faith

Moments of Motherhood

May 8, 2026 by Monica 1 Comment

A couple weeks ago, I took June to school. Without shoes. Oh, I had shoes on…fancy ones. To match my fancy outfit and fancy ( not up in a pony tail under a hat) hair that I was flaunting for Career Day. So, just to clarify- I was all good. But my preschooler had no shoes on her feet.

You see, this is Motherhood in a nutshell. At least for me. One victory ( in this case, securing up babysitting and pulling together a school-wide presentation while not looking homeless for once) led right into a flop. And as amazing as the day was – truly, one of my best in a long time- I kept hearing that voice reminding me about the shoes.

Can anyone relate?

The other day, Quinny tried to quit volleyball, after a pretty horrible set of games. She crawled into the car and said, “I’m done. I don’t want to play anymore. I’m the worst player on the face of the earth.”

I let that simmer for a minute, popped in her favorite song on Amazon music, waited for her smile to return and then proudly told her she was crazy to want to give up after a few bad moments; that tonight did not define her as a player.

While it took her a few more songs and a few more words of wisdom to turn her attitude around, I had to laugh when I realized that is exactly how I sound after I’ve stumbled through the days and weeks. Defined by when I miss the mark.

I wish I could say that I hear those voices a lot less in my 40’s than I did in my teens or 20’s, but the reality is- there’s more a stake now. And I feel like with each mountain scaled, there’s usually an epic trench waiting for me to fall into. Which I usually do…

But I am done feeling this way.

So, without further ado, I am embarking on my first ever Mother’s Day weekend without regret.

I am going to try to embrace this weekend (and my vocation) with a new outlook- one that hinges on God’s approval, not the world’s. I am exchanging exhausted for gratitude.

When I feel like no one is noticing how hard I am working behind the scenes, I will sing anyway. I will shout for joy that I have a family to work hard for. That I have children that grumble and argue and could quite possibly deep down under the teen attitudes really love their mom and tell me that years down the road.

I will clean rooms not to keep them clean but because I get to be in my home and enjoy making it cozy.

I will make the dinners with invention in mind, not seeking approval or applause, but because there is food in my kitchen and I am grateful for the opportunity to create something.

I won’t do these things because anyone actually sees them being done and awards me, but because I can and want to.

I will continue to blow kisses, give hugs, make beds, fold clothes, tidy bathrooms, and set an example of love.

And right now, love looks different for each child.

For the baby, its cuddling and making silly faces.

For the toddler, it’s exploration and colorful popsicles.

For the 11-year old, it’s trips to grab french fries and singing in the car.

For the 13-year old, it’s talking about friends late at night and decorating rooms.

And for my oldest, it’s just showing up. For it all. Especially when she thinks she’s too old to still need me there.

( It is in my expert observations that this stage remains well into the 40’s…I love you, Mom!)

Holding their hand looks different for each one. But loving them is a privilege. And one I do daily with more wrong than right.

But today, and for as long as I can battle those voices, the Mom Math is the one I’m sticking to:

A million little things done right in the quietness, out weigh all the big things done out in the world ending in failure.

God sees it all. Therefore…

1 mother’s heart multiplied by 1 loving God equals 100 % happiness.

Suddenly Savior

April 2, 2026 by Monica 2 Comments

One beautiful, perfectly sunny day at the New Jersey seaside, my siblings and I were playing around in the walloping waves as we had done many times in the days and weeks before.

Knowing what strong swimmers we were, champions of the Great Valley summer team relay squad – ages 11, 13, and 16 to be oddly specific – we always stretched the limits of what was water “safe.” If ever a current decided to sweep us off our steady feet, or a sneaky slap from the colossal surf happened to catch us by surprise, we always managed to get back up and start the fun all over again- a little wiser and wet for the wear. We researched like all the teen swimmers our age, by watching hours and hours of Baywatch and the summer Olympics. We felt nothing could stop us.

However, one time, none of that mattered. No matter how we prepared or how strong our wills were– we were reminded of how powerful the elements can be and were swallowed by something much bigger than we ever imagined.

