I am a beginning for my kids, but I was never meant to be the end. I am a jumping off point, a place to come back to, and an observer of all within my view.
Power and balance, in and of themselves, are good things. But we fool ourselves and justify unhealthy behavior when we misrepresent their meanings and purpose.
Our kids ought to know that they fill us with wonder and awe. They ought to know that they truly are God’s gift—not to the world, but to us, their parents.
After ten years at the helm it is clear to me that my bookshelves may collect dust on a regular basis, but my kids have no doubt how much I love them.
We as a culture are addicted to accolades and none of us are immune. But I am more aware now of the reality that there is no rushing growing up.… There’s just no fast forwarding the slow churn of experience. Blooming takes time.
Listening means actively making room for whatever words she may offer. It means I prepare myself to hear the intent behind the words or the intent behind the silence.
Kids growing up in families that establish traditions year after year feel more secure in their identities, more connected to their families and family history, and are more likely to develop character based on shared family values.
We live in a tumultuous world during a tumultuous time and all around I see people swearing up and down that the solution is just one policy change or one legislative session away. But what if all our man made problems don’t have a man made solution?
Motherhood is a universal community of women who have all felt exquisite joy and excruciating pain on behalf of another. This is not the most hard; this is the most human.
We all have our different versions of hard. I guess, then, what’s hard isn’t necessarily the things we face as parents, but the moments in which we face them.