A Gift for Mom! 🤍

For several years when it came to attending church, it was me with my first- and second-born children. My husband works as a restaurant manager and usually isn’t able to attend.

Taking two kids to church by myself was certainly not easy, but I somehow figured out how to make it manageable. Going to church and helping my kids learn about God—I’ve always wanted these things to be priorities.

Often, they went to children’s classes where they made a cross out of wooden craft sticks or colored a picture of Noah’s ark. They listened to a Bible story and sang songs.

Sometimes they came with me to the sanctuary where they learned about worship in a different way. They clapped and sang along to the praise songs. They fidgeted during the message, but I was always amazed at what they absorbed when, during lunch, I asked them what they learned at church.

Throughout the week, they recited memory verses or practiced dance moves they learned during children’s church. My oldest read Bible stories to his sister.

Then my third child was born.

I love him so much, but he is the one. The one who resists naps. The one who fights sleep at night. The one who is hungry all the time. The one who cannot be still for even three seconds. The one who hates being away from me.

Going to church got really difficult.

Other babies slept through the service, but mine cried. Other babies bounced happily on their moms’ laps, but mine screamed. Other babies played nicely with rattles, but mine threw his toys.

When he got a little bit older, I tried dropping him off in the nursery. About 10 minutes into the service, a nursery volunteer would text me and ask me to pick up my very aware infant who could not be consoled.

As he entered the crawling and walking stages, it became more challenging to chase the youngest around the lobby while the older kids were in their classes.

I am embarrassed to admit it, but I gave up on church for a while.

Sometimes, at home on Sunday mornings, I would play a DVD with Bible stories. Or we might watch some of the church service on its Facebook page.

While going to church might have felt impossible, not going to church just felt wrong. Sad. Lonely. Despite these feelings, I continued to tell myself it just wasn’t worth it.

Then one day my oldest asked, “Can we go back to church?”

My daughter, the middle child, chimed in. “Yeah, I want to go back to church, too!”

I thought about pulling out all my typical excuses, “It’s too hard with your little brother. He just screams if I drop him off in the nursery, and he doesn’t do well in the sanctuary. It’s really difficult to chase him around the lobby.”

Instead, I looked at my children asking me to help them have a relationship with God and said, “Yes. We’ll go back to church.”

And so, a couple weeks ago, we did. We went back to church. The big kids were excited to return to their classes, and I was incredibly nervous for the moment when I dropped off my youngest. I figured he would cling to me and cry when I left the nursery.

But you know what? He didn’t. He didn’t cling. He didn’t cry. It felt like a miracle when he willingly followed the volunteer to some toys, not even concerned about where I was.

I obsessively checked my phone during the church service. I was sure a volunteer would send a message requesting I pick up my littlest one. But the message never came. I sat through the entire service by myself, yet beautifully surrounded by the body of Christ.

I’ve always loved worshipping God through music. As I listened to the praise songs, a few lines from a song called “It Is Finished” moved me to tears:

The cross is my beginning;
The line drawn in the sand.
The end of all my striving;
Now I am born again.

God met me right there.

I didn’t have to keep striving. My kids didn’t have to behave perfectly.

We could go back to church. And I’m so glad we did.

You may also like: 

Dig Yourself Out of the Trenches and Go to Church—Even When It’s Hard

To the Distracted Mom at Church: it’s Worth it

To the Mom Who Hasn’t Been to Church in Awhile, God Still Loves You

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!

April Leiffer Henry

April Leiffer Henry is a writer, wife, mother, and Diet Dr. Pepper addict. She has worked as a newspaper reporter, public relations specialist, and digital strategist. When she’s not writing, April is probably playing with her three children or hiding from them while eating dark chocolate. She also enjoys eating the delicious food her husband makes, reading good books, and listening to musicals.

I Lost My Sight at 16—But It Wasn’t the End of My Vision

In: Faith
Cross and sunset

After my father shot me, I lay in a hospital bed, and my world went dark. I was 16 years old. The injury left me completely blind. But the darkness didn’t stop there. As my physical sight disappeared, something else came into focus—the depth of the wounds I had carried long before that moment, wounds I had never fully allowed myself to see. For years, I had learned how to survive without asking too many questions. I had learned how to minimize what hurt, how to explain things away, how to keep moving forward as if everything were normal. But...

Keep Reading

Ministry Starts Inside Your Own Four Walls

In: Faith
Family around a table

When people hear the word ministry, they often think of missionaries, or the pastor who preaches every Sunday, but in our home, ministry belongs to all of us—even our kids. Growing up, I didn’t think of myself as a ministry kid. Still, when my dad packed our old Astro for the summer and we all piled in, we were on mission. Each kid had a part to play in my dad’s evangelical magic shows (yes, you read that right!). My brother would juggle, my older sister sang, my middle sister flipped the projector slides that shone pictures of Jesus on...

Keep Reading

These Holy Small Things

In: Faith, Motherhood
Children sewing at machine

My 8-year-old-daughter has recently taken up sewing, to my simultaneous delight and chagrin. My delight because I too love sewing; my chagrin because her enthusiasm often outpaces my own abilities, namely, in the undertaking of tedious projects with no pattern. Take, for example, the cloth doll diaper we designed and stitched up together. Granted, the design was fairly basic to draw up and scale. But the minuscule nature of the work, both for my hands and head, was enough to throw me into existential questioning. It was one of those moments when you wonder how the sum of your life...

Keep Reading

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