A Gift for Mom! 🤍

“You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.” Matthew 5:6 (MSG)

Alfredo on breadsticks
and chocolate on chocolate

Full copper mule mugs
and all creamy sauces
Savory, stuffed flank steaks all tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things
White cheddar on popcorn
and crisp bowls of Munchos

Chunky and Monkey
and Chili Cheese Fritos
Grey Goose mixed up with grape cran is a treat
These are a few of my favorite eats

 

When the weight gains

When the clothes shrink
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things,

and then I get really mad

 

Hmf.
According to Jesus’ proposed Sermon on the Mount, my hunger pangs and emotional thirst often seek relief from the wrong food group. Turns out a spiritual feast wins the best recipe for satisfying the soul.

“Hallelujah,” sings my metabolism.

“You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God, “carols the King.

My present grown and flown season of motherhood allows me to better digest Jesus’ wisdom. But getting the memo back in the all-consuming days of raising three kids? Not so much.

Motherhood tends to disrupt our eating patterns in countless ways. If we are talking about real food, we seldom have time to eat let alone worry about healthy consumption. Making sure our kids scarf down a balanced diet takes precedence. We settle for grabbing a handful of Cheetos while running off to soccer practice.

As busy moms screeching through hectic lives, the temptation to allow negativity to stockpile in our pantry also looms large. Many times my feeling feasts consisted of the angry birds special: crabby patties with a side of complaining, fretting, worrying, doubting, raging, and crying over spilled milk.

Emotional binging over the doom and gloom of feeling overwhelmed is an enticing quick fix. Unfortunately, these high calorie, spoonful of sugar recipes adhere to our arteries like Wonder bread. The doctors keep trying to tell us stress is a silent killer…

Finding God in the whirlwind takes mindfulness and effort. Jesus assures us the perseverance fills our bellies,

“He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.”

My world of having three kids right out of the marriage gate tested my Bambi faith early on.

Although I attended church sparingly throughout childhood, my understanding of God was obscure and muddled.

Meeting my husband, John, in college opened my heart and bent my ear to the mystery. Observing his faith swelled a hunger in me to seek the Lord with all my heart. Problem was the striving often dulled under the stress and strain of everyday living.

John worked late hours and traveled often. His hard work provided the blessing of me staying home with our children, but the shift in responsibility required a huge adjustment. Operating as a solopreneur managing the home and caring for the kiddos often wore me down.

Many nights I fell into bed bloated from exhaustion and gassy with self-pity. Looking back now, I realize the self-defeating consequences of my mental languishing.

As moms we tend to set ourselves up for emotional weight watcher fails when we forget to nourish our souls. Zooming through parenting wearing a cape on our back, looking to save the day at our own expense, wreaks havoc on our psyche.

The sooner we recognize the rewarding sustenance of God’s rich banquet, the healthier our life becomes. God’s love is the ultimate elixir. His Grace sweeter than chocolate. Mercy more healing than homemade soup. Compassion more comforting than warm Chamomile.

How do we remember these truths while we dine and dash from one place to the next?

God has taught me to breathe in His presence by being present. I close my eyes and listen for the Holy Spirit. He comes to us in a whisper; with a gentle reminder to remain in the flow of God’s love. Receive and give. Give and receive. Nourishment in, nourishment out.

To be fair, this practice of stepping back and centering myself happened almost never when all my kids were underfoot. But before you label me a hypocrite, please know I share the humble encouragement with you now because I wish someone had enlightened me back in the day.

Of course having an empty nest creates a quiet atmosphere, providing opportunity for such an experience. But I am convinced if we make a practice of stepping out of the madness of our days even if only for a few minutes, peace will find us.

After his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus continued to breathe his foodie wisdom into the air,
“Don’t waste your energy striving for perishable food…. Work for the food that sticks with you, food that nourishes your lasting life, food the Son of Man provides. He and what he does are guaranteed by God the Father to last.” Matthew 6:27 (MSG)

“I am the Bread of Life. The person who aligns with me hungers no more and thirsts no more.” Matthew 6:35 (MSG)
Nowadays I choose foods inclined to stick to my heart instead of my midsection. Snacking on God’s promises has become my new favorite thing.

(Oh, and chocolate. Okay, also white cheddar popcorn. And, if I’m being honest, Olive Garden breadsticks. Alright, alright – anger, frustration, pettiness, worry, fear, annoyance still rear their grumbelly heads. Whatever. I’m human!)

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!

Shelby Spear

A self-described sappy soul whisperer, sarcasm aficionado, and love enthusiast, Shelby is a mom of 3 Millennials writing about motherhood and life from her empty nest. She is the co-author of the book, How Are You Feeling, Momma? (You don't need to say, "I'm fine.") , and you can find her stories in print at Guideposts, around the web at sites like Her View From Home, For Every Mom, Parenting Teens & Tweens and on her blog shelbyspear.com.

Life Lessons from My Grown Children

In: Faith, Motherhood
Two women's hands on teacups

“Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.” – Rabindranath Tagore Quietly communing with a loved one in the early morning hours is such an intimate and precious time. Visiting with one’s grown child when all is dark and still is one of life’s purest pleasures. I remember the conversation clearly. My daughter’s husband, small children, and father were all asleep as we whispered and chatted. She and I are both fidgeters by nature, unable to be still for long. This inner restlessness must be remedied, and we are compelled by biology to...

Keep Reading

My Prayer Is Simple Now: “I Believe; Help My Unbelief.”

In: Faith
Woman sitting by water

I have spent most of my life in faith. Not circling it or analyzing it from a distance, but inside it—learning its language before I even realized I was learning it, shaping myself around it in ways that felt as natural as breathing. I was raised in Christian Science, which is a very particular kind of faith. It’s not really about “believing” in the way most people think. It’s about understanding. Aligning your thoughts with what is ultimately true about God and reality. If you can understand rightly, you can be well. If you can see clearly, healing follows. So...

Keep Reading

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

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
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“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
Family smiling in posed photo

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
Woman with folded hands looking up

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
Woman praying

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