In a matter of moments, our frolicking quickly turned to panic, as we were suspended within the incessant pulls of an invisible rip current. My older sister, younger brother and I were plucked from each other’s grips and sent sailing away from the safety of the shoreline at warp speed. No amount of wrestling the waves could free us, in fact as all the research truly tells you- it only made things worse.

My sister made a quick decision, with a sorrowful look thrown in my direction, to fight with all her strength toward our little brother, who was quickly drifting further from us. And as I watched her swim away, she screamed she would come back for me.

And this my friends, is the last thing I actually remember.

But that was not the end of the story.

Help came.

Not from my sister, parent, or even a lifeguard.

Rather, from a complete stranger.

A man who was nowhere around us earlier in the fun or in the frightening moments, but who had suddenly appeared.

Grabbing my hand, he challenged the sea and it’s swells, then swooped me up in the safety of his arms, and carried me to the shore.

My family raced to rejoin me, embracing me, and searching the whole horizon for the stranger to thank him.

But he was nowhere to be found.

My sister can recall every moment of the day. She tells me this story all the time. But, the part she says will stay ingrained in her mind is what the stranger looked like.

She says he was older, but so incredibly strong, with a presence and power moving through the water like no one she had ever seen before.

And his hair was silver and white, almost to the point of glowing.

She remembers so well how he cradled me closely as he carried me safely to the sand.

She tells me time and time again that the stranger was no stranger at all. He was an angel.

Truth is…we all need rescuing.

Sometimes it’s from the wickedness of the world. Sometimes it’s from the voices swimming inside our heads. Sometimes it’s from a silent swell that tries to pull us far away from what is safe and sound.

But there will always be things that try to take us under, no matter who we are and how strong we think we can be.

What will we do?

Will we fight the storm with our own might, conjuring up the courage to stand firm against the constant knocking of waves?

Will we cower to the chaos, eventually giving in to the temptations and tricks spinning around us?

Or will we reach for the hand that saves?

The best news for us: there’s not usually just one huge, hurry-up scenario like my seaside scare in which we need rescuing. We need it all the time, which gives us millions of moments to surrender and admit that we need heavenly help from a hero. And it’s never too late.

This weekend, walk with the One who loves you so much, that He gave up everything so you could have everything.

Repeat the words, “Jesus loves me, this I know…” as if you are a small child, with each breath bringing more belief than the first.

And if you still don’t know it or believe it deep in your heart- pick up that storybook filled with saving grace, mountains climbed through mercy, epic failures and freedom found, all from a steadfast love that knew no limits.

You are worth saving.

In all our weaknesses, in all our wrongs, when we’ve sailed away in search of something better, or been knocked down and swept out lost in the sea, no hope in sight.

Reach for the hands that are strong enough to bring you back and carry you through it all.

Jesus loves you.

Say it, sing it, shout it, or whisper it. But believe it.

Now friends, close your eyes and remember what He did for you and the very holes that proved it so.

Jesus Take the Wheel…But Please Turn Here

August 13, 2025 by Monica 2 Comments

I had a dream I was a truck driver. Not like my husband’s truck- a snazzy, souped-up Silverado. No, this was a true tracker trailer, with 18 wheels, and lots of heavy stuff being carried. The incredible irony to this sleepy situation is my deathly fear of trucks on the highway. I actually have severe hand sweat and clench my teeth when passing them on any road.

But in my dream- I was crazy confident, cautious, and even calm while carrying all that heavy stuff through high hills and deep valleys.

I think I am supposed to learn something here…

Back to the “Back to School” grind- and I’m far from calm. Rather, a full on mess of supply lists, hunting down the allusive knee-high 100% cotton, but not-too scratchy, ( and “No, Mom- I did not throw out the other one in the trash over the summer”, or “I have NO idea how those got huge holes in the toes, must have been while I wore them to play in the street every night at the beach”) uniform socks in an impossible shade of blue , Ubering to pre-season tryouts, answering emails and signing up for things, trolling the internet for deals on lunchboxes that are cute, but not too cute for teens, but somehow still have a mature, high-school version of Hello Kitty on them…I’m seriously exhausted just typing this.

Am I alone?

