Dear Kids, This Is What I Pray For You

This post was originally published on Her View From Home.

If a parent tells you they don’t have dreams for their children, they’re lying. From the moment the pregnancy test turns positive, your mind runs wild, and it never really stops. Of course, everyone wants good things for their children: happiness, love, and a family of their own. You constantly mull over your child’s future in your thoughts, wondering what their strengths and weaknesses will be and who they will become. It’s just our job as moms to worry—it’s what we’re good at.

I want you to be brave enough to make the right choices. And if it ends up being the wrong choice in the end, I want you to be brave enough to admit that.

I want you to value family. I want you to rush home at the end of the day to get to the dinner table and get the kids to bed. I want you to treat family as sacred as it really is.

I want you to be vocal in all aspects of your lives. But I also want you to know that words hurt, and once spoken, they can’t be retracted.

I want you to date with intent. I don’t want you to be frivolous with another’s feelings—that’s not fair to who you date, and it’s not fair to treat a relationship as anything less than what God intended. 

I want you to fail. Failure will teach you more than I ever can, more than books and teachers ever can. But, I want you to get back up with purpose and know failure is a step in the right direction. I will never let you fail so much you lose sight of who you are. 

I want you to always take the time to slow down—for your own mental health, for your marriages, for your children. The small things really are the big things and you don’t realize that until they’re gone.

I want you to always be a friend first. Set aside your differences with whoever is in question and remember to love them as God would. 

I want you to be persistent in all endeavors. Whether it’s a lemonade stand or medical school, I hope you never slack. Character is built when you struggle, and I don’t want you to give up just because you’re disheartened.

I want you to experience love and not just in the romantic sense. I want you to love learning and to love others. I want you to see love as more than hearts and realize it can be passion for what keeps you moving. Love truly knows no bounds—just ask your mother.

I want you to know that questions are good.

That means you are learning. That means you truly do, somewhere deep down, have the faith to ask the hard things. You know there is an answer, and you aren’t afraid to look for it. God answers in a million ways, and I know if you are brave enough to ask, He will always answer.

I want you to be open with your struggles. You never know who needs to know they aren’t alone. You never know who can find strength in your story.

I want you to find happiness within yourself. I don’t want you stuck in a job or life that leaves you unfulfilled. Do what brings joy and never settle for less—even if the paycheck isn’t as grand as what others have. Never rely on someone else to make you happy.

More than anything at all, I always want you to come home. Please, never knock on the front door. I want you to burst in and lie on the couch and let your worries fade away. I want you to know I will always be waiting on you to come through the door, with open arms.

There's Never A Good Time To Have A Baby

This post was originally published on Her View From Home.

There’s never a good time to have a baby. It’s true. There will always be something in front of you saying NO! There will more than likely always be the nagging thought in the back of your mind that says, nope, not right now, and it’s probably on repeat.

I think you could almost label it a scientific truth.

Every time you think you are ready to bring a precious child of God into the world, something will slap you in the face that tells you, well, actually you aren’t. A job loss, a health problem, fear in innumerable forms, the cost, distrust in the future, loss of self, the worry of losing your career, and as a real kicker, in recent months a global pandemic health crisis has been on the table.

All of these thoughts are valid. Every single one. They’re real and warranted.

But, don’t let them stop you. 

If you sat down and made a list of all the reasons to not have a baby, you’d run out of ink and paper before you even made a dent. More than you think can probably be erased.

The unknown fear of the pain of childbirth is easily forgotten as soon as you hold the baby bundle in your arms. How else do all these large families happen? 

The pure joy of a child learning a new thing—to walk, to talk, how to throw, how to play—all of these things erase the sleepless newborn nights. You truly do eventually forget them.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, can replace the baby snuggles. Nothing is sweeter or more euphoric. It’s a feeling that beats anything else in the world.

The fears you have before pregnancy and during the time of your growing belly eventually fade into the reassuring, tiny pitter-patter of footsteps down the hallway. 

The worry of the unrest future of the world becomes less of a forefront thought in your mind as you watch a tiny person learn their emotions and try to make the right choices.

