A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Over the course of my adult life, I have established some pretty great friendships. There have been more than a handful of women in my life who have become close friends. Not just casual acquaintances. Not simply frequent yet cursory relationships, but true and deep friendships. The kind where you tell each other hard truths, support one another in difficult life moments, and truly sharpen one another, making each other better.

This sounds wonderful until you realize that God has ripped each one right out of my life.

Thankfully, these ripped out friendships haven’t ended. I am grateful that none of these many relationships have terminated because of a painful misunderstanding or betrayal. God simply chose to leave me here in my small town while uprooting friend after friend. I’m talking at least six very dear friends in 15 years.

It led me to wonder, “What the heck is wrong with me? What is God trying to teach me? Why can’t I just learn the lesson already and keep a friend longer than a few years?”

I was lamenting this way to one of my dearest, though uprooted, friends a while back. We spoke at a time when yet another friend was preparing to move. From our conversation, I knew this wasn’t just in my head. She saw it, too. God really was plucking out friends from my life. Because she was one of those true friends I mentioned, she was kind enough to point out a fresh perspective on the matter. She knows me very well. She knows how I long for close, deep friendships. She also knows I would be completely content to have just one friend like that…at the expense of other friendships. Maybe, just maybe, God knew I was good at friendship, knew women needed a friend like me, and knew I wouldn’t reach out to those women on my own if I was completely satisfied with the one bosom friend.

That took some pondering over.

Months after this conversation, as I spent time reading the Bible, my heart leapt as I read,

“Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes that it may bear more fruit.” (John 15:2, emphasis added)

I had been focusing my attention on the first part of this verse, where God takes away the unfruitful branch. Each loss of a friend was painful to me. I shed many tears over each one. Because it was painful, I assumed it was punishment. I was afraid that maybe I was idolizing my friends, and that was why God kept hacking them out of my life. I thought He was hacking out something ugly in me.

As I read those words again, I saw the second part more clearly. Where God sees sweet fruit, He skillfully prunes in order to produce more abundantly. Perhaps God was not taking away something undesirable in me with the removal of each friend. Maybe, instead, the Gardener saw ripe fruit in my friendships and deliberately pruned me to cultivate more sweet fellowships. It is incredibly humbling to believe God sees good, truly good, fruit in my life. And that the Master Gardener would care to tend my lowly branches? That thought brings me to tears.

 As I look back now, I can see that without the removal of each friend, the next lovely, treasured woman wouldn’t be in my life. I am an introvert, and as such, the idea of reaching out again and again to basic strangers with the offer of friendship is a risky way to use energy. Left to myself, I would have clung to my one friend, oblivious to the other hearts around me looking for deep connection. With the meaningful snip of pruning shears, the Lord urged me to look around. And each time I obeyed, my eyes would find the gaze of a kindred soul, ready for a new friend, too.

This concept of pruning to bear more fruit has me curious. Could there be a situation in your own life where you have been mistaking pruning for punishment? I encourage you to look into your pain with a fresh perspective. There’s a chance God just wants to produce more of the goodness He sees in you.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Dusty Reed

Dusty is a wife, a mother and a friend. Having grown up in a big city, she is now raising her family of seven on a farmstead in rural Nebraska. During weekdays Dusty can be found teaching her children at the dining room table. Or napping; it can be exhausting raising five kids! Dusty is always on the lookout for ways to avoid housework. Her favorite ways are meeting friends for coffee, preparing meals to take to others, or simply laying in a hammock with a good book. Often feeling like an inadequate mess, Dusty is allowing God to enter into those fragile parts of her heart to heal it. Anything she learns along this tangled path of life, she longs to share with others.

Life Lessons from My Grown Children

In: Faith, Motherhood
Two women's hands on teacups

“Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.” – Rabindranath Tagore Quietly communing with a loved one in the early morning hours is such an intimate and precious time. Visiting with one’s grown child when all is dark and still is one of life’s purest pleasures. I remember the conversation clearly. My daughter’s husband, small children, and father were all asleep as we whispered and chatted. She and I are both fidgeters by nature, unable to be still for long. This inner restlessness must be remedied, and we are compelled by biology to...

Keep Reading

My Prayer Is Simple Now: “I Believe; Help My Unbelief.”

In: Faith
Woman sitting by water

I have spent most of my life in faith. Not circling it or analyzing it from a distance, but inside it—learning its language before I even realized I was learning it, shaping myself around it in ways that felt as natural as breathing. I was raised in Christian Science, which is a very particular kind of faith. It’s not really about “believing” in the way most people think. It’s about understanding. Aligning your thoughts with what is ultimately true about God and reality. If you can understand rightly, you can be well. If you can see clearly, healing follows. So...

Keep Reading

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...

Keep Reading

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

In: Faith
Woman walking in field with hand in wheat

Hannah knew what it was like to feel forgotten. She often clutched her empty womb and thought Surely the Lord has forgotten me.  She knew the bitter sting of feeling isolated and alone. She knew the anguish of praying day after day after day and seeing no fruit, not even a bud, from her faithfulness. Hannah knew what it was like to feel like the weight of the world was on her, and her hope may have dwindled. Even those around her did not offer encouragement. Quite the opposite—they did their best to sow seeds of discouragement. Yet Hannah pressed...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

In: Faith
Woman with folded hands looking up

There have been many times over the years when I’ve heard others share stories of how the Lord spoke to them or gave them a sign. Seashells scattered along a sandy beach, numbered to represent how many children they would have. A quiet walk in the park, followed by a clear sense that another little one was coming. What a blessing, I think, when I hear and read their stories. I often wonder how much more faith they must have than I do—to know with such certainty that what they heard was truly God speaking. I listen, I smile, and...

Keep Reading

God Holds You As You Hold Everyone Else

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding toddler daughter on her hip, standing outside

She stands in the kitchen, hands trembling over the sink, tears she cannot let fall pressing behind her eyes. The world outside her window is quiet, but inside her heart there is a storm she cannot name. She is hurting, not because she does not love her life, but because somewhere along the way she forgot how to breathe inside it. Yet even in her pain, little voices call her name. Tiny hands tug at her shirt. Lunchboxes need packing, homework needs checking, hearts need holding. And so she wipes her face, forces a smile, and whispers a quiet prayer:...

Keep Reading

Yes, I Know Fear—but I Also Know Faith

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding child's hands in hospital bed

The night my daughter woke up screaming at 3 a.m., I knew something was wrong. Her cry wasn’t the half-asleep whimper of a bad dream. Instead, it was pain—raw and sharp. Within an hour, we were rushing to the emergency room, the world outside our headlights still wrapped in darkness. Tests, scans, questions, and then the words no parent ever wants to hear: “We’re transferring her to another hospital by ambulance. She needs surgery right away.” They said “torsion.” They said “tumor.” They said “appendix.” I nodded, because that’s what mothers do. We stay steady, even when our hearts are...

Keep Reading

10 Years after My Mother’s Death, Her Faith Still Guides Me

In: Faith, Grief
Woman praying

Growing up, I was a reluctant Catholic. My mother would drag us to church, and I’d go through the motions—fingers moving across rosary beads without really feeling the prayers. But she never stopped. Sunday Mass, daily prayers, devotions to the Blessed Mother. She was relentless in her faith, not because she was trying to force it on us, but because she genuinely believed we would need it someday. She was right. My mother died of stage 4 colon cancer in 2012. My brother and I watched her suffer, saw how her body betrayed her, watched as treatments failed. And here’s...

Keep Reading