There’s a deafening silence here, so Im going to use my imagination and pretend theres a huge auditorium of tired moms with coffee stains on their shirts and hands being raised!

I feel you, ladies. I really do.

Do I have any answers?

Oh, how I wish.

But, in true form of why I started this blog over 10 years ago- I will share a little of what I have learned in hopes of helping others. <3

In Church the other day while in the “quiet room,” which is more like a panic room with not-so-soundproof police glass, I managed to hear a few words from the sermon.

The priest said, “Obedience is like Faith with legs.” Oooo. I like that, I thought. I began pondering that statement and really wanted to hear what he said next, but was quickly brought back to the reality of my situation when Riley slung a full bottle of milk across the not-so-quiet room at MLB-pitcher speed. I retrieved the weapon, apologized profusely, and began pondering the age old question of “Why did God make babies so freakishly strong?”

Alas- back to the priest.

I really do love that idea: Faith with Legs…

We talked more about it on the way home in the car and the older girls were incredibly enlightened by the comment also. We spoke of how “biblical obedience” was all done quickly. No one, after being called by God, summoned by Jesus, or asked by an angel, took a quick shower and skirted into Starbucks before getting on the road. They just DID IT. They dropped everything, without reason or thought, and followed. Well, not everyone. I do love the cautionary tale of good ol’ Jonah…

There is so much to learn from this and I think we underestimate the power of “obey, right away.” That’s where the HUGE piece of faith comes in. Not after we’ve examined all the possibilities, mapped out the potential courses, printed things out, cross checked, and have a real game plan. It’s doing all of it blindly.

Now, what on earth does this have to do with Back to School?

Everything.

If having a foundation in faith is brought alive by obedience, there is true peace in it. God isn’t going to ask something of you that He hasn’t already cross checked, mapped out, and really thought through. And He’s God. His ways are not our ways, His thoughts are not our thoughts. They are better. Always. But they don’t always make sense to us, and it’s not always crystal clear.

So, I am going to use my imagination again and pretend I heard what came next in the sermon. Obedience IS faith with legs. But in a world where we think more is better, ( more sign ups, more sports teams, more school supplies, more suppers on the go, )it’s also sometimes just staying still.

So, obedience is going AND staying?

Yes. And we need God’s wisdom to know the difference.

There will be times when following God’s voice will look like picking up your running shoes and joining a race. ( sometimes, even running the opposite way!) And there will be times when following His voice looks like putting things down down for a minute, or even a whole season.

Just ask Him what He wants of you.

We’re not meant to always know the difference, and we’re certainly not meant to do it alone.

So, dear friends- this school year: with a high-schooler, two middle schoolers, a toddler in Pre-K, and a mobile little one-year-old, I am choosing to let Jesus Take the Wheel. And not to be a bickering backseat driver, telling him my perfect plans and hopes and desired snack stops. But to try to fully trust in His love for me, my girls, and our lives. His roads, His detours, His destinations.

And you know what? The more I think back to that tracker trailer dream…I guess it wasn’t me driving after all. <3

Walking With a Cross

April 7, 2023 by Monica 5 Comments

As I watched The Passion of the Christ the other night, a certain character made his way into my heart for the first time. While I was deeply pained and tears burst forth, I could not take my eyes off Simon of Cyrene. This little-known player in the Passion had me transfixed on the road to Calvary.

The Romans essentially plucked him from the chaotic crowd and demanded he help the suffering Savior.

What was going on in his head and heart as this outrageous offer was made on his behalf? The movie does an amazing job depicting his initial reaction of disgust and unwillingness. He tries to resist and runs away when they first call to him…

Once the militant men on horses have seized him, they force the heavy cross onto his body and he is literally and figuratively face to face with Jesus. His reaction now has begun to change. There is a moment where there is an exchange within their eyes- and for the first time, you see a softer side of Simon. There is confusion and a spark of sorrow as he looks closely upon the blood-stains and brokenness. It must have felt as though the cross was entirely too heavy for one man, almost two. Yet, Jesus walks on- tired, weary, and purposeful.

The two continue on the long road, with its twists and turns, lined with onlookers- some weeping and some spitting. But all eyes are on the cross.

