Hi friend! I am so glad you have stopped by the site. We have such a wonderful community of moms here and we would LOVE for you to join us as we share life and learn together!
How often do we truly see one another? Each mom in your circle is full of unique gifts given by God, and so are you! The church needs you. The world needs you. And women need one another. The start of linking arms for kingdom work begins here today.
At this moment I have children spread all over the world. My daughter is a missionary in Europe. My son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids are recent transplants to Hawaii. I have four children at home, and we'll be adding four more through adoption in the next month. As a mom I want nothing more than to have all my children together. I want them in my house or at least down the street. I want to see their smiles. I want to feel their hugs.
When I do nothing–
Something still happens.
And it’s usually not good.
When I don’t exercise–
I grow weak and flabby and…
I'm knee-deep in a long and drawn-out season of waiting. I’m waiting for our house to sell in Georgia so we can move closer to our family in Nashville and you know what I've learned the longer I've had to wait?
The waiting game is the hardest game because it seems like God isn’t answering my prayers and if God isn’t answering....is He even listening? Does He even care or has he completely forgotten me?
I think we all fall into the trap of people pleasing; even when it isn't fully conscious to us. We want to be liked, accepted, helpful, whatever and in order to accomplish this, tweak our personal convictions to do so.
This could include speaking a full truth to someone who asks for an honest opinion, but because you don't want to damage the relationship, you only share a half truth, which really is fully a lie.
Or, we tend to say "yes" to things we really don't want to do in order to accomplish the same goal.
“Mommy, come. I’ve found this path and there are so many flowers.”
It’s morning, and our second day camping in Jasper, Alberta, our favorite place on earth with its mountain peaks—like a father’s hands cupped, shielding this sacred hollow of water and spruce from the rest of the world.
I leave my coffee and follow my oldest son to the path he’s found and he points out the daisies, the bluebells, the buttercups.
