The Christian Mom’s Mindset for a Peaceful, Joyful Holiday with Her Adult Kids

The Christian Mom’s Mindset for a Peaceful, Joyful Holiday with Her Adult Kids

Has holiday planning with your adult children increased your stress levels and you’re barely into November?

Maybe you can relate to Julia’s story:

Julia settled into her comfy chair with her morning coffee. Worry bubbled forth as she imagined what the holidays will look like this year. Her oldest, John, won’t be home as he’s heading to his wife's parent’s home. “I’ll never get used to sharing my child with another family,” she thinks, “I just don’t like it.” 

Her middle daughter, Elizabeth, won’t commit to plans. “Why can’t she just communicate with me? It’s so frustrating,” she sighs. “She seems annoyed with us all. We’re hardly even a family anymore. Why does it all have to be so stressful,” she wonders.

Connor, her youngest, will be home from college. “He never seems to want to be with us,” she thinks. “He’s always running around with his friends. I feel lonely and forgotten.” 

 “Lord, I need you. I’m overwhelmed and I don’t want our holidays to be stressful. I give everyone and everything to you. Please help me,” she whispered, as peace washed over her soul.


Mom Stress

Preparing for the holidays has never been easy for moms. Most of us have carried the mental weight of holiday planning for decades and the stress continues as our children reach adulthood. 

We all face many of these common stressors:

  • Sharing our married children with their in-laws.

  • Step-families and the juggling that requires. 

  • Tension in our adult children’s relationship with each other.

  • Our children have abandoned the religious views of their upbringing. 

  • No one in our families pitches in for meal prep and cleaning.

  • Our adult children are resistant to making family plans.

Talk about stress. No wonder we dread this time of year. It feels like too much, and we’ll just be disappointed again.

What if there was a way to shift our thinking? Could we adopt a healthier view, so we don’t end up crushed and disappointed? How could our holidays look if we entered them from a posture of surrender? 

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How to Support Your Struggling Adult Child

How to Support Your Struggling Adult Child

“The name of the Lord is a fortified tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.”- Proverbs 18:10

Amy’s Struggle

Julie felt the weight of her grown daughter’s struggles. Tension pressed across her forehead as she rehashed yesterday's conversation with Amy.  Amy had landed a job shortly after college, but then sunk into a depression after her long term boyfriend called it quits. Heartbroken and sad, Amy checked out. She no longer cared for herself, and called in “sick” to work, often. 

As a way to support her daughter, Julie agreed to a nightly check in phone call. At first Julie felt relieved to hear from her daughter, but as time progressed, so did Amy’s complaining. Amy was spiraling into bitterness and hopelessness. 

Julie woke one morning after another fitful night of sleep and prayed, “God, I cannot do this anymore. Amy is exhausting me. Please give me wisdom to support Amy without taking on her emotional load. Give me courage to set some boundaries with Amy because I’m losing myself in the pain. Amen.”  

How About You?

Have you ever faced sleepless nights and days of worried thoughts because your grown child isn’t thriving?

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How to Be a Haven for Your Adult Child

How to Be a Haven for Your Adult Child

“Love does no wrong to others, so love fulfills the requirements of God’s law.” - Romans 13:10

Oh how we enjoy family time together! 

Our robust family of thirteen is spread across Missouri, Illinois, Minnesota, and Iowa. We gather together two-three times each year. When they were young, I never imagined the physical distance between us. It’s hard for all of us. The kids are constantly bickering about which state is the best to live in and why don’t we all join them there. 

Our adult kids traveled hundreds of miles and descended on our home weary and stiff, but happy to be there, for the long July 4th weekend. Hugs were shared as each family trudged up the front steps with suitcases and a few pets. 

Our normal, tidy home for two, was bustling with chaos and activity. The diabetic cat and the hyper Goldendoodle weren’t too fond of each other. We were vigilant to keep them apart. The coffee pot never stopped humming, and we went through an insane amount of Coke. Each family was in charge of a meal, from grocery shopping, prep, cooking, and cleanup. The bathrooms were busy, as the washing machine spun the dirty towels.