Its weight, crushing the bodies beneath it, digging deep into the wounds of Jesus and into the shoulders of Simon.

They are walking together, arm in arm, sharing the unbearable burden.

If we look closer, we could possibly see how alike we are to this unlikely character…

We, like Simon, are often plucked from the masses to carry a burden we never asked for, never wanted, never thought was meant for us. It seems to us- unbearable, without an end in sight, and void of purpose.

But, if we choose to walk this journey with our Savior, arm in arm, allowing his gaze upon the final purpose to be ours… I believe we might be able to be changed as a result. We are not alone on this journey to suffering. He is always with us, sharing in our trials- strengthening us when we are weak, too frightened and unsure as what lies ahead. His promise of rebuilding and resurrection comes to life in all of us if we will only have faith.

What ever happened to Simon of Cyrene as he left the traumatic scene that day, having walked side by side with our Hope-full Hero to the place of his sacrifice?

There are almost no accounts, which to me, as a story-writing enthusiast, is inexplicably intriguing. Is it because it allows us to place ourselves directly in his shoes? I believe it is up to us to decide what happened next. Because it is the same question being asked of us all…

What will happen next? To you, to me? What will our direction be? I believe with every fiber of my being that Simon of Cyrene was a different man when he walked away. So, will we be changed from this journey we are on? I pray the answer on this day as we remember all that was done for us, is a resounding, rejoicing, reuniting “yes.”

Imagine the joy awaiting us this Easter at the empty tomb…

A Labor of Love

September 6, 2022 by Monica 3 Comments

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been frustrated? A tiny bit angry? A tad on the edge of blowing up? A hair away from a breakdown?

If you answered “yes”- then I’m right there with you. If you answered “no” – well, hats off to you! You must have the patience of a saint!

Labor Day can be, in theory, a day off from regular life. A holiday- from work and the demands of a stressful daily schedule. It’s on every calendar and commercial- it’s the real deal! However, I say “in theory” because in my home, this did not actually happen. I can proudly say that I’m 100% guilty of a completely unrealistic goal to have a stress-free day without the normal chaos of motherhood.

I had hoped for a blissful family day, one where there was helping with the dishes after breakfast, a picnic lunch in the backyard, followed by a final swim in the pool and a movie night!

I know, what on earth was I thinking? ( I do this a lot.)

While my expectations were obviously miles off, my husband’s were not. He had a day off from work and a to-do list to start tackling. That’s what he was excited about! Leaf blowing and a garage pick-up. And that makes perfect sense! When else was he going to do it?

But this is where the tension, frustration and slight anger on my part began…

Just because the post office doesn’t deliver mail, that hot dogs are BOGO, and that you can get couches and refrigerators for 75% off doesn’t guarantee a peaceful day in the home. It was quite the opposite! More people, more snack wrappers, more arguing over the TV remote, more “I thought YOU were watching June…” (I’ve seriously heard that 10 times this morning.) Eek.

Ladies- and gentleman…there IS no such day off for moms.

BUT- there also is no such things as a day off for Love.

And I’m just starting to realize they are intrinsically and eternally connected.

Labor- by definition-

verb

work hard; make great effort.”they labored from dawn to dusk” Similar:work (hard)toil, slave (away),grind, sweat, struggle Opposite: rest, relax, laze
have difficulty in doing something despite working hard.

Ahhhh… “to make great effort”, “struggle”, “have difficulty despite working hard”. Wow. I believe that pretty much describes my general day.

When I decided to take a moment (and step outside because I was legitimately throwing a toddler fit that I was ” laboring” and doing dishes by myself and everyone was and “resting and relaxing“) I breathed in and out and wondered what God thought about this idea of work.

So I googled.

And this is a verse that came up.

Okaaaaay, so that was humbling.

God ALSO doesn’t ever take a break. Or get a day off… or relax and rest…when it comes to us and our salvation. He WORKS. ( present tense) Hard. Each and every day- pouring His love into us- even on the days when we don’t quite deserve it. ( ahhhhheemmmm.)

He has also given each of us gifts- unique abilities- that He knows will propel us into a life full of happiness, joy, and for His good. And a Holy Spirit to call on to give that extra boost of patience, kindness and fortitude. Our “labor” can, in fact, be a gift. To our families, to our friends and neighbors, to our Heavenly Father.

