I don’t know about you, but for me, being a momma is the greatest joy mixed with the intense emotion of failure! Are you reading this while reheating your coffee for the third time? Is there laundry in the washer that’s been there long enough to need to be rewashed? Did someone ask you a deep theological question right as you were buckling a car seat with one hand and holding back tears with the other?
Congratulations. You are officially a mom.
Motherhood has a funny way of making us feel both wildly important and completely invisible at the same time. One minute you’re someone’s whole world, the next you’re wondering if you’ve said “no” too much, “yes” too little, or if Goldfish crackers count as a food group (they do—relax).
Here’s the truth we forget way too often: God saw this version of you when He chose you for your kids. The tired one. The overstimulated one. The one who loves fiercely but sometimes hides in the bathroom for 90 seconds of quiet. Psalm 127 doesn’t say, “Children are a heritage from the Lord… as long as you have it all together.” Nope. Just children are a heritage. Period.
Your faith doesn’t have to look Instagram-worthy to be real. Sometimes faith is praying big, bold prayers over your kids at night. Sometimes it’s whispering, “Lord, please help me not lose my mind,” before 8 a.m. And guess what? God hears both.
If you’re worried you’re messing it all up, that’s usually a sign you’re actually doing a pretty good job. Bad moms don’t lie awake wondering if they’re loving their kids well enough. Faithful moms keep showing up—messy buns, mismatched socks, and all—trusting that God fills in the gaps they can’t.
Galatians 6:9 tells us not to grow weary in doing good, because in due season we will reap a harvest. Momma, you are planting seeds every single day. In carpool conversations. In bedtime prayers. In the way you apologize when you mess up and point your kids back to grace. So, take heart. You are not behind. You are not failing. You are not alone. God is using your faithfulness—yes, even the exhausted, imperfect kind—to shape lives and build His kingdom.
Now, go reheat that coffee again. You’ve earned it.
Love,
Trish Barnes
Executive Women’s Director