My Family Is Just Like Yours

We’re like any normal family. We have different values and beliefs. We say or do things that are insensitive. We get miffed with each other. We have our share of struggles, including mental health, financial, job transitions, friendship despair, philosophical, and religious differences, but we have purposed in our hearts to create a home where our grown kids are loved and welcomed, just as they are. We endeavor to apologize when necessary and listen well.

In her book Love, Pray, Listen, Mary DeMuth says this: “Your job is to create a haven relationship, one where your adult kids long to be near you because of how they feel in your presence.” It’s the heartbeat of what we’ve created with our grown children. We want to be a safe space for them. We want them to enjoy being with us. We want to love them as Christ loves us. 

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Prodigals Need to Be Loved

Prodigals Need to Be Loved


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Long ago the Lord said to Israel: “I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.” - Jeremiah 31:3

Tears in the Hallway

Flustered Erica dabbed the tears from her eyes and begged God for the courage to hold it together today. She bumped into her friend Julie and her mom, Nancy on the way into Bible Study. She tried to hide her tears, but they spilled out in the safety of friends. Julie reached out to Erica and pulled her into a warm hug. “Erica, what’s wrong?”

Choking back the tears, “I’m so upset! I don’t know what to do. My daughter was arrested last night. There was a huge party, and it was busted, and they were taken in. She’s so far from God, and I feel like a failure. Can you pray with me?” Erica sobbed. “Of course, sweet friend,” said Julie. Wise Nancy, with the warm brown eyes and kind grin, didn’t seem concerned at all. She placed her hand on Erica’s shoulder and said with a sly grin, “Oh sweetheart, she’s just working on her testimony.” 

Erica laughed and felt the tension ease from her body. Julie handed her a Kleenex, and they took in the truth of the poignant statement. Elizabeth was right. Calm settled over Erica as she realized God was still with her daughter. This wasn’t the way she wanted her daughter's story to go, but she couldn’t deny God's presence. 

They bowed their heads in the church hallway to pray. Erica’s breathing slowed, as the tears the tears stopped. She heard the still small voice whisper to her soul. “She needs your love more than anything.” Stunned by the revelation, Erica headed the voice of God and knew the best thing she could do was love her prodigal. 

Have you felt the sting of your child making poor choices?  Are they far from God, and you don’t know what to do?

It’s stunning what the Lord revealed to Erica in the midst of silence. When we pause and bow before Him, He speaks. We want to fuss and carry on when our children stray, but God invites us to love our prodigals well.

 We often focus on how we lack and our feelings of inadequacy. We shake our fists to heaven and say, “God it’s not supposed to be this way!” We’re distraught, confused, and disappointed. Yet amidst all that turmoil, God calls us to a higher assignment, love. It’s the upside down ways of the kingdom as we are invited to participate with God in His good work. 

What can we learn about God’s love?

When the Israelites roamed the desert for forty years, hell-bent on doing things their own way, God was incredibly patient. They constantly disobeyed God. The children of God bowed down to idols, complained relentlessly, and married the wrong people. They were stubborn and rebellious, yet God never gave up on them. 

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How to Release Holiday Expectations

How to Release Holiday Expectations

“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” Hebrews 4:16


Holiday Tension

As the calendar flips to November, my thoughts turn to holiday plans and the air is ripe with tension as I wonder if and when I’ll be reunited with my grown kids.

Momma, do you feel the tension too?

I have precious memories and traditions and I can’t bear the thought of them not continuing. My heart is full of expectations on how the holidays will look, but I know that my refusal to budge causes irreparable harm to my family.

I long for the days when the kids were near. There was no doubt we’d be together around the table at every holiday dinner. My grown kids are all returning home to celebrate their dad’s birthday mid-November, so that means I won’t see them all for Thanksgiving. Instead of them all coming home, we’ll gather at our oldest son’s home in Minnesota, along with some of his siblings. I must adapt. I need to have a good attitude about it.