Then, for kicks and giggles, I looked up the verse that followed. I thought to myself- if that verse was spot on- I bet there’s some serious wisdom in the following verses.

Mic drop.

So… I think what I’m hearing is that I should put on my big-girl pants and quit my crying.

My life, my children, my marriage, the dirty dishes…( It’s just coincidence that those two followed each other, BTW…) it can all be labored with love. It just takes a little less grumbling and a whole lot more Jesus.

I am off to open my heart, mind, and hands to the work of Him who loves me.

Now, if you’ll excuse me- I need to go find June.

Yes! But, now what?

August 15, 2022 by Monica Leave a Comment

Mary, Joshua, Noah.

Not just known as epic names, but also for their epic choices.

Mary- a teen with a dream. And her dream was shattered with a visit from an angel. Did he deliver news that rocked her world? Sure did! Did she run and hide, tell him to check his list twice, and that she must not be the girl for the job? Thankfully not. She, without so much as a fraction of an idea as to what was coming- the pain, the heart-ache, the loss, the lessons-she agreed. And the greatest love story of all time was set in motion.

Joshua- the chosen one to tag-team Moses and lead a band of newly-freed, desert-weathered wanderers to defeat the impenetrable city of Jericho. His odds? About a million to 1. He had to rally the troops, remind them how mana was still considered food- albeit more Keto than carb-y in flavor, and deliver the good news that the city walls would fall to rubble after they circled the city 6 times in 6 days and 7 times on the 7th day, concluding in a loud trumpet blast and shouting.

But Joshua’s “yes” helped execute God’s somewhat-crazy plan, and just as He said they would, “the walls came a-tumbling down.”

Now, on to Noah.

I feel his story is one overshadowed by a monumental, epic rush of furious flooding, followed by a picture-perfect rainbow hanging centered in the cerulean sky.

But there is a story of a very faithful “yes” tucked in those pages.

From what I’ve come to research, and many sources vary, our main character was a 500-year old farmer, in the desert.

Not exactly Chip Gaines.

But all God needed was a nod and a mustard seed of faith. And approximately 377 days of patience on a the salty seas.

The girls and I love talking Bible stories in our morning Bible and Breakfast. Time and time again, you see a common theme woven in these stories- God loves to take the underdog, the outlier, the smallest, the frailest, the ones you might never have known before- and unleash GREAT things within them.

The key ingredients? A willing heart and the faith to enter into something completely unknown without all the answers.

I took a moment to look up the word “yes” and found its origin to be quite interesting.

I found, “…old English gēse, gīse, probably from an unrecorded phrase meaning ‘may it be so’.”

“May it be so…” When I say those words out-loud, there does seem to be a slight hesitation, but with an ever-present attitude of agreement. Almost as if to say, “Well, ( eyes closed, heart pounding, open arms) here we go!”

I find this to be 100 % how I have always envisioned the stories in the Bible going… Moses, Joshua, Mary, Joseph, Noah, and many, many more. I picture their initial “yeses” to be full of trepidation, hesitation, worry, fear, and doubt. Yet, that isn’t the end of their story. With more faith than fear, their willing hearts help mould them into mountain climbers.

Heading into the school year in just seven short days, I am finding myself plagued with anxiety. When I homeschooled my children a few years ago, I was stricken with the same anxiety, but its reasons- dramatically different. I was about to be home. With my children. And teach them. Every day. Yet, I was only worried about doing it well– not the actual journey. For that adventure, I felt completely called.

So what is paralyzing me this year? I had a full on panic attack in my sleep last night. I dreamed of having the perfect Kindergarten classroom, but I couldn’t find my planbook. I looked and looked, even sat down to a meeting with my colleagues equipped with a sharp pencil and fresh notebook, all to be disrupted and never writing a thing down. Now, I’m no dream specialist, but I gather that I’m having trouble with the idea that I cannot predict, plan or control how the upcoming school year will go for each of my sweet babies.