Money will probably always be a worry throughout life. Don’t let that stop you from having a child. Money isn’t everything. God can, and will, provide in the most mysterious ways if you have even a little faith.

Something will always get in the way of having a baby.

Every time you want to have the discussion, something will more than likely thwart your plans. Nothing will ever be laid out in picture-perfect fashion to tell you, Yep! Now’s the time to bring a child into the world.

It’s true, there’s never a good time to have a baby. But don’t let that stop you.

The absolute pure love that will enter the world in the shape of some seven-ish pound, scrunched up and screaming human will erase any thought you ever had about wondering if it was the right time for you to have a baby.

I bet after you have the first one, you might not even think twice about having a couple more.

Dear Son, I Hope You Grow Up To Love Like Your Daddy Does

This post was originally published on Her View From Home.

I married your dad at 19 because of the person he was then. He saw me and took me as I was, and I thought there was no way I would ever love him more than I did then. I’m here to tell you, I was very mistaken. Watching him navigate life over the past eight years has shown me he is a better person than I could’ve drawn up for myself.

When you came along in your 8-pound, 6-ounce glory, kicking and screaming, the very first thing I thought was that you looked just like your dad. You still do in all of your toddler glory, and much to my amusement I have watched you love like he does, too. I hope that never ever changes.

I hope you never question reaching out to help someone even if there are others who tell you not to.

I pray you bust your butt to get home to your family for dinner like your daddy does.

I don’t want you to stay up all hours of the night worrying about how to provide for your family, but I hope you follow your dad’s example in always putting your family first. Even if your wife sometimes questions you. (Sorry, honey. Love you!)

I want you to go out of your way to be there for your extended family, but I want you to do it because you want to and not because you carry the weight of familial obligation. 

I hope you see the value in education and strive to always learn more.

I pray you support your wife and push her forward when she needs it.

I hope you always choose to see the best in people. Your dad is good at that.

I hope you are always the first one to say sorry. Your dad always is. Even if he’s not the one who’s wrong, but he doesn’t let people run him over. I’m not sure how, but somehow it makes him stronger. I want that for you.

I pray you lead with your head instead of your heart. Don’t get me wrong, your heart can pull you in the right direction sometimes, but more often than not you need logic. I’m not good at that, but your dad is the best. 

I want you to be headstrong like he is. Sure of yourself in all things, but not afraid to say you are wrong if you ever are. I’m not good at being the bigger person (truly, I’m the worst) but your dad sure is.

I hope you see other people’s insecurities and never bring attention to them. I want you to handle them with care.

I hope more than anything you grow up and love like your daddy. I pray you take the best pieces of him and magnify them even more. I don’t think these things will be hard for you. 

I already see you emulating the characteristics that are laid out before you each day. I know if you hang on to these examples, you will grow into a man who loves better than most anyone I know. You have the best teacher.

I Never Thought I Could Love My Husband More Than the Day I Married Him, But I Do

This post was originally published on Her View From Home.

I married my high school sweetheart at 19. White dress, big southern wedding—the whole shebang. We met in middle school. We went to college together. We now have two lovely little kiddos we get to call our own. We go to church on Sundays and do our best to pray together. Fairytale kind of stuff, right? 

We have also moved half a dozen times in the almost five years we have been married. Moving brings out the worst in me so I feel it needs to be mentioned. We have argued more times than I can ever count, granted the majority of them haven’t been over very important things. Nothing is worse than pointless arguing—let me tell you. I have said words in the heat of the moment I later regret.

Our relationship doesn’t look like it did almost eight years ago when we first started dating. And you know what?

I love where we are now even more than where we were back then.

The butterflies are gone, but the steadfast security of love and a promise keeps us grounded and together. 

I won’t lie though—my insides do a little happy dance when he comes in the door from work.

The grand gestures (I’m looking at you, promposals) are few and far between, and honestly, so is date night for the most part, but I’m perfectly OK with that. Now when he brings home flowers, I almost immediately ask him what he wants. We both get a good laugh out of it.

The best things to me now are my husband putting the kids to bed when I need a break, him getting up with the baby at night so I can get some much-needed sleep, or him cleaning the kitchen after I’ve had a long day. It’s laughing together over stupid mistakes and dreaming together about our future.

