My daughter and I have a message for oppressed women around the world: You are priceless.
Today, on the other side of the world, a woman woke up having no idea she was anything to shout about.
Considering the way he treated her, the way her boss looks at her, all she’s ashamed of, and the money she doesn’t have for a bank account (if she had one)–she’s had too many messages to the contrary.read more
This morning I walked through my house, trying not to see things.
I tried not to see the underwear packaging left on the floor by my two teenage boys. The clothes my daughter left on the bathroom floor. The cereal bowl on the counter of a few floating Honey Nut Cheerios.read more
A couple of weeks ago my trusty Subaru was packed with a bunch of sweaty kids (mine), headed home from our organization’s picnic. The mood was light, the windows down. We played two of my admittedly weird games:
Where in life do you think your sibs and yourself will be in twelve years?
Where around the world could you see yourself going to help people?
The first was pretty hysterical, peppered with some interjections aboutread more
Okay, one of my least favorite job descriptions of motherhood: Media Nazi. ‘M I the only one who feels like I’m constantly saying “nope”?
Because see, I want more than “Mom said no. Again” for my kids’ worldview. When they get to college, I’m certainly not going to be harping over their shoulders. (At least I really hope not.) Plus, they’re about 100% more likely to have buy-in if they’re the ones making the [hopefully right] decision.read more
It needs to be said. Blogging about parenting can feel a little like heading for an outhouse in a snowstorm, y’know?
Because honestly, there’s waaaaay too much I don’t get right. (And aren’t we all a little skeptical of the people who seem to be doing it with Pinterest perfection?) Sometimes I pull up a chair to blog about parenting and I’m thinking, Which failure shall I blog about this month?
From the beginning, I think God’s had it out for me to shake up my (firstborn, overachieving, idealistic) parenting goals. As in, pretty soon after those two little lines turned pink.read more
We were headed to church, exhaling clouds of steam in the still-cold car. Up in the front seat, I happily remarked to my husband about the expanding diversity in our small town–as judged authoritatively, of course, by my trips to Wal-Mart. After five and a half years in Africa, I can feel a little stifled amongst all the vanilla around me.
My daughter, from the backseat: “Why does ‘diversity’ make you happy?”
She didn’t, it turns out, know what diversity was. So we talked about it: That God expresses Himself through every culture. That differences make us more vibrant and loving and whole. That we want people of all types to be welcome here.read more
It’s been a rough month for a lot of people around the United States.
As I type, there are children in Florida and Montana and Texas whose lives have been precisely, heart-rendingly divided into before and after.read more
I didn’t know what a turquoise-painted pumpkin was—until my nephew, the one with the chocolatey eyes and the wide grin, was allergic to peanuts. Now I know that a teal pumpkin outside a house on Halloween means they have non-food treats for kids with food allergies. When I was a young youth intern, it felt extreme of one mom to walk through the mission-trip bus and ask all the kids to surrender snacks with peanuts. Now, having known at least three moms who grappled with this life-or-death allergy on a daily basis—I get it.
My sister-in-law have had some heart-rending conversations over the last year about the fear she deals with around this allergy—which could take her son in ten minutes’ time. One wrong snack, one EpiPen too far away.
But my heart balled up with a single text last week from the same sister-in-law: Her daughter, who’s not yet one, had an anaphylactic reaction. …To eggs.read more