They can be as prepared as can be- have all the right clothes, all the best school supplies, even with their math facts tucked into their new jean’s back pocket. But will it all be okay? Will they have enough friends? Will they get into a bit of trouble? Will they remember what 7 X 8 is? Will they help out when kindness is needed? Of that, my friends, is what we cannot be 100% sure. This is where our faithful, “may it be so”, comes in.

Our children are loved- certainly by us but also by our Heavenly Father. And when we cannot hold their hands, pick them up, whisper encouragement and positive reminders, HE can.

God isn’t asking us to let our children go this year… He’s asking us to let Him GO into their lives. Full charge, each morning, bus-rider and walker, kindergarten and senior, Geometry and lunch…no bars hold. He’s all in.

But are we?

Today I am working to breathe more, hug more, smile more, declutter the backpack closet without losing my mind, and focus on my favorite verse…

A lamp. Not stadium lights- illuminating all things near and far. Rather, His word is a hopeful, glimmer in the dark, with a warm glow, guiding me on my path. My children’s paths. One small step, then another.

So, it is with my eyes closed ( teary as they be), my heart pounding, my tired arms open, that I say- with more faith than fear- “Yes, Lord.”

And now, let the greatness begin…

“Enough is Enough” plus a Valentine’s door wreath DIY

January 31, 2022 by Monica 3 Comments

June is in the new baby phase where we find ourselves constantly handing her new things to hold- which she initially marvels at and keeps her attention for approximately 13 seconds. Until she hurls said object across the room or hits herself in the head with it. We frantically scramble to put something else quickly in her little tiny hands before she throws a tantrum, which she then marvels at and loves for all of 13 seconds. Oh, babies.

She hasn’t yet developed “object permanence.” That’s a term I remember from child psychology- (smarty pants) where just because a baby can’t see the object, she doesn’t think it exists anymore.

Ooooo, you want to hear something funny? I think I am slightly guilty of this, too.

Burn.

Happy life, happy wife, things go away…cry, pout, insert new shiny object. Happy life, happy wife, things stop being happy, can’t quite reach…pout, cry, throw something across room.

Am I the only one?

I was reading in a morning devotion the other day- according to the Catechism- “…our thirst for another’s goods is immense, infinite, and never quenched. Thus it is written, “He who loves money never has money enough.”

If it’s not money- what is it? Fill in the blank with your vice/ goal/ desire.

For me – it’s books.

My mom asked me years and years ago, “When you get an agent, or once you have a book out there, then what? Will you be happy?” I, of course, answered a cheerful and naive “yes.”

But the reality is, the taste and joy of having published a book only made me want to hold another… and another. And there’s nothing wrong with writing – if I’m using God’s pen. And participating in His plan. But if I’m driving my own car, on a one way street to MY destination- then I’m not quite getting the gist. I’m asking God for his occasional advice, (on song choice and good eats to stop at) but not exactly asking him to take the wheel and navigate. If I’m never satisfied, fulfilled or happy until I have another book, well then…

A wanted animation....Edited — Elder Scrolls Online

We all remember the beloved tale by Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree.

10 Things Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree Taught Us (Besides Giving, That Is) 10 Things Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree Taught Us (Besides Giving, That Is)

It’s a poetic play on what our human nature does once we seek out and taste happiness. It highlights and spells out how momentary happiness can be and how it also often times leaves us yearning something new to quench that feeling…

Fusenews: And the tree was moderately amused - A Fuse #8 Production

More lbs. shed, more things bought at Homegoods…

(The following excerpt is purely fictional. Any relation to myself, the writer, or my actual current living room is simply coincidental…)

I need a new lamp . … now I need a new painting to match the lamp. Now I need a new throw to match the painting to match the lamp … now I need more pillows to match the throw that matches the painting that matches the lamp . Now I need a new couch …. Possibly a new house? Holy heck, this whole thing started with a lamp! 😭
*Maybe my husband is right- lamps are the tools of the devil 👿 *

Or is it more fame? More job titles? More “likes”…

When will enough actually BE enough? Will there be a level achieved that sends my happy hands high in the air? Will there be a beautiful, behemoth, blissful moment – that will finally satisfy that deep, constant, unsettled hunger we have? I’m only talking from personal experience here, but I’m starting to realize by myself- I will never be enough. And get ready, the devil will capitalize on this epiphany and whisper, “That thing you just achieved… that thing you are holding…it’s not going to last. It’s not enough. YOU aren’t enough…”

And do you know what will slap the devil right in the face? To get off the wheel and yell back, “You’re right. I’m not big enough, strong enough, wise enough…”

“But do you know where you’re wrong?”

