Posts Tagged ‘motherhood’
Still, Slow, Stoke, Save My Anger
Still my anger, Lord over milk spilled toothpaste wasted urine everywhere but the toilet Slow my anger, Lord when I am constantly interrupted my plans are thwarted my children misbehave and I feel embarrassed when I go without sleep without food without a moment of quiet Stoke my anger, Lord when children go without food,…
Read MoreEmbracing the Spectrum: A Journey of Love and Neurodivergence
As I leaned over his crib, a tumult of emotions swirled within me as I attuned to the gentle cadence of his rising and falling chest. His soft, rhythmic newborn breaths and those distinct half-lidded eyes—a trait he still holds onto—whispered of dreams beyond my comprehension. My fingers gently cradled his petal-soft newborn hand, its…
Read MoreThe Grandparenthood
I was sitting on the couch holding the newborn who was trying to fall asleep and burp at the same time. The gentle rocking wasn’t helping, but the soft humming I was doing seemed to soothe him, at least for now. My left arm having fallen asleep, I switched him to the right arm which…
Read MoreIt’s Fine. Everything’s Fine. (Except I Lit the Fire.)
Have you seen the meme of the dog sipping coffee amongst the flames? The one where he says “It’s fine. Everything’s fine”? Most days I am that dog, sitting calmly through the chaos. And yet, I also lit the fire. My anger frightens me. It lies dormant beneath a peaceful exterior, surprising everybody, including me,…
Read MoreLights-On Love
I jumped as someone pounded on my front door. On a sleeting Tuesday morning in November, at the height of Covid isolation, we certainly weren’t expecting anyone. I cautiously opened the door and saw a teenage boy standing on my front steps. He was breathing heavily; I could tell he had been running. It took…
Read MoreThe God of Wailing and Rocking
For a few days before and after my youngest child’s sixth birthday, I was very emotional. I couldn’t stop sobbing in the little moments of my day. It was mildly alarming, until, of course, I softened enough for a memory to resurface. “How long has it been since you’ve held your baby?” the nurse asked,…
Read MoreThe Life, Death, and Resurrection of Caregiving
I am only beginning to chip away at the mystery of what a profound gift it is to be called in ways big and small, to respond to others as Jesus did. That is not to say I am particularly good at it. Occasionally though, I catch glimpses of this grace through the bleary eyes…
Read MoreA Litany for Mothers
From the belief that I am alone in my motherhood, deliver me Jesus. From the belief that my productivity lies within a completed checklist, deliver me Jesus. From the idol of business, deliver me Jesus. From the belief that my husband and I are the same, deliver me Jesus. From the self hate about all…
Read MoreThe Invisible String of Foster Care
The call from the social worker came when it usually does, which is to say at a completely random day and time. There was a baby boy getting ready to be discharged from the hospital, but his birth parents were unable to care for him. Would my husband and I be willing to foster him?…
Read MoreBroken for You
When his crying woke me, night had already descended. Worn down by seven weeks of sleep deprivation, I’d put myself to bed before sundown. This was how I’d survive the grueling newborn stage again: I’d “sleep when the baby’s sleeping” away my tiredness. I pawed at my phone and checked the time. 2 a.m. I’d…
Read MoreThe Privilege of Friendship
Gathered around the familiar multi-purpose, formica folding tables, I was the youngest of the group by at least ten years. Thursday Bible study had become a treasured time because of the insight, wisdom, and humor that these wiser women shared with me. One day, as a new session began, some younger women invited me to…
Read MoreCount Your Crosses: The Graces of Fortitude and Perseverance
The cold had run its course through our whole family, taking down each man, woman, and child for days at a time, eating up the entire month of March in early 2011. While everyone else recovered, even five-month-old Teddy, Fulton struggled, weak and congested, long past the point when the other four were back to…
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