The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

“You don’t have a full plate right now,” she said. “You have a platter at an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

It had been a year of back-to-back punches. You know, the kind of year where you feel so knocked down you’re not sure you’ll make it back to standing. My friend was attempting to balance me the way you balance a too-full glass of water on the way to bed–cautiously and with much care.

At the tail-end of my tailspin, I found myself navigating a divorce during the middle of a pandemic. Not exactly the answer I gave to “where do you see yourself in five years” at that job interview in 2015.

Expectations are tough that way.

Things fall apart because our world is broken by sin, and yet, every single time, I find myself surprised that things don’t work out and that people leave and that life can be so painful.

RELATED: Seasons Change But God is Constant

I’m a dreamer by nature, a planner. If you want to know what life will look like in five years, I can tell you with pinpointed accuracy, complete with a Pinterest board and matching outfits. That’s just how the Lord built me, and I swear it’s going to serve someone someday.

But for now, those grandiose dreams are hard to reconcile with reality. Have you ever found yourself desperately searching for meaning out of a pile of rubble? Searching the ashes for even a glimmer of the thing you knew you were destined to have?

Shattered dreams are hard like that.

And I think the enemy wants nothing more than to leave us right there–a pile of ashes, smoke still rising from the thing we loved that burned to the ground.

It’s easy to stay there. It’s easy to set your focus on the thing you’ve lost, the thing you never had, the thing that was taken from you.

Grief is all-consuming like that. It’s like quicksand. The more you struggle, the more it consumes until, before you know it, you’re up to your neck gasping for the next breath.

RELATED: God Actually Does Give Us More Than We Can Handle

And whether it’s a broken marriage or an unexpected death, a lost pregnancy or a failed business–it hurts. Pain is relative, and it’s not a competition.

Hurt is hurt. Betrayal is betrayal. Loss is loss.

It’s all part of the human experience, they say, but it was never supposed to be this way, and I think that’s why it feels so hard.

“Everyone has their thing,” someone once told me. The more I thought about that, the more I accepted its truth. Some people get the marriage but not the baby. Others get the job but not the marriage. Some people get the baby but not the health. Pain is relative, and we all carry some with us.

Comparison is toxic like that. In our world, it’s easier than ever to identify all the ways you don’t measure up, and we find ourselves playing a constant game of where do I rank?

We weren’t made for that either.

The Bible tells us to grieve. It acknowledges that we need to feel and experience pain. But it also encourages us to move forward with hope.

Joyce Meyer taught a sermon on the passing of Moses as described in Deuteronomy 34:8, “The Israelites grieved for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days, until the time of weeping and mourning was over” (NIV).

RELATED: Tragedy Changes You, But it Doesn’t Have To Ruin You

Thirty days. Under the Old Testament law, that was the prescribed period for grieving. I thought it sounded harsh until I heard Joyce Meyer’s teaching. The 30 days wasn’t a callous instruction that ignored the human need to mourn. Quite the opposite; it was a loving nudge that acknowledged the difficulty of pain but encouraged perseverance. It was about not getting stuck.

And I think, if the enemy can’t deceive us, he’ll distract us. Getting stuck in grief and bitterness is a great way to keep our eyes off the hope and future God promises.

So if you’re with me in the muck today, if you’re knocked down and struggling to find your footing, I hope you’ll hear this:

Take your time. Be gentle with yourself. Let yourself go there and feel all the things and cry until your voice is hoarse. Let yourself be angry and devastated in the same day. Take the time you need to stand back up.

But whatever you do–don’t get stuck. In the height of your grief, don’t lose focus.

You’ll make it out of this season, trust me. But more importantly, trust Him.

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!

Kendra Barnes

Kendra is co-founder of Daylight to Dark, a lifestyle blog. She's a fun-loving wife and momma to a spirited, blue-eyed girl and a particularly jolly baby boy. She's an expert at holding down the fort, abandoning her coffee, and interjecting just the right amount of snark into any conversation. Through her love of writing, she aspires to share how she turns regular days into memories.

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

Finding God in the Middle of Disbelief: A Mom’s Journey through Faith and Fear

In: Faith
Mother holding hand of young child, silhouette

“But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior; so my persecutors will stumble and not triumph over me.” – Jeremiah 20:11 God, thank You for making sure my son is okay. Thank You for this just being paranoia. I believe in You. I believe in Your control. I believe. I believe. I believe. These words streamed through my head as my husband drove us downtown to visit our first specialist with our 4-month-old son, Maximus. Our pediatrician had written me off, but I could not ignore the feeling in my bones that something was wrong. Tiny, hard bumps...

Keep Reading

In Praise of Indebtedness: How Threads of Reciprocity Weave Us Together

In: Faith, Living
Woman holding casserole

It all started with tomatoes. After we moved, a neighbor invited us to pick from the abundance in her and her husband’s gardens. In return for a pile of tomatoes gathered from their raised beds, I left a plastic bag of homegrown pumpkins on their porch. Later that summer, our neighbor stopped by with a recycled container full of still more fruits. By the fall, we were sharing chili and cookies over dinner at our place. Threads of indebtedness were weaving us together. For most of my life, the idea of indebtedness has tasted rather repulsive on my tongue. The...

Keep Reading