![]() That instead our Father beckons us to simply awaken and see the spiritual disciplines we already perform each day. That we’re not meant to add more shoulds to our schedule, more work to allow us into God’s presence. I cling to a deep and certain conviction that motherhood is in and of itself a spiritual practice-that the Creator of wombs and breasts placed deep spiritual fruit into the seasons and tasks of motherhood. I long for serenity and fall to pieces in the mayhem.īut-and I take a long, slow breath with this life-changing but-I believe, with all my heart, that every department-store meltdown is cultivating my soul into something strong and beautiful. I never manage to find the peace in the chaos. ![]() My runaway bag is packed, and I’m always just one more tantrum away from using it. I serve birthday cake out of a 9x13 pan, and my kids go to church in striped pants and paisley shirts (dirty ones, too, with mismatched socks). The one who doesn’t manage to grab a shower and would never consider rising before her crack-of-dawn children. I’m the mom yelling across the yard loudly enough to wake the whole neighborhood. ![]() You’ll never find me Instagramming my latest parenting triumph or pinning pretzel-and-kiwi Easter bunnies to Pinterest. ![]() I am not that mom on Facebook who has it all together, peacefully raising perfect children. ![]()
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