There are plenty of reasons why your holidays could look different. Your child might want to spend time with their significant other. Perhaps work doesn’t allow them to return home. Maybe they’re tired of the endless holiday shuffle from home to home with cranky grandkids. Could it be that they need to be with their in-laws this time around? What if they just want to have a simple Christmas at home?

Moms are required to lean in and find strength in God as we release expectations for the good of the whole. Instead of causing strife in our families, by demanding our grown kids celebrate the holidays a certain way, let us choose the way of least resistance, as we learn to let go.

  • Could we lean in and find strength from God as we realize the holidays will look different now that our offspring are grown?

  • Would could it look like if we laid down our demands and chose the way of peace?

  • What if moms laid their expectations at the feet of Jesus and processed the loss with Him?

  • How would a mom filled with gratitude communicate graciously with her adult children?

  • What if guilt was replaced with compassion?

  • What if pressure was exchanged for peace?

  • Could the art of compromise be practiced so everyone feels like their voice is heard?

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How To Trust God

How To Trust God

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?”-Psalm 56:3-4

Desperate Situations

I reached for my phone, as my Moriah’s name appeared on the screen. “I need to get out, mom,” she said resolutely. I sighed a prayer of relief. I rearranged my schedule and drove the four and half hours to help her pack. Thoughts rolled through my head, on the tedious drive, as I flung desperate prayers to heaven. God please, let him not be there. Please help us get her packed quickly. Please heal her broken heart. Fear and relief marched side by side in my mind.

We huddled in the closet of her loft apartment in downtown Des Moines. The concrete floors were cold beneath us, indicative of the mood, as Moriah riffled through her clothes.

Hot tears streamed down her face, as anguished cries escaped her mouth. “I’ve ruined everything. My life is one big disappointment!”

I sat beside her, heartbroken and afraid. What can I do? What should I say? These questions raced through my head as my daughter prepared to leave an unhealthy relationship. I waffled between resentment and hopefulness.

I felt satisfied with her determination to acknowledge and respond to the red flags in her relationship. But at that moment, I was certain my heart would break for her vulnerable state. “You are the bravest young woman, I know.” I choked.

I held her tight, willing her to receive some of my strength. God met us there, on the frigid floor. She may not have recognized it, in her pain, but He buoyed me, as my heart sank. I had never experienced this depth of powerlessness with my child. I doubted my skills to handle it well. I was desperate for Godly wisdom.

Oh, how I wanted to rescue and fix her all those months. We had conversations about his behavior and what it meant. Deep down, I resented him, but I simply said, “if you stay, it will be hard.” I could not tell her to leave because it was not my place. She had to realize the complexities of her situation and make her own decision. By the grace of God, she did, as courage welled within her.

Midlife momma, our children will face situations where we will want to fix and rescue. We will want to scream, “Don’t do that!” but in this phase with our kids, we must hold our tongues. This will be the season we cling to God. We will trust Him.

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How to Taste God's Goodness

How to Taste God's Goodness

We are finishing up the final attribute needed for a close connection with God: a hunger for God’s Word. Have you ever thought about your relationship with the Bible and how that impacts your connection with God? We’ll be talking about it all month on the blog. Today day I’ve invited a dear friend, Sarah Butterfield, to share a beautiful piece she wrote about how to taste God’s goodness. You’re going to love this.

How to Taste God’s Goodness

When we moved to France when I was seven, my mom discovered that peanut butter was an American product. She searched high and low in every grocery store, determined to find that quick and easy lunch spread. One day, she came home with a tin can: she had finally found peanut butter in a specialty grocery store, imported from North Africa! She opened it with a can opener and although the stuff inside was hard to spread, it tasted fine.

The French preferred their Nutella, a snack my mom only gave us as a dessert. Our French friends would scrunch their noses in disgust when my mom talked about peanut butter. “You mean a butter? Made from peanuts? Ew!”

One Sunday at a church potluck, my mom made a chocolate cake. For the frosting, she whipped together equal parts Nutella and peanut butter. Our French friends loved it and raved about the frosting. My mom waited until everyone had finished their slice before revealing that there was peanut butter in the recipe!