“I have Him.

And

That

Enough.“

When I saw this verse, it made me think of a beautiful testimony I heard back at the beginning of the pandemic. A woman from my church shared how, through the lack of yeast in all the markets during that particular unprecedented time, it caused her to see “daily bread” in a new light. And ever since I heard her speak, I have never thought of those words in The Lord’s Prayer the same either.

“…give us this day our daily bread…”

This day.

Not next week.

Not next month.

Not next year.

This day.

Our daily bread…

The graces, strength, wisdom, energy, patience, fortitude, love and faith.

” …He will bless you abundantly, and you will abound…”

It’s all we need.

It’s all we’ll ever need.

Hebrews 1:11

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.“

This is where my job starts ( and a chance to really stick it to the devil)… seizing the opportunity to separate myself from the thoughts and actions of my sweet 6-month old baby June. Instead of throwing a tantrum, I need to exercise the muscle that is flexed when things get tough, trials come, and the journey seems long. When whatever shiny object I am temporarily occupying my time and happiness with seems to have suddenly disappeared or is slightly out of reach, I have to stop looking around. I must look up.

Object permanence… or in this case, a daily dose of faith-filled footsteps.

It is enough.

And I’ve decided that His enough is enough for me.

CRAFT TIME!

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Valentine’s door wreath DIY

Hello crafty friends! It’s been too long since I’ve added a tutorial to the blog posts- so here we are- step by step instructions to create this super fun Valentine’s door decor! *I want to thank the blogger who inspired this creation- Craftaholics Anonymous. I loved her wreath and took the idea and ran with it!

Materials: (all from my local Michaels)

foam wreath form – 2 inch X 15.6 inch
foam wreath form- 1.7 inch X 11.7 inch
variety of ribbons – I used black & white striped, lacy pink, and ended up going with a red tulle that I had stashed away from Christmas- the ones I had planned to use on the smaller wreath were not long enough! Oops!
large wooden plank
wooden letters 2 “X”, 2 “O”
last minute addition- *some greenery I had in my craft room*
scissors
hot glue

Step 1) I wrapped the larger wreath form in the black and white striped ribbon and hot glued the ends.

Step 2) I wrapped the smaller wreath form in the red tulle- bunching it as I wrapped to create a deep crimson color that sufficiently covered the green form. Secure ends with hot glue.

I love the texture!

Step 3) I hot glued greenery to the wooden plank for some dimension. This is not a must- but if you have anything fun laying around, try it!

Step 4) I hot glued the wooden letters to the greenery.

Step 5) I nestled the 2 wreath forms into each other and secured them with the pink lacy ribbon.

Step 6) I hot glued the wooden plank to the larger wreath form.

Voila! Hang and enjoy!

Motherhood- just a real life mix-tape ( plus an exciting announcement)

May 7, 2021 by Monica 1 Comment

I love long car rides. I love that they bring twisty roads, changing scenery, plus the sense of adventure and accomplishment. Look – I went from here to there! But I think, by far, my favorite part of riding is the opportunity for hours of getting lost in tune after tune of music. ( and mayyyybe tuning out the whining and arguing in the backseat…) Specifically, singing loudly along a CD with a soundtrack of premade, preapproved car riding tunes. 120 minutes of bliss. Until the CD ends. Next up, radio- when I locate a station with exactly what I’m in the mood to hear. Until the static hits. I tune to the next station I can pick up, switch genres, and sit back and enjoy. Until that one fades away…

Then, I hear it: cutting quietly through the static- that perfect radio station…for me- a bountiful blend of beats from a few oldies from my parents, childhood favorites (you know, the kind you used to dance around your room to) college party hits and a pinch of the modern stuff I’m trying to learn for my kids so they think I’m cool. Oh, how I love a good old-fashioned mix.

