For years my husband and I wanted to conceive, but couldn't. If you find your chest beating with mother's heart, yet there's no child to snuggle in your embrace, this post is for you.
I posted an open invitation on social media a few weeks back and LOVE the questions you all provided in comments and direct messages—many of which centered around spending time with God. Today's post is my answer to this great question: What does your prayer life look like on a daily basis? Before I get there though, let's start at the beginning. What's a prayer life?
I have all these pent-up concerns about motherhood locked away. Piled, stuffed, and thrown behind closed bedroom/closet/pantry doors so I can pretend they're not there—like that five minute cleaning job when you realize someone's about to come over.
God is opening some serious doors right now. Ancient carved behemoths with heavy hardware. Dreams larger than my imagination. Hopes so big I almost haven't had enough faith to believe for them. But right smack in the doorway of God's provision, I'm distracted by little things.
"If you hold your breath for the whole time in a tunnel you can make a wish and it will come true." I don't know where the idea came from, probably some game we made up during a long car ride. But from that point on, every tunnel offered wish fulfillment ... if we could make it through the darkness without oxygen.
I thought marriage meant you never had to feel alone. A built-in other half. Your BFF always down to hang out and work through life together. What I found is that I don't have to be alone to be lonely. The same way I can sit in a room full of strangers and be without the company of friends. But worse.
Motherhood is exhausting—physically, emotionally, and mentally. Even with sufficient sleep, I struggle with new tasks (like cleaning spit up off ... everything), new questions (what did people do before google?!) and fighting new worries (is his development on track?). So here are 5 verses I'm clinging to as a newly minted mom. My days—and nights—may be long, but I'm grateful I'm not stuck in the tired place.