Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

“What if I die before they grow?” This question has haunted me every day since I became a mother at 18. Although I didn’t know what I was doing then, and sometimes still don’t (let’s face it, this momming thing is tough), I still knew they needed me. Back then, I used to fret over who would feed them and where they would live, but through the years, the worries have shifted to who will teach them the good stuff and listen to their fears. Their dads will teach them the daddy stuff, but mommies have that soft touch and gentle way of making everything better. So for the last 15 years I have subtly brainwashed my mom (I know she knows but she’d never say it) with my parenting anecdotes and a list of must-dos so that if I go before they grow, at least they will have her to give them what I can’t.

So, Mom, if I go before they grow . . . 

Make sure they remember how to pray. Not the scripted prayers they have recited for years, but the real conversations with God. Remind them that although it may feel silly to speak to the air, He hears their cries, tears, and excitement and is there for them. Urge them to keep this relationship strong as it is the most important one they will have. Encourage them by ensuring they know that the closer they are to God, the closer they’ll be to me.

Make sure they remember to eat their vegetables (preferably the organic kind). I know they only do it now because I force them and oftentimes hide it in their meals so they don’t realize they’re eating it, but they’ll need those nutrients later.

Make sure they remember to not work too hard and to choose a profession they have passion for. They won’t realize until it’s too late that being married to your job causes your marriage to suffer, and they’ll miss out on loving life by filling their lives with work they hate. Remind them they spend more time there than they do at home, so be sure it means something.

Make sure they remember family comes first. Life becomes this priority that oftentimes builds a wall between the people you love most. Even when you can’t stand them and they irritate you to no end, they are your blood and you will undoubtedly miss them when they’re gone.

Make sure they remember to be kind always and use their manners. Mean is the way of the world these days. We pull out our cell phones to record fights instead of breaking them up and like videos of people being ugly instead of projecting beauty into our world. Kind people with manners may seem to lose, but they win with God. Every. Time.

Make sure they remember integrity and to keep their word. Even when they don’t want to or the mood that they made the promise in has left, hold them to their word. At the end of the day, what they do behind closed doors and their ability to follow through become the foundation of their character.

Make sure they remember drugs are always bad, and alcohol is only good in moderation after you’re 21. But just in case they forget, here’s the best hangover remedy: two Advil and a bottle of Gatorade BEFORE bed. Only share that once so that if they forget they will experience the worst headache of their life. That should be enough to prove my point.

Make sure they remember that sex creates a soul tie that is impossible to cut and that babies are cute but A LOT of responsibility. They won’t always keep this with them in the heat of the moment, but they will deal with the aftermath of those soul ties forever. The pain will be unbearable, but it will teach them. Have them babysit a newborn. Even sex won’t allow them to forget the deafening sounds of newborn cries.

Make sure they remember choosing a life partner is one of the most significant choices they’ll make. Marriage is hard but worth it. Remind them that settling inevitably will end in divorce. Being picky now creates a more favorable outcome.

Make sure they remember to soak in every second of their wedding day. Alcohol isn’t worth missing the memories. It will go by in a flash, and pictures can only capture so many memories. Allow your first sight of your partner at the end of that aisle to be burned into your soul. Remember that feeling when you argue. It will prevent diarrhea of the mouth.

Make sure they remember old people are the fountain of knowledge. Encourage them to put down their technology and listen to free wisdom. It’s better than any book they will ever read.

Make sure they save their money and their memories. One to create the memories and the other to keep them sane when the money isn’t as abundant.

Make sure they remember the first impression is important but their character is everything. Who they are and Whose they are will drive their actions. Other people can’t help but to see that.

Make sure they remember that appearance fades, but character will never change. Not only should they be cognizant of how that applies to them, but remind them of that when picking a mate, their circle, and their career. Looks will not last. That’s certain. But basic morals and values don’t change.

And lastly, make sure they remember me. All of me. My mistakes and how I learned from them. The way that I remained resilient no matter what. But most importantly, the way they made me the best me.

When I go, make sure they know I loathed the day I had to leave them, but I will always be with them. And above all else, emphasize that they never needed me, because I was only borrowing them from God for a short time. Although I’m gone, He’s still there and always will be to make sure they grow.

Thanks Mom! And if you go before they grow, I’ll make sure they know all of these lessons I learned from you.

Originally published on the author’s blog

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

Karey Warriner

A mother, teach, and author, I write to heal and to bring others to healing. My ministry, Single Plus Two, is an avenue for single mothers to connect, breathe, and find their way.

