My dirty, sweaty 5-year-old is sitting on the back porch happily humming and throwing fistfuls of birdseed on the lawn. We’ll have an aviary here by morning. And my heart swells with joy as I take in this moment. Little boys are magic-in-the-raw. They’re a composite of lizards and sticks and rocks and snails. They climb and… Continue reading Painting
I don’t write much about motherhood because I don’t know much yet. I have one son, and he’s just four years old. But it doesn’t take experience to know what I’m about. I am raising a warrior. I’m not called to raise a cute conversation piece or a well-adjusted kid. I’m not laying down… Continue reading Raise that warrior
This Sunday, you will not be far from my thoughts, dear one. With every fiber of your being you long to be a mom. You were made for motherhood, and everything within you cries out against your barrenness. I remember. I was 35 when I gave birth to my first and only child. Due to… Continue reading To the barren one (on Mother’s Day)
Before my son was born, I had enough parenting ideals to create my own currency. I remember saying things like, “We’re not going to work our lives around our children; they’re going to work around us,” and “I will never let my child do that.” Some ideals have served me well because they are biblical… Continue reading Parenting by faith {not formula}
[When I wrote this over three years ago, I knew of only one other “older mom” of younger kids. I was in unchartered waters. Since then, I’ve met many more women in this same boat. If you’re feeling at all “late” or “laughable,” I hope this will encourage you….] September 2013 From four years old on,… Continue reading When motherhood comes late