So God Made a Mother is Here! 🎉

Worthy—that’s a pretty hefty word. And we define it in so many different ways.

We demand that we’re worth it with our mouths and yet live the complete opposite in our actions.

We do this because what we view as worthy changes with our circumstances . . .  which in this life, can be often.

In my teenage years, I viewed myself as worthy only if I could accomplish my goals. I NEEDED to go to a good college and get a good job. Something special. Something great.

When I got pregnant at 18, those plans seemed to drift out of reach. So I realigned. Now, my worth would come from how well I could mother this child.

But I couldn’t just be a good mom. I needed to be the best mom this world had ever seen. I somehow needed to reinvent the wheel that was motherhood. And because of previous hurts, I needed to do it all on my own.

RELATED: I’m Not Asking For Help But I Desperately Need it

Anytime well-meaning family or in-laws wanted to help I took it as a direct insult. They must not think I can handle this. This is MY daughter. I’ve got this.

But a year later, I had completely worn myself out. I watched my friendsstill out having fun, doing whatever they wantedwhile I fought with my husband about taking out the trash, changed diapers, and washed clothes.

Now, my worth would come from getting back some of my freedom.

I wouldn’t, of course, leave my daughter, but I could leave the man. And so began a year-long effort of walking a very thin line between single mom and free to do whatever I pleased 21-year-old.

When I got married for a second time at 22, my worth changed again. Now, it came from proving I could be a good mom AND a good wife. I stayed at home, had two more babies, and proceeded to homeschool my daughter because mommy knows best, right?

I learned to rock two babies at a time. I could carry a pumpkin seat on one arm and a toddler in another while my 4-year-old held tightly to my belt loop. I baked our own bread and cooked every meal.

RELATED: Being a Parent is Exhausting Even If Your Child Isn’t

In hindsight, I’m not sure I could have kept going at the pace. I was running myself ragged trying to prove something to someone. But to whom and what . . . we may never know.

And finally, one day, out of the blue . . . it was over. My second marriage ended on a regular Tuesday, right before Christmas, and I was furious. Not necessarily with my ex-husband, not with myself, not with the lawyers and the judges. I was furious with God.

I had worked so hard. And it still didn’t work out.

I had to go back to work. I had to enroll my kids in school. I was no longer a wife. Everything that made me feel worthy was gone. So once again I readjusted to a new life.

This time, though, the things I measured my worth by were a little less noble. My worth now was measured by how many friends I had, how busy I stayed, how many guys tried to talk to me, my new outfit for the bar.

Slowly, this way of life led to a very heavy depression. And I changed my view once again. I needed to get back what I had lost. And as crazy as it sounds, I knew what I needed to be worthy again . . . a husband.

I’m not even going to sugarcoat it. I drove that guy almost insane. I just knew if he married me it would be the answer to all my problems. There are no truer words than Garth Brooks’, “Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers.”

In all fairness, I wasn’t looking for a man to take care of me. I was looking for someone to take care of. A safety net, yes. But more of someone to fill the space in my heart and nights that felt so lonely. Someone to appreciate me. To love me.

It took me a long time to realize I was looking to outside things to fix an inside problem.

I kept measuring my worth by these incredibly fickle, external circumstances. Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you are there.

Maybe you’ve been looking everywhere you can think to find something that finally quiets that nasty voice in your head. And if you’re like me, the more you look the more that voice just keeps getting louder and louder.

Every time I tried something, I’d just mess up. And that seemed to give the voice more ammunition to use against me. So I’d run harder and faster to the next thing.

I honestly don’t know when it happened. When it finally clicked that I was doing it all wrong. But I can assure you it wasn’t because of anything I was doing right.

RELATED: From the Tired Mom in Need of Grace

And honestly, it’s still like grabbing sand from the bottom of the ocean. I think I have a grasp on it but the waves pull me back out and take most of the sand with it. I can never quite take hold of it completely. But I don’t let that stop me.

I know now my worth isn’t in what I’ve done or haven’t done. It’s not in whether I’m a wife or not. It’s not in how I choose to educate my children or what kind of bread I feed them. It’s not in my degree or my job. It’s not in who likes me or who doesn’t.

My worth comes simply because God says it. It’s mine simply because He gave it.

I am worthy because of the blood Jesus spilled to make me worthy. There’s no other reason for it.

And the same holds true for you. You are worthy. You don’t have to keep searching for it or chasing after it. You already hold it.

The only thing left to do is live in it. You can’t go back and change things. You can’t go back and undo things. But you can walk away from that striving and simply rest for a while in the knowledge that you are chosen.

RELATED: When I Wonder Who I Am, I Remember I Am His

The Lord has a plan for your life. And it’s not a constant battle to fight for your place. It’s tough, sure. But it’s also peaceful.

Because you don’t have to earn it. You just have to own it.

Whatever your past is, whatever your mistakes or failures, you just need to know you are worthy. It’ll break your heart that someone could love you so much. It should. But it will also heal your heart.

The only thing for you to figure out today is whether or not you will accept what the Lord has already done for you. Who He has already made you. Nothing more. Nothing less.

It’s as simple and as complicated as allowing your heart to be broken over the only thing that really matters and then allowing the only One who really can heal it.

I know you can do this. I believe in you. Because I believe in me. And if someone like me can be made worthy, I know there’s hope for someone like you.

Previously published on the author’s blog

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

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

Order Now

Veronica Dunkin

Veronica is a freelance writer from Alabama. She is a single mom of three teenagers so she always needs prayers! She loves Jesus, reading, writing, and all things self-help.

