So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

I remember bringing that squishy baby home from the hospital. His 9-pound birth weight didn’t label him as scrawny by any means, but he was so small to us. I cringed the first time I laid him in the bassinet beside my bed. I wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him all night long like the nurses in the hospital nursery. I couldn’t make sure he was breathing every second of my coveted slumber.

To calm my worries, we turned on our bathroom light and left the door wide open. The extra light wouldn’t disturb our angel from his sleep, but it sure gave this mama some peace. I used the glow of the distant bathroom light to watch that tiny chest rise and fall each time I opened my eyes. But I noticed something as Elliott continued to grow.

The older he grew, the less light I needed.

Unintentionally over the weeks, I would crack the bathroom door less and less until one night I didn’t need it at all. “It’s too bright in here!” I thought, and I closed the door. I realized the prayer I had been praying over my baby every night had been answered, and I slept peacefully through the calm hours of the night.

RELATED: To the Mom With the Anxious Soul

One of the downfalls of 2020 (Ha! Weren’t there many?) was the absence of an Easter Sunday service at our church. No fancy outfits, colorful flowers, or potluck get-togethersthough I am humbly reminded that is how the first Easter was celebrated as well. We watched our Easter service online via God’s gift of technology.

After taking our communion, which consisted of room temperature coffee and a piece of stale popcorn, our pastor began speaking about Jesus’ last words on the cross. This idea completely changed my prayer game, not to mention changed my life as someone who pretty consistently battled worry and anxiety.

He began to explain we should be praying those words and release ourselves to the Lord, just as Jesus released his spirit to his Father on the cross. “Father, into your hands I commit my ______________.” You fill in the blank. I commit my job, my finances, my health, my family, you name it.

This Easter sermon has stuck with me for the past few years, and the first night I had to lay my 3-day-old baby in the bare bassinet beside me, I committed my son to my Heavenly Father. I began to pray that prayer every night, even those nights I was too tired to finish a full prayer and would drift off to sleep before I got very far in my conversation with the Lord.

My son was God’s child before he was ever mine.

And I pray this prayer helps me release the helicopter-mom tendencies I know I sometimes possess.

RELATED: It’s Hard to Imagine, But God Loves Them More

Things are slowly reminding me that my baby won’t be this small forever. Our newborn clothes are already packed away  (though when you are nine pounds at birth, that happens rather quickly). Our naps are lasting 30 minutes instead of two hours, and we are alert more than we are sleepy. Our bedroom isn’t as bright as it used to be because the older he grows, the more peaceful my heart becomes and the less light I need. 

Alyssa Mashaw

Follower of Jesus, wife, boy mama, and former teacher who loves to share my love of writing through the eyes of motherhood.

I Have Anxiety and Depression—and I’m a Good Mom

In: Faith, Motherhood
I Have Anxiety and Depression—and I'm a Good Mom www.herviewfromhome.com

My name is Lauren. I have depression. And I’m a good mom.   It took me a few months to be able to tell what it was. I was withdrawn. Sad. Uninterested. Joy stripped. Resentful. It took everything I had in me to get out of bed in the morning, let alone take care of the kids. I was alone in my sorrow, and drowning in my shame. I knew that something needed to change. My name is Lauren. I have depression. I take my antidepressant. And because of it, I’m a better mom It took me a few months...

Keep Reading

Is Satan Stealing Your Motherhood?

In: Faith, Motherhood
Is Satan Stealing Your Motherhood? www.herviewfromhome.com

“Stop . . . whining,” I growl through gritted teeth, eyes flashing as I narrow them yet again at my four-year-old.  Her hands stay firmly planted on her hips, lip curled up at an angle that foreshadows the teenager yet to come. She huffs back in contempt.  “You’re failing,” a voice sneers inside my head.  “Mah-meeee!” The toddler wails from her room, waking me with a jolt from a just-achieved slumber. 1:37 a.m. I glance over at my husband, still snoring in gentle oblivion, as she ratchets up her howling. Sighing, I fumble in the dark for my glasses and...

Keep Reading

Hey Mama, Let God Take Care of the Big Stuff

In: Faith, Motherhood

Every mama has her day. When she is the water in a pan—and life keeps cranking up the heat until she boils over and no one can stop her and bring her back to a calm stillness. Today was mine. It hit me while I was standing in the middle of our master bedroom splattered with not-sure-if-that’s-clean-or-dirty laundry baskets and random toys … a visual representation of the chaos in my brain and the unorganized array of emotions I’ve felt over the last couple of weeks. And I just fell to my knees and let it out. The “good cry”....

Keep Reading

5 Secrets to the

BEST Summer Ever!

FREE EMAIL BONUS

Creating simple summer memories

with your kids that will  last a lifetime