I Thought Our Friendship Would Be Unbreakable

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Two friends selfie

The message notification pinged on my phone. A woman, once one of my best friends, was reaching out to me via Facebook. Her message simply read, “Wanted to catch up and see how life was treating you!”  I had very conflicting feelings. It seemed with that one single message, a flood of memories surfaced. Some held some great moments and laughter. Other memories held disappointment and hurt of a friendship that simply had run its course. Out of morbid curiosity, I clicked on her profile page to see how the years had been treating her. She was divorced and still...

Keep Reading

The First 10 Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

In: Journal, Marriage, Relationships
The First Ten Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking www.herviewfromhome.com

We met online in October of 2005, by way of a spam email ad I was THIS CLOSE to marking as trash. Meet Single Christians! My cheese alert siren sounded loudly, but for some reason, I unchecked the delete box and clicked through to the site. We met face-to-face that Thanksgiving. As I awaited your arrival in my mother’s kitchen, my dad whispered to my little brother, “Hide your valuables. Stacy has some guy she met online coming for Thanksgiving dinner.” We embraced for the first time in my parents’ driveway. I was wearing my black cashmere sweater with the...

Keep Reading

To The Mother Who Is Overwhelmed

In: Inspiration, Motherhood
Tired woman with coffee sitting at table

I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone. We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle...

Keep Reading

You’re a Little Less Baby Today Than Yesterday

In: Journal, Motherhood
Toddler sleeping in mother's arms

Tiny sparkles are nestled in the wispy hair falling across her brow, shaken free of the princess costume she pulled over her head this morning. She’s swathed in pink: a satiny pink dress-up bodice, a fluffy, pink, slightly-less-glittery-than-it-was-two-hours-ago tulle skirt, a worn, soft pink baby blanket. She’s slowed long enough to crawl into my lap, blinking heavy eyelids. She’s a little less baby today than she was only yesterday.  Soon, she’ll be too big, too busy for my arms.  But today, I’m rocking a princess. The early years will be filled with exploration and adventure. She’ll climb atop counters and...

Keep Reading

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

In: Marriage, Motherhood, Relationships
Man and woman kissing in love

Dear husband, I loved you first. But often, you get the last of me. I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my make-up was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100% has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere. But there were days when...

Keep Reading

Stop Being a Butthole Wife

In: Grief, Journal, Marriage, Relationships
Man and woman sit on the end of a dock with arms around each other

Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it.  Let’s start with the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It’s maddening. It’s insanity. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? I mean, grow up and help out around here, man. There is no laundry fairy. What if that pile of laundry is a gift in disguise from a God you can’t (yet) see? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Be Everyone’s Chick-fil-A Sauce

In: Friendship, Journal, Living, Relationships
woman smiling in the sun

A couple of friends and I went and grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A a couple of weeks ago. It was delightful. We spent roughly $20 apiece, and our kids ran in and out of the play area barefoot and stinky and begged us for ice cream, to which we responded, “Not until you finish your nuggets,” to which they responded with a whine, and then ran off again like a bolt of crazy energy. One friend had to climb into the play tubes a few times to save her 22-month-old, but it was still worth every penny. Every. Single. One. Even...

Keep Reading

Love Notes From My Mother in Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Journal, Living
Woman smelling bunch of flowers

Twelve years have passed since my mother exclaimed, “I’ve died and gone to Heaven!” as she leaned back in her big donut-shaped tube and splashed her toes, enjoying the serenity of the river.  Twelve years since I stood on the shore of that same river, 45 minutes later, watching to see if the hopeful EMT would be able to revive my mother as she floated toward his outstretched hands. Twelve years ago, I stood alone in my bedroom, weak and trembling, as I opened my mother’s Bible and all the little keepsakes she’d stowed inside tumbled to the floor.  It...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendships End, No Matter How Hard You Try

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Sad woman alone without a friend

I tried. We say these words for two reasons. One: for our own justification that we made an effort to complete a task; and two: to admit that we fell short of that task. I wrote those words in an e-mail tonight to a friend I had for nearly 25 years after not speaking to her for eight months. It was the third e-mail I’ve sent over the past few weeks to try to reconcile with a woman who was more of a sister to me at some points than my own biological sister was. It’s sad when we drift...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the House That Built Me

In: Grown Children, Journal, Living, Relationships
Ranch style home as seen from the curb

In the winter of 1985, while I was halfway done growing in my mom’s belly, my parents moved into a little brown 3 bedroom/1.5 bath that was halfway between the school and the prison in which my dad worked as a corrections officer. I would be the first baby they brought home to their new house, joining my older sister. I’d take my first steps across the brown shag carpet that the previous owner had installed. The back bedroom was mine, and mom plastered Smurf-themed wallpaper on the accent wall to try to get me to sleep in there every...

Keep Reading