In high school, I met Liz. She had grown up in Jakarta as a missionary kid, and she was in love with peanut butter. I had never met a bigger fan. She put it on rice, on noodles, on chicken even! Liz was the one who told me to try peanut butter with apple slices. I was skeptical, having only heard of peanut butter on bananas or celery stalks. She cut up a green apple and topped it with a dollop of peanut butter in a bowl for me. An unlikely combination I thought. But, not wanting to offend, I took a bite, and my world was opened wide. The cool, crisp tartness of the apple alongside the smooth, savory peanut butter was a revelation. I became an instant fan. That was the year I also discovered pretzels and peanut butter, so you could say that it was a time of tremendous personal growth.

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I'm Assured God Works For Good In Every Situation

I'm Assured God Works For Good In Every Situation

In the midst of pandemics and social injustice, it seems ridiculous to mention, my tailbone, but here I am. For a few years in my early forties, I practiced Pilates. Pilates is a workout of stretching and toning. It’s low impact and seems good for this reluctant exerciser. A lot of the moves are performed sitting on your tailbone. As a result of these exercises, I develop a bone spur on my tailbone. I know, go ahead and laugh, because I think it’s absurd too.

It’s been ten years since the spur first developed. Removing it isn’t an option because it’s risky surgery, but, hey, it only hurts when I sit or lie. I’ve tried a few different coccyx cushions, but it’s embarrassing lugging those around, so I shift in my chair; surprisingly, soft chairs cause more pain than hard.

Adding insult to injury, I was rear-ended in 2014, on a sunny September day, which left me with chronic neck and mid-back pain. During months of doctoring, I also discovered I have rare thoracic scoliosis. My once healthy body seems to reject healing.

After years of therapy, massages, chiropractic care, and non-traditional treatments I gave up on pursuing healing via medical doctors. The physical pain of varying degrees is now a part of my daily life.

As a normally joyful, optimistic person, I don’t mention my pain often. I don’t see the point in wallowing in it or bringing it up. If I’m having a rough day, my hubby knows, and he’s faithful to pray for me.

I believe in the healing power of God. I’ve witnessed miracles of healing and restoration, personally. It’s a little bone spur, and the God of the universe could flick it off if He wanted, and yet, He does not.

There are seasons where I cry out to God for healing and others where I remain silent. If I’m honest, on my worse days, I feel disappointed and overlooked. It’s on my low days, Papa and I talk; I confess my frustrations and am met with bundles of compassion for God is familiar with pain. He is equally present with me in my joy and my pain. As we talk, He leads me back to the truth from His Word about His goodness.

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Refining Series: A Mother's Grief

Refining Series: A Mother's Grief

We are wrapping up our Refining Series today with a powerful story about grief. I met Bekah in an online writing group called Hope*writers and was part of the launch team for her newly published book, Can’t Steal My Joy: The Journey To A Different Kind of Brave. Bekah shares the story of her two sons’ diagnosis with an incurable genetic disorder. In a matter of months, she lost her firstborn, Titus and now battles the disease with her son, Ely. Her book is the most honest portrayal of pain juxtaposed with the hope of Christ. I read her book in one sitting and came away inspired and challenged by her courage through a devastating loss. It’s an honor to share Bekah’s story.

Bekah’s Story

I grew up in the southeastern desert of Idaho at the base of a beautiful mountainscape. And I loved the mountains, but some of my favorite memories growing up came from our vacations to the central coast of California where my grandparents lived. When we visited, we knew we were always in for a fish fry, a Santa Maria BBQ, and trips to the beach.

And oh, how I loved the trips to the beach! We would catch sand crabs and put them in a bucket, watching them burrow back down to safety. I loved walking along watching for the little bubbles that would tell you to start digging because a crab was sure to be under there. I also loved building things out of the sand. Sandcastles, covering ourselves in the sand, making animals. It was all fun. And then we’d watch as the tide would swish in, slowly and surely taking apart whatever we built. I had no idea as a kid, I would one day feel like my life was one such sandcastle getting tormented and destroyed by waves with no control over the matter.

