Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

Dear child,

I have discovered my most important contribution as a parent. I get to teach you– daily–that people aren’t perfect. Ugh! It’s a rotten, humiliating gig. You notice all the inconsistencies in my words and behavior, hypocrisy magnified through the microscope of so much time spent together. And despite all my dreams of being a calm and loving mother, you also see me at my tired or angry worst and feel the brunt of my humanity because parenting happens 24/7.

RELATED: God Doesn’t Ask Me To Be a Perfect Mom; He Asks Me To Point My Kids to a Perfect Savior

I imagine that someday you will rejoice at the chance for independence, starting fresh, and doing things your own way. You will have big dreams of doing a much better job than I ever could.

But unfortunately, I will just be the first in a long line of disappointments.

Sometime in your early independence, your friends, or college roommates, or significant others will also make serious missteps–and you will begin to recognize that fallenness is a more common condition than you had once supposed. Broken promises, missed appointments, heated words, fractured friendships–they will all begin to fray the edges of your trust.

At some point, a high and mighty hero will fall. A respected leader’s secret addictions or bad judgment will come to light. You will wonder who you can trust, if not your parents, friends, or heroes.

And then? I’m sorry to be the bearer of this bad news, but it’s got to be said. At some point, your own brokenness will come into focus.

Perhaps at the beginning of marriage, with its awkward attempts at sharing not only a home, but time and dreams, or your first child, who will test you beyond your (perceived) limits, or a failed responsibility–your human-ness will be nakedly exposed. Your own short temper, self-centeredness, and stubborn failures will smack you backward.

You–a new, fresh human who was going to get it all right–you will be exposed as a fraud, either to others or to yourself. It will not be as easy as you thought. Your human condition will betray your plans, expectations, and hopes like it betrays us all.

Whether we strive to do good and be helpful or give in to selfish cravings at the expense of others, our humanity plagues us all–parent and child.

Our words and actions show that no human heart has the ability to be everlastingly patient, loving, or wise.

We cannot trust each other, and we cannot trust ourselves.

RELATED: To My Daughter When I Fail

But now that you know what you can’t trust, dear child, let me tell you what you can.  

I have found One who is strong and unchanging and pure, without any hypocrisy, who doesn’t crack with self-will or hidden desires. One who always does what is best for the other. He is a treasure in an unpredictable storm of humans. And while He won’t perfect us or make us invincible superheroes, He will be a rock we can stand on and a guide for our journeys, an example to follow and a hope for all nations.

He is Someone who–without any hesitation, alternate agenda, or selfish gain–gave His all for failing humans like you and me. You can trust Him even when you can’t trust yourself.

And this is why, while you will still find fault with me and I will keep on tripping, I will keep pointing you toward Him. Don’t let my failures cause you to reject or ignore the beauty of this grace personified and love embodied. I will fail you, friends will fail you, and you will fail yourself–I can promise you that–but I can also promise you this . . . the One who put the stars in the heavens, holds the oceans in their places, and formed you before I even met you? He will never fail you.

With lots of love,
Your always-loving, often-failing, thankfully-forgiven mom

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Becka Asper

Becka lives in Des Moines, Iowa with her husband and five bio & foster kids. She is a youth leader for middle school and refugee students at her church, and worked with teenage moms through YoungLives for over 12 years. She blogs at The Reclaimed Life, and you can follow her on Instagram and Facebook.

To the Mom Trying to Do It All, You’re In God’s Way

In: Faith, Motherhood
To the Mom Trying to Do It All, You're In God's Way www.herviewfromhome.com

I’m a laid-back perfectionist. Seriously, it’s a thing. I am completely at peace going out in public looking like I just got electrocuted, in the shower, fully clothed, while cutting my hair. But I won’t even attempt (fill in the blank) if there’s even a small chance of failure. I don’t know if that’s being a perfectionist or just a coward. So when I got married, I realized pretty quickly I wasn’t the perfect wife. It was shocking to no one but me. Much to my dismay, I wasn’t as good of a cook or hostess or decorator or housekeeper as I thought I’d...

Keep Reading

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

In: Faith, Motherhood
Little girl sitting on window seat, color photo

I see you, mama, holding on tightly to those precious children of yours. It feels like if you hold on tight enough then nothing bad can happen to them. You are clenching your fists tighter and tighter, holding on with all your strength. I see the worry in your eyes, worried about things you can’t control—their future, the big emotions, the mean words someone speaks to them, the heartache we all know will happen. RELATED: Is Satan Stealing Your Motherhood? I see concern written all over your face when they get sick, when you feel like there is nothing you...

Keep Reading

God Is Faithful Even When We Don’t Feel It

In: Faith, Motherhood
Little boys playing with Play-Doh, color photo

Tears used to be commonplace in my home. Tears from me, tears from my children. My younger son was diagnosed with autism at the age of three. For so long, my boys didn’t play together. One drove his Matchbox cars while the other jumped on the trampoline. One played cowboys and Indians while the other meandered through the house like a traveler lost in a foreign city. I often held my older son and wiped away his tears as he asked, “Why won’t Bubby play? I just want him to play with me.”   After one particularly rough afternoon, I felt...

Keep Reading