Now, travel back in time with me to yester-year when making mix tapes was all the rage. It was a true labor of love, wasn’t it? I mean, you couldn’t just pop one of these suckers right out. It took time and serious dedication. Pondering just the right title for your theme- hours upon hours spent finding just the right groups of songs to express said theme- one tune perfectly perched atop another- with almost seamless introduction and ending (except that it was far from seamless b/c most things were taped off the radio with commercials jutting in and always filled with the awkward silence as I attempted to master the art of true tape-to-tape dubbing on my sister’s boombox that I was using without asking.) There would be Maddona followed by Michael Jackson….is there any other way???? Then, a set that might make you scratch your head a bit- Rick Springfield, Ricky Martin, and Frank Sinatra????

Inevitably, a Boyz II Men ballad that reminded you of the your first dance, which ironically was the exact same song of your first break-up…

Followed by the most favorite of favorites. That’s always how mixes work.

A wonderful world full of “Eek! I wonder what’s coming next?”

It is here that I slightly divulge that I married a man who makes mix CDs with ridiculous titles like Short Bus, and Peanut Butter and Jelly, which give the recipient absolutely no inkling as to what they are in for. When I ask him, the creator of such a mix as one with a thumbs up drawn in blue Sharpie, what’s actually on it- he simply replies with his southern smile, “Who the heck knows- but isn’t that the fun part?”

Well played, hubby.

However, if my Motherhood journey had to pick a station- I would certainly prefer to have a steady stream of consistent “pick me up” lyrics – nothing too sad- no breakup songs, nothing to loud- like someone is yelling at me, just encouraging verse after encouraging verse. Nothing unexpected, please.

But is that realistic? Is it even possible? Is life with children a perfectly prepared playlist? I don’t know about you, but I’m not quite Mothering to a steady tune of Journey’s, “Don’t Stop Believing.” In fact, the other day, I feel like I started off brushing my teeth to “Eye of the Tiger,” chased/dragged the girls and the puppy through the neighborhood to “I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again,” taught homeschool to “I Want It That Way,” barked out chores to “Under Pressure,” a quick episode of Ozzy Ozzborne’s “No More Tears,” and was lying completely flat on the ground by 3pm sobbing “Jesus Take The Wheel.” Unpredictable, unannounced, and unknown. These are our days. A giant, real-life, ever turning mix tape.

Motherhood Quotes to Inspire You and Make You Laugh - Meraki Mother

But after pondering this idea for a while, and listening to my fair share of a treasure trove of mix CDs I found in my car recently ( yaaaaay!), I’m starting to think this could be a good thing.

Maybe, just maybe, our unpredictable lives as Mothers is meant as a musical masterpiece- a gift. Could the “fun part” to quote my husband, be found smack dab in the middle of the mix? Having the opulent opportunity to really jam out to the oldies, make it through the memories of the heartbreak songs, get pumped back up by the dance beats, try our best to keep up with the confusing top 20 of today and wait patiently to flourish in our favorites? In a nut-shell: having zero control of what is actually coming up next, but anticipating it with a bit of child-like wonder?

My need-y little ones won’t always need me, and they won’t always be little. While they are- I pray I can focus my energy – what I can drum up these days… and truly raise them. Raise them up as they fall hurt, raise their eyes to see light in the darkness, raise them to raise up others. And finally, to raise them to dance with arms wide open when life feels like an unpredictable, all over the place mix tape.

Because that’s what life is… and it can be a beautiful one. We may not know what’s coming next, but rest assured, He always does. Our soundtrack has been carefully crafted by the one who knows us best. It’s His labor of love- so grab a hold of that wonder, try to sing along and tune into a little Trust.

Naëyra - Universe Academy - Home | Facebook

Mothers' Day quotes to honor mothers and motherhood | Business Insider India

Speaking of what’s coming up next…some fun news!!!!

I am beyond excited to announce that I am working on a book based on my blog- due out in 2022. It has been my labor of love- weaving these stories together with a goal of creating a faithful hope-filled inspirational piece for Mothers and women in the trenches!

Thank you for ALL the support! Stay tuned for more details!