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Refining Stories: A Toxic Marriage

Refining Stories: A Toxic Marriage

I have two stories left to share to conclude the Refining Series.

I was especially touched by Debra’s story. She endured a toxic marriage for many years in hopes he would change. I believe God can restore any marriage if people are willing to change and partner with God. Unfortunately, there are toxic people who don’t want to change. Debra experienced years of pain in her marriage yet allowed God to refine her in the midst of her heartache. It is an honor to share Debra’s story today.

Debra’s Story:

Ten years into my marriage of 22 years, I became aware of my husband’s sexual addiction, same-sex attraction, and acting out.  Through it all, he had kept up an appearance of godliness while engaging in a pursuit of sinfulness. As a Christian, I know “God hates divorce”,  so I would not give up hope of restoring our marriage. I continued to offer grace and forgiveness while facing each disappointment. 

 As years passed, I persevered through the lies and deception.  I always wanted to believe my husband was getting the help he needed and making progress, desiring to heal the brokenness of our marriage. Each time I believed we were on the road to a restored marriage, I would discover more of his ongoing deception.  We continually needed to start over, rebuilding from “ground zero”.  

While attending counseling, small group sessions, marriage classes, and intensive weekend therapy sessions, my nightmare remained a well-kept secret from family and friends. Experiencing the hurt, pain, embarrassment, shame and betrayal of someone, who I thought loved me and loved God, was paralyzing. I remained isolated.  Bearing it alone was a heavy burden, but I continued believing God would heal and restore the marriage, keeping our family intact.  

 My kids were unaware of the issues. They were ages 3 and 8 when things began.  Feeling zombie-like from endless sleepless nights, I was determined to provide stability and wholeness for them.  I worked to keep up the facade of being a happy mom, while on the inside experiencing anxiety and depression. 

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Refining Stories: A Body to Worship

Refining Stories: A Body to Worship

As part of my Refining Series, I’m sharing Refining stories; stories of women who have wrestled with God, through difficult situations and let Him refine them. They felt the sting of disappointment and have run to God with their pain. In turn, God has revealed more of His character to them.

Today I share a story many are familiar with, the refining from an injury. As much as we wish we wouldn’t get injured or hurt, it happens because we live in a fallen world. But God offers us Himself in these seasons. I pray her words bring you comfort. I am honored to share Rebekah’s story with you.

Rebekah’s Story:

One day early in basketball season, during my junior year of college, a group of teammates talked about how awful an injury, especially a torn ligament, would be.

“That would be awful,” one said. “I don’t know how I’d keep going,” said another.

I don’t know how I’d respond, I thought to myself. I haven’t been injured longer than a day or two.

It wasn’t my experience yet, but it was coming, and I would have a lot to learn in the process.

Midway through that season, during our holiday tournament, I had played well in Game 1, and my performance early in Game 2 set me up well for all-tournament honors. Toward the end of the second game, however, I took one wrong step. No contact from another player, no accident. Just a step and my knee buckled.

I wanted to deny it, but my knee continued to swell, and all the telltale signs were there. I heard the results of my MRI the day after Christmas: I had torn my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) in my left knee.

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Refining Series: When You Feel Utterly Alone

Refining Series: When You Feel Utterly Alone

When you pass through the deep, stormy sea, you can count on me to be there with you. When you pass through raging rivers, you will not drown. When you walk through persecution like fiery flames, you will not be burned; the flames will not harm you, for I am your Savior, Yahweh, your mighty God, the Holy One of Israel. Isaiah 43:2-3a

The sun was barely up as I plopped my weary body into my “Jesus Chair.”  My friend, Karen, named it that because it was the chair I sat in every morning to meet with Jesus.  It was a cozy space I created to pray and read the Word each day, but this day instead of feeling warm, I felt alone, utterly lost.  