Our romance is much different than it was eight years ago, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

We’ve seen each other at our absolute lows and been there to experience each other’s highest highs. My husband knows me better than I know myself most days. I’m so very grateful for that.

We have lived on ham sandwiches and ramen for weeks in college, spent Sundays counting quarters at the coin laundromat, and stayed up way too late quizzing each other for all of those finals.

We’ve now also been there for each other as we tried to navigate finding healthcare, buying a house, and having a son in the NICU. It’s hard to keep the butterfly feelings alive in the most stressful moments of life. That doesn’t mean you love your spouse less, it just means together, you have more to focus on than just each other at that point in time.

My husband has been there to help me birth two babies. He has been there to support me from the moment the pregnancy test turned positive. He has nudged me forward when I thought I couldn’t take another step. He has pushed me to follow dreams I never thought would come to fruition. He is my biggest supporter and strongest advocate. He’s also absolutely not afraid to call me out anymore when I need to be brought back down to earth. I need this, too, and he knows that. 

I never thought I could love my husband more than the day I married him, but here I am doing just that.

Watching him fold laundry or eating takeout at home after the kids are asleep makes me happier now than anything did in our high school dating days. Seventeen-year-old me would scoff at the thought, I’m sure. 

The fairytale, butterfly feelings don’t last forever. It’s great while they do, don’t get me wrong. I will truly never forget how I felt on our wedding day, but I’m glad the fairytale ends.

I like where we are now even better.

The butterfly feelings at the beginning of a relationship can, and will, expand in ways you never thought possible if you let them.

The fairytale feelings have evolved into something much greater than teenage me could have ever dreamed. They will always be part of our story, no doubt about it. I can reminisce on the early days at any time, but I wouldn’t trade where we are now for the world.

I'm Too Exhausted To Pray

This post was originally published on Her View From Home.

I can’t remember the last time I prayed.

I feel incredibly guilty saying that. But, it has become my reality lately. It’s not something I’m proud of and, surprisingly, my lack of praying isn’t due to a faith crisis. I’m not struggling with doctrine, scripture, philosophy, or my church. 

I’m simply exhausted.

I have a constantly sick toddler who is also in the midst of potty training (seriously, I should be praying, ya feel me?) and a newborn, I haven’t been to church in what feels like months. My faith is still strong, I know who my Father in Heaven is and I know what Jesus means to me. 

I feel like I should be doing better.

My kids need a good example and as a mom, I know it is my duty to teach my children the ways of the Lord. But, it’s hard sometimes. Honestly, it’s hard almost all the time. 

At the end of most days, I want to just crash into bed as soon as the kids are down for the night. I know I’ll just have to get up again in a couple of hours. And then again a couple of hours after that to tend to one, or both, of my kids. Wash, rinse, and repeat every night what feels like a thousand times. I’m hoping the trek up and down the stairs stops before they move out.

I love my kids with all my heart, but they are the source of my exhaustion most days. Don’t get me wrong—I wouldn’t change it for anything in the whole wide world. But, it is a fact. Kids are tiring. 

They wear you out mentally and physically, and lately, I’ve let that exhaustion carry over spiritually.

I know I am not alone in this.

I can’t remember the last time I really, actually, truly prayed. I mean, down on my knees with a clear head and heart, pouring my soul out to Heaven. I’ve said plenty of silent prayers throughout my busy days, albeit mostly half-hearted. I’ve started plenty of prayers lying down in bed at night, but never finished them because I’ve fallen asleep before I can say amen.

I’m here to tell you those prayers, even though you may think they may not be right, are not wasted. They are valid and heard. I have seen the truth of this in my life.

Jesus meets us where we are.

If we try even the smallest prayer, I know without a doubt it is heard in Heaven. Even our most measly attempts are met with grace and understanding.

Exhaustion is part of motherhood’s job description. Heaven knows that. Being a mom is a high and holy calling. Keep trying. Keep saying those silent, and even unfinished, prayers throughout all your days. Let Heaven be on your heart. Extend the same grace to yourself that you extend toward your children and that our Father in Heaven always extends to us.