So God Made a Mother is Here! 🎉

“It’s so bad. We furloughed almost everyone today. My dad is a mess.”

That’s the text message I received from my friend, a long-time restaurant owner. For years her family has weathered whatever the economy has thrown at them. They’ve changed their business and become more efficient. They’ve expanded their offerings and met the needs of their customers. They sponsored little league teams, fed the homeless, and bought advertisements to support school programming.

They’ve built a dream out of blood, sweat, and tears.

They didn’t ask for much. They weren’t looking to become wealthy. They only wanted to provide for their families and do what they loved—just like the millions of small business owners across the country suffering right now.

There is no “stay at home and relax” for small businesses. There is no “take this time for your family.”

The weight of the world is on their shoulders with no end in sight.

RELATED: In Times Like These, it’s Okay To Cry

Please know that your customers and your supporters see it, too.

We see the once-crowded parking lots practically empty. We miss seeing the friendly faces at our favorite restaurants or the barber who cuts our kids’ hair. We wince when we hear of increasing restrictions. We shake our heads in sadness as stores are mandated to close.

Adam Erace, an award-winning food and travel writer based in Philadelphia, recently started a campaign called #Five4Fifty, a pledge to spend at least $5 at a small business every day for the next 50 days. It won’t solve everything, but we’ll do whatever we can to help you stay afloat.

We’re all trying our best right now, but no one knows what to do. We try and order take out when we can. We buy gift cards at our favorite salons or local shops. We look to support you through online sales.

But it’s not enough to stop the fear that you’re feeling. I get that.

I know things seem hopeless right now, but let me make a promise to you: do your best to hold on during this time, and we will be back.

We will eat out as often as possible and shop in your stores. We’ll pick up extra donuts at the corner bakery and a bouquet from the downtown florist. We’ll buy gifts at the local book shop and a beer at the pub. We’ll tip our servers well and stop at the farm stand on the road.

I know you feel alone right now, I know you are scared, but we are in this together. 

And I promise you, we’ll be back.

RELATED: 

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

Whitney Fleming

Whitney is a mom of three teen daughters, a freelance writer, and co-partner of the site parentingteensandtweens.com You can find her on Facebook at WhitneyFlemingWrites.

Hello 40, I’ve Been Waiting for You

In: Living
Woman wearing 1983 Original shirt, color photo

Recently, a friend gave me a sweatshirt displaying the words “Nineteen 83 Original.” I slipped the soft fabric over my head and pushed my arms through; the cozy sweatshirt fit perfectly. I looked down at the retro print, loudly and proudly displaying the year: ’83. I contemplated whether to wear it out that night. It was comfortable, I liked the way it felt and looked, and it was honest—I was literally wearing my age. Was that okay?  Would my mom have ever worn a shirt that so boldly proclaimed her age? My aunts? My grandma? Never ask a woman her...

Keep Reading

When Mom Gets a Migraine Life Must Still Go On

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother has a headache, sitting on the couch with kids running around in blur

I can’t tell the story of paramedics from the angle from which they see things, but I can tell it from the angle of the person looking up at them—the one lying in the medically-equipped vehicle with lights flashing and siren audible. There are some lessons in life we learn by blindside—we are thrust into them. That was me that May day in the ambulance.  I had known about migraines; I had decades of first-hand experience with them. I knew vision could be temporarily taken. I have operated countless days with an invisible hammer continuously beating one side of my...

Keep Reading

My Childhood Home Is Forever a Part of Me

In: Grown Children, Living
Mother, father, daughter, older color photo

Of all the places I will roam, home is forever part of me. I can see the bright, orange poppies coming out to grace the springtime hills. I can hear the classic hymns being played on the familiar piano—its notes drifting God’s praise throughout the house. I can smell the fragrant aroma of brown sugar, butter, cinnamon, and oats mixing together to make the cookies of my childhood. I can touch your warm embrace—the firm hug that has always communicated that it will all be okay, that God has us held in the palm of his hands. I can taste...

