Our Biggest Sale of the Year Ends Today!🎄 ➔

Days
Hours
Minutes
Seconds

Goodness, what a day. Sometime between 10 and 11 this morning, I realized that my wedding ring was nowhere to be found. I frantically tore apart my recently organized house. There I was tossing dirty garments over my head like a scene from a trite sitcom, peering into toilets and down sink drains in hopes of catching a glimpse of a glimmer, and moving furniture around with ease thanks to the copious amounts of adrenaline pumping through my veins. 

After what seemed like a few days, really only a mere 40 minutes, I called my husband out of desperation. “Did you hide my ring?!” I asked. Seriously, Becky. Why would your husband hide your wedding band? I knew the answer but I asked him anyway. He assured me that he had not initiated a rousing game of hide and go seek and that he loved me and knew I would find it somewhere. His response did not rescue me from my state of panic but knowing that I would still be married to this man whether I found the ring or not did offer me an ounce of relief. 

So back to the drawing board I went.  I moved my search to the basement and then into the car feeling confident that I would find it in one of the three car seats.  I was wrong and with the list of possible locations dwindling, my tears started spilling.  With little time for tears, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what I knew I needed to do next. 

I opened the garage door and headed towards the trash and recycling bins. 

You see, we have a 23-month-old daughter who has a tendency to flush, swallow, and throw away things that do not belong to her and since I had no luck with the toilets, it was time to scour the trash.  Sporting a pair of blue, disposable gloves, I sorted through every item in our recycling as well as three large bags of trash.  Although my extremities were numb, I was grateful that the frigid temps had frozen the insane amount of soiled diapers our two young daughters had generated.  I prayed that I would hear a tiny clink or see a sparkle amidst the grime but I didn’t. 

There was no ring.  Cue the tears, again. 

I allowed myself a few moments to mourn my missing treasure before I realized it was almost 3 and I needed to pick our oldest up from preschool.  With my composure somewhat gathered, I faked a smile and walked him back to the car.  We decided to retrace our steps from the night before, but the tiny object that symbolized my 8 1/2 year marriage was not tucked carefully inside the safe at Target or the local mall. 

I was done.  I couldn’t look anywhere else because I couldn’t handle any more disappointment.  Sitting at our kitchen table, I closed my eyes and prayed that God would reveal the covert location of my ring.  I felt a nudge to check out Facebook.  God does work in mysterious ways.  There, at the top of my news feed, was an article describing the current state of despair in Aleppo.  Real distress.  Real heart-rending anguish.  My day of fretting suddenly seemed so selfish.  Here I was panicking over a silly, diamond studded band.  How trivial.  I imagine that each one of these Syrian parents would trade every single belonging they have left for the chance to save their babies from the hell they are experiencing. 

Lesson learned.  I get it and I am sorry. 

Whether I find my ring or not, I am exceedingly grateful for the many blessings that have been bestowed upon me.  I also thank God for allowing me to grow a bit wiser today.  I go forward with more humility and a heightened perspective of the world around me.

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Becky Puls

Becky is the wife of Sean and mother to Jude, Rylan, and Indie. She resides in Kearney, Nebraska where she spent seven years teaching in a public elementary school. She recently resigned from that position to embrace the title of SAHM to her young children. She has more emotions than she knows what to do with and relies on God to steer her along this wondrous journey.

Praying For Your Kids is Holy Work of Motherhood

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mom hugging daughter by bed with open Bible

While excavating Mount Masada in Israel, archeologists discovered something extraordinary . . . a date palm seed. It might not seem like much (especially if you’re like me and totally expected it to be a new dinosaur or something), but this particular seed sat dormant in the dry desert soil for almost 2,000 years. Scientists ended up finding several more seeds like it throughout the Judean desert, and with a little TLC, they were able to sprout not just one but six of them. Six date palm trees, now bearing fruit that hasn’t been seen in two millennia. Incredible, right?...

Keep Reading

Choose to Be a Mother, Not a Martyr

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding baby, black-and-white photo

There is a trend in motherhood right now . . . maybe it’s happened for a long time, but now since I am a mom, I am experiencing it: this idea that everything we do as moms makes us a martyr. And honestly, I am guilty here more times than I’m not. RELATED: You’re a Mother, Not a Martyr We have these inner, silent dialogues between us and our husbands, parents, in-laws, and friends. Things we say and think, but they never hear. They compound on each other in the hallways of our hearts before bitterness creeps in without us...