Persistent Pain

The pain had kept me up again another night.  It wasn’t a new thing. The pain bore through my neck and upper back.  It was relentless in its pursuit. It persisted and was a result of a car accident I had years before.  I quit talking about pain. I quit asking others for prayer, and I quit asking God myself because honestly, it didn’t seem like my Jesus was interested.  I had gone through seasons of pouring over the healing scriptures, praying them, and believing for them, but still, the pain persisted. I was exhausted and spent.

I begged God to show me what He wanted me to learn? Was there something I was doing wrong?  The rule follower in me wanted to know what I could fix. My prayers looked like this: “Jesus, just tell me and I’ll fix it!  I’ll change! I’ll do whatever you want!” It all seemed desperate and futile. What was the point of all this physical pain?

Sweetly and gently, the Holy Spirit whispered, “You may feel alone, but you're actually not alone.  I’m right here with you. I’ve been with you every moment and I’ll be with you until the end of time.”

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Refining Stories: Lessons From the Sting of Rejection

Refining Stories: Lessons From the Sting of Rejection

As part of my Refining Series I will share Refining Stories. Stories of women who have wrestled with God and let difficult situations refine them. They’ve felt the sting on disappointment and have allowed God to refine them.

Today I’m excited to share Andrea’s story. It’s a story about the pain of rejection and haven’t we all felt it at one time or another? I pray her words bring your comfort. i am honored to share Andrea’s story with you.

Andrea’s Story:

My pulse raced with excitement as I walked into the sanctuary for the congregational meeting. Nerves were present, but it was mostly an alive sort of feeling. This vote could set me on the course of something I felt driven and called to do! This was forever going to change the trajectory of my life, my career and my faith! I just hadn’t imagined how much it would.

A couple months prior to that moment, I had found myself spending almost all of my free time serving as a worship leader and a youth leader for a little church in my town. Was I officially trained for any of that? Nope. Civil engineering was my full-time day job. Music was just a hobby, and teenagers were honestly kind of a mystery. However, music was what made my heart come alive and was what I could spend hours doing without fatigue. 

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Refining Stories: Lessons From A Frantic Newborn

Refining Stories: Lessons From A Frantic Newborn

As part of my Refining Series, I will share Refining Stories: stories of women who have wrestled with God and have let difficult situations refine them. They’ve felt the sting of disappointment and have found God in the midst of pain.

Today meet Amanda , a mom who learned some valuable lessons from her newborn. I pray by reading her story, you’ll be able to recognize God at work in your life. I am honored to share Amanda’s story with you.

Amanda’s Story:

It was a black, warm night with no moon. The velvet darkness was being sliced to shreds by the wails of a two-month-old baby.

My baby.

I held him close as the volume and intensity of his cries increased. A sob wrenched my chest as I watched my child squirm and scream, his tears squeezing out from under tight eyelids.

This. This was a new kind of pain. A tiny baby, born of my own body, and part of my own soul, distressed and refusing to be consoled.

It was something that hurt worse than any pregnancy or labor pains ever had.

Even the best new motherhood experiences can lay the soul bare and break it into shards. 

Between the hours of lost sleep, the physical fatigue of continual feedings, and the emotional weight of the entire wellbeing of another human being resting solely on my shoulders, I was splitting at the seams. And no matter how much I tried to soothe and bless my baby, nothing seemed to make a difference.

He cried continuously, though all his needs were met. His voice rose and fell, then began climbing upward again in pitch. His eyes were closed, refusing to view my face.

I felt rejected. Helpless.

My tiny, tender one seemed to completely disregard the fact that he was being held in my arms—arms that would never let him fall. Arms that wanted to hold him and provide comfort.

His little fingers clenched, my baby flailed, limbs in the air, almost as if he were angrily shaking his fist in my face.

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Refining Series: Our View of God

Refining Series: Our View of God

“Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad?”-Job 2:10b

 The Refinement of Loss

We were married four years and our son was two when I took the next positive pregnancy test.  I was elated and raced to the clinic to have the blood test confirm the pregnancy, and it did. Baby #2 was on the way and I was especially thrilled because two of my closest friends had just announced their pregnancies.  It was a girlfriend's dream come true!

