Oh Hey.

Welcome to my space. I write honestly about motherhood, finding joy, Jesus, not quite fitting in and embracing the mess. Grab a latte & let's skip the small talk. 


"You're Broken, Mama"

"Mom, some people don't have roofs." 

"Yeah, hunny you're right. Aren't we so thankful for the roof over our head?"

Panic: O my gosh I'm 99% sure I have put zero thought into the fact that indeed have a roof over my head. Thank you, three year old for being so profound and considerate on this otherwise egotistical morning. Making mental notes to think more of others, etc. 

Mornings used to by my favorite time (pre-any responsibility, circa 2000). Until I'm on the other side of glory or both my kids are off to college....when the noise begins too early and I can barely open my eyes and cook an eatable egg, I turn on worship in desperation. At least my to-do list is organized. How did the dishwasher get full again? Don't put that in your mouth! 

I'm piecing back together my best friend, the Keurig, as my little curly haired threenager stumbles into the kitchen. 

"You're broken, mama." 

I know what she meant, I think. She thought the Keurig was broken, but what she said came from somewhere else.  

I told her she was right and couldn't get it out of my head all day. 

Not as an excuse to do but as an understanding. 

I am broken. I will mess up. I won't be able to keep up. I will say the wrong thing. I will think about myself too much. I will forget about the roof over my head. 

But I will do my best and that's all I can do. I will lavish grace on myself and strive to forgive others when they mess up because they are broken too. I will hold tightly to the only one who is whole. The God who meets us where we are. I am reminded that I need a savior even more when I admit I am broken. It's when I "have it all together..." I forget that I'm broken. 

Living, acting, doing out of brokenness today. Aware of my humanity and that I have a roof over my head. 






Keep on Singing