Keep Reading

Motherhood Reminds Me How Much I Need Jesus

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding baby in nursery, color photo

Parenting is not only about the work it takes to raise up a child, but it’s also about continuing the work of being raised in Christ. Stripping back our innermost layers of selfishness and laying our pride exposed. Seeing ourselves as the center of our own personal schedule is no longer an option. Feeling like we have power over anything quickly vanishes into thin air. Parenthood pushes us to surrender and accept God’s sovereign control. Parenting sanctifies us.  Parenting shows us our sinful attitudes. When plans are ruined, when another blowout spoils the perfect outfit you chose, when your toddler...

Keep Reading

When Did I Become Such an Angry Mom?

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman with head in her hands

My oldest children and I had just navigated a tabletop board game. My son lost. My daughter won. I also lost. She’s four. For the record, I was trying my best. We were all putting the game away together when my son grabbed my daughter by the face and yelled, “IT DOESN’T MATTER ANYWAY BECAUSE YOUR BREATH STINKS!” And then, Mount St. Meredith erupted. I (not so gently) removed him from the situation and (not so calmly) insisted that he . . . brush his own teeth. Yep. For the record, I was trying my best. RELATED: Mom Anger: Taming...

Keep Reading

Angel Babies are Heaven’s Gatekeepers

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Mother and baby silhouette

I never seemed to have the right words. I didn’t have the right words at four years old when my parents lost my 11-month-old brother, and I never seemed to have the right words as I watched family members and close friends lose both the new life growing within their wombs and the beautiful, precious life resting in their weary arms. So, I did what I thought would offer the most comfort. I simply tried to show up and be there the best I could. I shopped for their favorite treats. I dropped meals off on front porches and toys...

Keep Reading

Secondary Infertility Took Me By Surprise

In: Baby, Faith, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Mother holding toddler by open door

Selfish. Unfair. Guilt stricken. Shameful. Those were just a few of the words that regularly stabbed my lamenting heart as I longed for a second child. Yes, I was grateful for my healthy, beautiful boy who made my dream of motherhood come true, but why did I not feel complete—was he not enough? Was I doing this motherhood thing all wrong and didn’t deserve a second child? Why did I long to give him a sibling so badly knowing millions were aching for their first—how could I be so insensitive? So many questions, so many buts and so many whys....

Keep Reading

So God Made a Farm Mom

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Family walking on farm road at sunset

One day, God looked down at all the fields, barns, pastures, and farmers and knew He needed someone to take care of all the families on the land. He knew it had to be someone confident in herself to see that the farm doesn’t come first, even when it sometimes feels like it does. He knew the farm needed someone who understands her role is important, too—especially during the seasons of motherhood when she’s not out driving a tractor. Someone proud to stand by her farmer’s side.  So God made a farm mom. God knew farm kids would need someone...

Keep Reading

Even If It Doesn’t Feel like It, God Is Holding You

In: Faith
Woman sitting against tree outside

Sweet friend,  When you’re sitting in that doctor’s office, waiting to find out what is wrong, I know you’re scared. I wish I could come and sit down beside you, hold your hand, and reassure you that it’s going to be okay. No matter what news she tells you, it’s going to be okay.  Your world might change in an instant. I know there are so many feelings swirling inside you and that you’re fighting back the tears, but it’s going to be okay.  Even if it doesn’t feel like it, God is holding you. He knows exactly what’s going...

Keep Reading

God Doesn’t Make Mistakes, Even When Motherhood Doesn’t Look Like You Planned

In: Faith, Motherhood
Teen with Down syndrome sits on couch with mother

I see you trying to keep your head above water every day, trying to juggle all of your responsibilities, have time for things you want to do, time for self-care in a world that glamorizes it, to meet the needs of your other kids, your husband, and have a social life on top of therapies, IEP meetings, meltdowns, evaluations, working with your child one-on-one, and just all the additional stresses that come with this life. There are too many to list, but if you know you know.  I see you wondering if you’re doing enough for your child when you...

Keep Reading

Dear Younger Mom Me, Love Them Deeper

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mom kissing little boy cheek

If I could tell that mom, I’d tell her football starts next week, not in nine years. If I could tell that mom, I’d tell her a pitching machine lasts one game, not multiple seasons. If I could tell that mom, I’d tell her the dirty and clean laundry will pile up, and the dishes will too. I’d tell her to not let that affect her so much. If I could tell that mom, I’d tell her life is too short to worry about tomorrow. If I could tell that mom, I’d tell her to capture every moment of time...

Keep Reading