Just hours later I started to bleed.  I frantically called my doctor and he recommended bed rest for the weekend.  I sobbed and worried as my little toddler seemed confused by my sudden bed rest and my husband looked equally bewildered. We felt utterly helpless.

I willed myself to stay still, thinking perhaps if I didn’t move, the bleeding would stop.  I prayed, I begged, and I pleaded with God. I asked for a miracle but the bleeding never stopped. I returned to the clinic on Monday to check the levels in my blood and later in the afternoon, the Dr. confirmed my greatest fear.  Our baby was gone. As quickly as it came, it was gone. The experience left me crushed, broken and bewildered. I assumed God would rescue me, yet He didn’t.

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Refining Stories: Allison, A Special Needs Mom

Refining Stories: Allison, A Special Needs Mom

As part of my Refining Series, I’ll be sharing Refining Stories; stories of people who have wrestled with anger and disappointment with God.  People changed, rebuilt and rescued by God. Allison, is a special needs mom. I pray by reading her story you’ll be strengthened to continue your own refining season, with the confidence of how God works all the hard things together for good. I’m honored to have Allison share her story.

Allison’s Story

Sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through Pinterest, I heard my husband Ben answer his phone. We’d been waiting on this call for a couple of weeks and my heart constricted tighter and faster listening to his end of the conversation. Though he was mostly nodding and scribbling notes, not saying much, I could tell the results showed something.

Hanging up the phone, he turned to tell me the results: a rare (1 in 100,000 boys) genetic disorder. Three extra chromosomes. A spectrum of possibilities but physical and intellectual difficulties guaranteed. Apraxia. Hypotonia. Possible heart issues. Anxiety. Recurring pneumonia. Of course, our pediatrician advised us not to Google the syndrome, and of course, I didn’t listen.

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Trusting God Series: Hope Required

Trusting God Series:  Hope Required

Remarkable Hope

I had the privilege recently of helping a fellow Hope*Writer launch her second book, Remarkable Hope. I thought of you as I read her compelling book. She takes common Biblical stories and retells them as fiction then provides beautiful insights about hope. You’ll will find yourself breathless as you read her Biblical accounts, then so filled with hope by the wisdom she shares about people who’ve been disappointed, disillusioned, and running out of hope. I’ve been there, how about you? Welcome Shauna Lettellier to Be Encouraged!

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” -Hebrews 6:19


Thomas Chisholm was not a formally educated man. But in 1941 he wrote in a letter, “My income has not been large at any time due to impaired health in the earlier years which has followed me on until now. Although I must not fail to record here the unfailing faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God and that He has given me many wonderful displays of His providing care, for which I am filled with astonishing gratefulness."*

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Trusting God Series: When You're Disappointed in God

Trusting God Series:  When You're Disappointed in God

Disappointment compounded

It was a beautiful September day, six years ago, as I was heading home from work for lunch. I was slowing down for an approaching stop light, and suddenly I was rear ended by a young, distracted drive and his passenger. They got out of their car laughing while I sat stunned. At impact, my head flew back and pain shot through my neck and upper shoulder and my arms grew tingly. I was a block from the hospital, and a quick trip in the ambulance brought me to the ER with my hubby close behind.

I had a Cat scan and x-rays. They put me in the neck brace and sent me on my way. I went home to rest and enjoy the benefits of pain killers and muscle relaxers. What I assumed would be a short recovery turned into years of pain and doctor’s appointments. I started with Physical Therapy, after 8 weeks of no change, I tried chiropractic, and massage and when that didn’t help, I was sent to an Orthopedic Specialist. I was reduced to tears at many of those appointments as the pain was excruciating. My usual cheerful, optimistic disposition was tested, as my life revolved around headaches and severe muscle pain in my upper back and trapezoid muscle. It hurt when I sat or when I lied down; I could never escape the pain, no matter what I tried. I tried to be upbeat and remain faithful. Eventually I didn’t talk about the pain, but it was my constant companion. Living with physical pain is exhausting. Pain killers and muscle relaxers made me feel sleepy and weird, so I quit taking them.

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