A letter to my daughter

The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

My sweet little girl,

A year ago today we found out you were in fact a little girl, and what a joyous time it was. Up until that point I had convinced myself you were a little boy. I had prepared my heart for a little boy so that I wouldn’t feel any sort of disappointment because I wanted a little girl so bad!

I felt deep in my soul an urgency and longing to teach you how to love yourself completely, and to be confident in how you were made unique. I want to protect you from ugly words and hurt feelings, but I know I won’t always be able to. I feel anxious when I think about the hurt you will experience through life, especially when I think of that hurt coming in the form of words and actions from others. Being a Christian mama, I can educate you on why we have to deal with sufferings of all kinds, but knowing why won’t take the sting and hurt away.

I want to teach you how to love yourself by the way I love myself. I know the best way I can do this is by example, but I find it also a daunting task. You see we live in a world where we are taught perfection is how to be beautiful. Flawless and golden skin, bright white teeth, and perfect measurement proportions are a few ways beauty is measured in our culture. Growing up I battled with feeling less than the girl next to me and insecure with how my body looked.

Was it normal?

Was it supposed to look like it did?

I would also tear myself down aloud in hopes of beating anyone else to it, or at least confirming what I was sure were their thoughts. Then I met your daddy. I remember specifically one time after we were married when I was looking at myself in the mirror commenting on how awful I looked, nitpicking about this and that about my body, face, and hair. His eyes saddened and his voice softened, and I knew in that moment something had to change. I immediately began to shift my thought process and we started a new family policy that when something negative is said, the offender has to say five things they are thankful for. This has helped us shift the focus to a more positive and uplifting environment.

Since we began to plan for you I knew I had to try even harder to quiet that inner evil voice because I knew I needed to create new habits and a new perception that would be engrained in me to stop me from saying negative comments aloud. I know your sweet spirit and mind is nothing short of an immense sponge that will soak up everything that you are exposed to, and I desperately want those exposures to be love filled and glorifying to the Lord.

I want you to know you are oh-so-perfect in every way. You are talented. You are smart. You are kind. You are funny, and you are beautiful. I pray I can teach you to look to Christ for reassurance when you doubt these things, and rest in Him because of how He made you. And when the world tries to tell you differently, I pray you will hear our voices echoing that you are perfect in every way.

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!

Love love yourself raising daughters

Tamara Menges

Hi y'all! I'm Tamara, and a southern girl (obviously!). I am married to my high-school sweetheart, best friend, and favorite person Kason for almost nine years now! We had a our first itty-bitty, Kerrington Snow, in May. I love sharing my heart and how Jesus changes it everyday. Husband and I also own a boutique wedding floral firm, and we live close to Houston, Texas!

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living

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

“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

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

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

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

Finding God in the Middle of Disbelief: A Mom’s Journey through Faith and Fear

In: Faith

Mother holding hand of young child, silhouette

“But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior; so my persecutors will stumble and not triumph over me.” – Jeremiah 20:11 God, thank You for making sure my son is okay. Thank You for this just being paranoia. I believe in You. I believe in Your control. I believe. I believe. I believe. These words streamed through my head as my husband drove us downtown to visit our first specialist with our 4-month-old son, Maximus. Our pediatrician had written me off, but I could not ignore the feeling in my bones that something was wrong. Tiny, hard bumps...

Keep Reading

In Praise of Indebtedness: How Threads of Reciprocity Weave Us Together

In: Faith, Living

It all started with tomatoes. After we moved, a neighbor invited us to pick from the abundance in her and her husband’s gardens. In return for a pile of tomatoes gathered from their raised beds, I left a plastic bag of homegrown pumpkins on their porch. Later that summer, our neighbor stopped by with a recycled container full of still more fruits. By the fall, we were sharing chili and cookies over dinner at our place. Threads of indebtedness were weaving us together. For most of my life, the idea of indebtedness has tasted rather repulsive on my tongue. The...

Keep Reading

To the parents of my struggling son's classmates

Kids

To the parents of my struggling son's classmates

If Foster Care is Hard, You're Probably Doing it Right

Foster Care

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

Tamara Menges

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

God Holds You As You Hold Everyone Else

Yes, I Know Fear—but I Also Know Faith

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

Finding God in the Middle of Disbelief: A Mom’s Journey through Faith and Fear

In Praise of Indebtedness: How Threads of Reciprocity Weave Us Together

Get It Now

So God Made a Mother

A letter to my daughter

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

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

God Holds You As You Hold Everyone Else

Yes, I Know Fear—but I Also Know Faith

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

Finding God in the Middle of Disbelief: A Mom’s Journey through Faith and Fear

In Praise of Indebtedness: How Threads of Reciprocity Weave Us Together

Previous Post

Next Post

You May Also Like