Keep Reading

Our Kids Need to See Us Slow Down Too

In: Living, Motherhood
Friends with feet up around a fire pit, color photo

I have a girlfriend who has a lake house just over an hour away. It’s in a small town that has a local Mexican restaurant with a fun, easy-going staff that feels like they have to be family. There have been times over the last few years that something about that casual, bright restaurant with its rowdy waiters and surprisingly outstanding, cheap food makes me feel so content. The small lake town is not that far from home, but it feels far enough away to be unavailable to my responsibilities and have a tiny piece of that vacation vibe (without...

Keep Reading

Dear Teachers, Thank You Will Never Be Enough

In: Kids, Living
Kids hugging teacher

Growing up a teacher’s daughter has given me a lifetime of appreciation for educators. Of course, it’s true; I may be biased. I’ve been fortunate to have learned and been guided by many outstanding teachers, including my mother and grandmother, who passed those legacy skills onto my daughter, who strongly feels teaching is her calling. But if you’ve had your eyes and ears open in recent years, you, too, probably feel deep gratitude for the angels among us who work in the school system. So, as the school year ends, and on behalf of parents, grandparents, and anyone who loves...

Keep Reading

When the Last Baby Graduates

In: Grown Children, Living, Motherhood
Graduate with parents smiling, cap and gown

We’ve been through this before, so we know the waves of emotions that roll through us. When our kids graduate—be it from preschool, elementary school, middle school, high school, or college—we moms come to terms with one season ending and a new one beginning. RELATED: I Blinked and You Went From Kindergarten to College When it’s your last child who is graduating from college, this can feel like uncharted territory. Yes, we know that we find new rhythms to our relationship from having gone through this with our other child(ren). But we as moms have not yet left the college...

Keep Reading

The Face In the Mirror Has Changed, But It Tells My Story

In: Living, Motherhood
Woman standing in kitchen next to roses, color photo

If I were to do an inventory of my home of 42 years, I would get a grip on what should be thrown out, given away, or kept. The older I become, the more difficult it is for me to make these decisions. I attempted making a list of personal items I would like each of my sons to have (not that they wouldn’t get rid of them after I am gone) and have started thinking about items to bequeath to grandchildren. I believe I know which son would be happy to acquire books, which son would gladly be the...

Keep Reading

I’ll Do Whatever It Takes to Fight for My Mental Health

In: Living
Woman holding white pill in hand, color photo

Trigger warning: self-harm and suicide mentioned Today, I did one of the hardest things I’ve ever done: I started anxiety medication.  I’ve struggled with anxiety as far back as I can remember. At age eight and on, I remember having crowd and social anxiety and being forced into situations where I felt so unstable. Church functions, stage freight, crowds of people I didn’t feel safe around. At age 15, I experienced my first panic attack. I remember thinking I was having a heart attack, wondering why I’d be dying from a heart attack so young. It wasn’t until I was...

Keep Reading

I’m Done Teaching and the Goodbye Is Hard

In: Living
Empty classroom

Packing up several years’ worth of supplies purchased with my own money, I heave a deep exhale. The room looks so bare now. It’s less colorful and joyful. It’s lost its magic.  I kind of feel the same way about myself. After months of contemplation and decision-making, I won’t be unpacking these boxes when school returns in August. I won’t be returning to the classroom at all. Somewhere along the way, I seem to have lost some of that teacher magic that once sparkled so brilliantly.  But if I’ve spent so much time making this choice, why am I overcome...

Keep Reading

Never Allow Kids on Riding Lawn Mowers: One Dad’s Terrifying Warning

In: Living
Teen and young boy on riding lawn mower

As we strolled the neighborhood last night, it seemed like almost everyone was out mowing their lawns. It was one of those early summer evenings that was almost perfect—70s, calm, not too many bugs—just right for tackling some yard work.  When we got home, I noticed a friend had shared a post on Facebook that made me stop in my tracks—because I’d just seen the very thing it was warning about, and I hadn’t considered the danger.  Buddy Shoemaker, a father of three in New Hampshire, shared a sobering post about his youngest son, Grady, and the accident that nearly...

Keep Reading