Mountains are only moved by the force of the earth moving, which might as well be the hand of God. This summer has found me needing to hold on to that thought.
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We spent the last two weeks in Costa Rica, a country we’ve longed to visit for years, and now that I’ve seen it, it is a place I definitely recommend experiencing.
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The subtle vibrations of Matt’s alarm were enough to entice me out of bed Monday morning without a fight. The neon red clock read 2:45 am
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When I was pregnant with Cyrus, I (like most mommas-to-be) had a lot of fears about motherhood.
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I’m on a mission. A treasure hunt of sorts. Seeking out things that refresh my weary spirit. Perhaps you’re feeling a bit soul-weary yourself and could use some refreshing too. Here’s what’s working for me.
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Quite possibly my favorite thing about summer as a mom is the ability to unashamedly relive some of my childhood nostalgia through my two-year-old son.
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We live in an ironic time and place where a person could be involved in multiple conversations at once, in a coffee shop surrounded by dozens of people, and still feel the sting of isolation.
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Here we are halfway into the year already, the perfect time to take an honest assessment of where we are and where we’re going.
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Every day is a new adventure. Some days the adventures feel like sinkholes, some days they feel like the ultimate win.
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My journey toward wellness has been one of three steps forward, two steps back. The problem is, we often don’t start listening to our bodies until they are crumbling beneath us.
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School has a way of occupying your time and thoughts and filling a sense of purpose for a while – until suddenly it’s over and your days are wide open and you have to decide how to fill them.
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I can’t begin to tell you how much I have thought about this phrase in more than one way this past week. In terms of staying the course, I have questioned whether or not fostering was the right choice for our family. It has wrecked us.
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Mother’s Day takes on a vast multitude of forms depending on who you are talking to. I have friends who are mothers of biological children and adopted children, step-mothers, foster-mamas,
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Can I level with you? This morning, well it just has not been good.
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I’ve always been drawn to the big old Southern porches. There’s something romantically nostalgic about them, like they hold the secret to lazy summer afternoons and fresh squeezed lemonade and kids chasing fireflies after dark.
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As I sit in this quiet, empty living room, listening to the faint hum of the noisemaker breathing through the baby monitor, I’m overcome with this deep fulfillment but also an unrelenting sadness.
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It seems that everyone I’ve talked to lately is in need of having their cup refilled.. myself included. So I invite you to sit & linger for just a bit, pour yourself another cup of coffee, and let’s chat about what a full-cup, overflowing life might look like.
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Easter always sends me into a time of reflection and I often find myself on my knees as I take the time to remember what Jesus endured.
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When I was little, the idea of volunteering usually conjured up the image of ladeling out soup at a food bank on Thanksgiving day. If you wanted to give back to society
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This is a hard thing to admit, but I’ve been kind of a hot mess lately.
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