Nesting Mamas: What They Teach Us About God

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Nesting Mamas: What They Teach Us About God

Nesting is a curious thing mothers universally do, tirelessly carrying the proverbial sticks in our beaks to create a place for our babies to belong. I remember hoisting our living room rug out the front door at 40 weeks because I decided it was too disgusting to be in the presence of my baby girl. Now that baby girl is four, and I still go to great efforts to make sure things around our home are functioning well for her and her little brother (though I haven’t irrationally tossed anything out the front door in a while).

Recently, my two kids started sharing a room, and I noticed how the preparation for the change felt like love.

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The Gospel of Fatherhood

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The Gospel of Fatherhood

Adelaide was three weeks old in this picture, but she and her daddy still look at one other like this. She's our oldest, and during those newborn months, the weight and magic of my new motherhood and my husband's new fatherhood astounded me. Who were we to be entrusted with someone so precious?

During those months, I came across a quote from Hayley DiMarco that I've never forgotten: "A girl's father is her first love, her evidence that there truly is a God and that he truly loves her."

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Stop Being a Good Girl

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Stop Being a Good Girl

If I was your mother, I’d warn you that people will tell you to be a “good girl” or a “good boy.” It’ll feel like a badge of honor, and you’ll want to hustle to earn it. But as a former good girl, I want to tell you the truth about that badge: It’s dangerous.

It makes you think goodness is something you can manufacture or hustle for. Something someone else can proclaim over you in approval: “Yay! You followed these rules! Good girl.”

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Knowing Your Name When the World Tries to Name You

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Knowing Your Name When the World Tries to Name You

"But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.'" Isaiah 43:1

Names matter. My parents named me “Caroline,” and somehow that particular string of letters feels eternally linked to who I am, as if they line my DNA like biological alphabet soup. (It’s weird because they could have named me something else, like Karen or Bubbalicious or Raisin Bran, and I’m sure I’d feel just as connected to those series of letters if they had.) Praise the Lord, even though Dad actually loves Raisin Bran, my folks thought carefully and chose Caroline, just for me.

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Psalm 23 Wall Art

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Psalm 23 Wall Art

We moved into our house over a year ago, and from the very first day, I’ve been pondering how to fill the giant wall above our couch. It felt like a lot of pressure, this wall, so I ended up becoming completely paralyzed by indecision (very normal for me), and never filling it. But guys—this week, we finally hung something on that wall, and I am SO EXCITED!

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