come and go, but hold fast to your siblings and family, they never leave. Your mind is a beautiful thing, do not waste it seeking for the approval of others. Your heart is the shining star of who you are. Let it be a place of mercy, peace, compassion, and love. Let it meditate on the Word of God, and let those words fill up your entire being. My greatest prayer for your life is that you will know Jesus at an early age, and that you will walk hand in hand with him all the days of your life

Thank you for making me a mama. Thank you for making each new day with you better than the last. I love you with all my heart little star.


Dear Mama.

Dear Mama,

If you were to peer into my soul and see the reflection of the woman I want to be, the portrait staring back at you would be that of yourself. You would see a woman of beauty and grace, clothed in strength, with wisdom flowing from her tongue. You would see a woman whose eyes tell of forgiveness, and whose arms embrace with patience. A woman whose smile radiates confidence, but whose gentle voice speaks of humility. A woman whose mind shares her breadth of knowledge, and whose heart seeks to glorify Christ in all things.

You would see a woman whose house is a home to many weary and broken hearts; a home where laughter, joy, and peace reside. You would see a woman who selflessly cooks and cleans so anyone who comes to stay feels like family. The woman staring back at you would work hard to be healthy, while still teaching her girls that beauty is found in their hearts, not their outer appearance. This woman would be completely fulfilled in her calling as a wife and mom. She would be a portrait of femininity, even with dirt caked on her hands from a hard days work in the yard.

You would see a woman whose greatest lessons would not be taught at the front of the classroom, but rather they’d be taught gathered around her dinner table. This woman would make each holiday and season of life special, letting the excitement that comes with it bring a sparkle to her eyes. You would see a woman who would sacrifice any time or belonging to give to anyone in need.

You would see a mom who played with her children, and laughed with their daddy. A woman who respected her husband, and daily displayed her love for him. You would see a woman who is admired by many, and yet only cares for Christ’s approval.

Ultimately, you would see a woman whose impact for the Lord would far exceed the years of her life; a woman whose touch on this world would be unfathomable by our own standards. You would see a woman completely surrendered to God’s call on her life.

Mama, everything I could ever want to be in this life, is everything you are. Thank you for the beautiful example you lived out before me. Thank you for nurturing my heart, for teaching me about Jesus, and for showing me unconditional love everyday of my life. I love you more than I could ever express.

“Many women do noble things,
    but you surpass them all.”

Proverbs 31:29



4-30-2009 12;43;44 PM



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