The Grace and Grief of Being a Medical Mama

In: Faith, Motherhood
Hospital bed and IV stand, black-and-white photo

Medical mama—this title and this view hit me. It hits me at different times and in different ways, but it hits me, hard.  Some days, I crumble with thankfulness that God has such a specific plan for my sweet, golden, middle daughter, that He would make ways where it feels there is no way.  There are other times when it hits me with anger and bitterness because I can’t figure out why, in a world full of medical interventions, this is our “fix.”  It hits me.  In the wee hours of another night in the hospital, it hits me that grace...

Keep Reading

I Buried My Heart with My Baby but God Brought Me Back to Life

In: Faith, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman in a sweater standing outside looking at sunset

Recently, my world felt as if it were crashing around me. I was so angry I think my rage could have burned a small village. Unfortunately, that rage was directed at God though I knew that wasn’t what I needed to be directing toward Him. He owed me nothing then, and He owes me nothing now; however, my heart was shattered, and for a while, it seemed as if my faith was crumbling with it. I stopped going to church. I stopped praying. I stopped all positive feelings and allowed myself to succumb to the pain and the anger. When...

Keep Reading

Dear New Mom, God Is Only a Whisper Away

In: Baby, Faith, Motherhood
New mother holding baby on couch, eyes closed

While we were waiting to adopt, I would wake up in the middle of the night panicky. My mind would wander to the thought of suddenly having a baby. With groggy eyes and a cobwebbed mind, I would ask myself, “Could I get up right now to go soothe a crying baby?” And then the insecurities would flood me as I thought through the difficulty of dragging myself out of bed to give milk to a fussy newborn. I didn’t know if I could.  With each application sent to agencies and social workers, the possibility of adopting a baby became more...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter, You Gave Me Purpose

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding baby, color photo

Dear daughter, Before God knit you in my womb, I was wandering around aimlessly, searching for a purpose. I had changed my mind several times about what I wanted to do with my life. I felt so much pressure to figure out what I truly wanted. I rushed into career ideas, only to realize I wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of them. I started grad school, only to quit in three weeks. I was crushed and defeated. I begged God to show me His plan, to give me a purpose. I begged Him to give me something I...

Keep Reading

God Holds Her Every Step of the Way

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding infant baby's feet, color photo

We were told she wouldn’t make it to 20 weeks. When she made it, we were told she wouldn’t survive to full-term. When she survived to full-term, we were told she wouldn’t grow properly. When she grew, she thrived. When she thrived, she confused the doctors. RELATED: Keep Fighting, Little Miracle When the doctors tried to find the science to explain away her defeating all the odds, I had the answers. God. Prayers. Miracles. At 10 weeks when I found out about her condition, I prayed. I gathered my prayer warriors, and we prayed. Ultrasound after ultrasound, the technician was...

Keep Reading

Your Marriage Can’t Sit in a Laundry Basket without Getting a Few Wrinkles

In: Faith, Marriage
Couple doing laundry in front of washing machine

Bring on the bottled scent of fresh mountain breeze and seaside lavender. I’ll happily perform the swivel dance of transferring clothes from washer to dryer. I’ll hang those darlings with delicate personalities to gently air dry. I don’t mind the doing part. I’ll do laundry ’til the cows come home. It’s the folding part that I tend to put off. The cows have come home and gone to pasture several times, and that basket of clothes is most likely still sitting there developing more wrinkles than a baby bulldog.  And don’t even get me started on ironing. Let’s just say...

Keep Reading

Overwhelmed Mama, Take a Moment to Sit at the Feet of Jesus

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman sitting in hallway, black and white image

Mama friend, I know you’re exhausted. It feels like you have nothing left to give. You know you need to take a moment for yourself, but you don’t know how. I know it all feels endless—like it will never be any different. I know you long for a week, a day, or an hour to yourself but take this moment. Put the baby in the playpen. Tell the kids to play in their room. Sit down somewhere away from the dirty dishes in the sink and the pile of laundry that has been waiting to be folded for days. Step...

Keep Reading

The Ring Came from a Stranger from Heaven

In: Faith, Living
Large ring on woman's hand, color photo

This ring is not much to look at now—a well-worn piece of turquoise costume jewelry, its cheap metal revealing its quality and insignificant cost. But the value of this ring, “The Ring,” rivals that of my diamond and gold wedding band. It is priceless. For me, it is tangible proof of how an unseen God orchestrates events, circumstances, and people to remind me that miracles do happen and that He hears me—especially when I hurt. I happened upon this precious keepsake at a time in my life when things seemed to be falling apart and when I was feeling very sorry...

Keep Reading

A Mother’s Day Kintsugi Birdhouse: Beauty from Brokenness

In: Faith, Motherhood
Broken birdhouse lying beneath tree, color photo

Seated at the sunroom breakfast table, mouth full of Special K, I glance out the row of windows. A flutter of gray-blue against white paint catches my eye. I quickly swallow. “Y’all, a bird just went inside the bluebird house!” We all stand in a row, mimicking the windows. Yes, my sleepy morning eyes did not deceive me. Tail feathers were protruding from the circular opening. At last, a bird had found its way to this little white house with a tin roof nailed to a lone holly tree in the middle of our backyard. This was not the original...

Keep Reading

A Mother Gives Everything for Always

In: Faith, Motherhood
Young girl kissing mother on cheek

My eyes flickered open and closed as I lay on the hospital bed after giving birth to my first-born daughter. The lights above me felt painfully bright as my eyes fought hard to stay open. Almost lifeless, my body had never felt so depleted. I lay there in a dream-like state, watching the world go on in full speed around me while inside I was in slow motion, barely strong enough to partake in the joy of bringing my daughter into the world. I had given every last ounce of myself, poured out until there was not much left. My...

Keep Reading