A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Remember that old game hide-and-seek? It was a lot more fun in childhood. But I play a different type now to some degree, every single day sometimes. A game I was unaware of until I went on a recent walk in the woods for one of those conversations with my husband. A man who pursues. Who is imperfect. A man who I trust with my whole being—but, oh, my assumptive fear that hides instead of seeks in our relationship. All in the name of peace.

This hiding curbs my communication and my honesty—putting a rift in my relationship.

This picture of the childhood game does not just suit my marriage relationship, but it’s a game I subconsciously play with God, too. Hiding when I fall into the swamp of self-effort. Condemnation comes, like a fog. Sadness and frustration at falling prey to the same sin patterns again, then the navel-gazing.

RELATED: We’re All a Little Broken, Some Just Hide it Well

All the while curling up within myself, turned away from the gospel that has already sought me out and found me wanting. The gospel that justified me forever in the sight of God. By the power of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who is seated at the right hand of God interceding for me. He doesn’t need to keep going up to God to ask for my pardon every time I mess up and slip into the pride of self-effort and feelings of unworthiness.

No, this good news is fact: Jesus is seated. I am already found. I don’t need to hide.

I can stand up and hide in His embrace or be carried and seen in my mess, again and again.

The unconditional grace of God initiates, bidding us not to hide, but be honest. Because a covenant requires a whole heart. The covenant of marriage and the covenant between me and God. Both are sealed forever—neither is going anywhere. The covenant relationship God has with His people through Jesus Christ is one from a kingdom that is strong and unshakeable. A kingdom we are living in now, and at the same time, we’re not there yet, in its fullness because Jesus tarries in returning.

This is to strengthen our hope and offer the deepest peace. So why do I strain after self-protectionprojecting assumptions from my fear of being too much onto my husband and God?

RELATED: God Crawls Into the Darkness With Us

It’s an issue of control. I want to control the peace and atmosphere around me. I don’t want to ever fuel my husband’s fears or insecurities. And I certainly don’t want to give God any cause to grieve or shake His head at me. But this is contractual thinking—not a covenantal mindset. Or a kingdom mindset.

In the strong and unshakeable kingdom of God, my right standing with God is not at all dependent on my fluctuating feelings or inconsistent patterns or irrational fears.

In this kingdom of God that I am an heir in, I have already been found. And am continually being sought out and pursued. I still need to receive it, again and again. Once and for all, my salvation is assured and received, but the ongoing work of sanctificationbeing taken from glory to gloryis something that must first be received. Taken in. Accepted. So shall the truth of the gospel be. That I was found out and found wanting, but Jesus paid it all—every past sin, present struggle, and future failure—on the cross. Once and for all.

RELATED: God Meets Us In the Mess

How worthy of awe is this fact? And yet I doubt its power and truth in the day-to-day struggle between my flesh and my “new man” that is alive and resurrected with Christ. Between the here and not yet tension of God’s kingdom, I struggle. I forget. I sin unconsciously and consciously.

But grace abounds. It’s not a game of hide-and-seek. I didn’t win it by luck or earn it by work. I didn’t need to find it—God drew near and draws me in. Over and over. Great is His faithfulness. He does the same for you, too, in whatever mess you might find yourself in. Come out of hiding. You are safe.

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!

Meghan DeWalt

Meghan DeWalt is an author of stories about remembrance and redemption. A full-time writer, she is passionate about theology and discipleship, encouraging others to know and love God wholeheartedly in order to live according to their Gospel calling. Meghan lives in Pittsburgh with her husband, Jeff, where they cook, practice hospitality, and adventure together.

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