Pre-Order So God Made a Mother

Hey, friend. Do you have a minute to chat? Do you mind if I ask you a question?

Has depression swallowed you alive? You smile on the outside, but feel dead on the inside? Life, and everything in it, has lost its meaning?

It’s OK to not be OK, but it’s not OK to stay there.

Is anxiety running the show lately? You can’t sleep because you can’t stop worrying? You know your concerns aren’t logical, but that doesn’t stop them from consuming your every waking moment?

It’s OK to not be OK, but it’s not OK to stay there.

Are you staggering from loss? Your job, your health, or someone you loved very much has been ripped from your hands? Has your heart been shredded into so many pieces, that you can no longer function? No longer live?

It’s OK to not be OK, but it’s not OK to stay there.

These situations make you feel helpless, hopeless. And it’s tempting to believe the lie that this is your life now, torn up into pieces and thrown in the gutter. But the problem with believing lies, is that your belief gives them life.

Because if you believe that nothing and no one can help you get your anxiety under control, you won’t seek help. What’s the point, right? And if you allow loss to permanently paralyze you, you’ll never be able to walk into the future. And your lack of action will help to ensure that you don’t ever leave that place.

But taking action is easier said than done, isn’t it? When you’re already feeling overwhelmed by life, who wants to add another box to check? Who wants to squeeze in a doctor’s visit or counseling session or weekly support group? You may fear that talking about your anxiety with a professional will only increase your anxiety, that going to another doctor, a different specialist, may result in the diagnosis you were most dreading.

But I’m telling you this: this addition to your schedule is the most important thing right now. Because until something changes, nothing changes. Depression and anxiety don’t normally disappear on their own. And grief can hold onto you for years, haunting you with what ifs and whys until it’s taken not only the future you hoped for, but any future at all.

It’s OK to not be OK, but it’s not OK to stay there.

We cannot expect things to change without doing something differently. We must take that first step, even if it’s the smallest budge, even if all you can do is crawl. It’s not your pace that matters, it’s the direction you’re moving.

Start with your primary care doctor, or a counselor, and allow them to suggest your next step. If that feels too overwhelming, start by sharing with a friend, asking them for support and encouragement to help you take action.

It hurts, I know. Your pain already hurts and talking about it, bringing it to the surface, usually deepens it at first. It’s like you’re breaking open your wounds all over again. 

But you have to get it out. And until you do, it will continue to torment you and call all of your shots. And you deserve better than that. You deserve to call your own shots, to determine your own future.

You may not be able to change the past, but you can certainly change your future. And you can start doing it today. 

This is not how your story ends. It’s not over yet. But in order to leave this place, you have to start walking.

Because it’s OK to not be OK, but it’s not OK to stay there.

You may also like:

I Take This Little White Pill

To the New Mom Hiding Her Anxiety: You Don’t Have to Circle “A”

My Anxiety Makes Me Feel Like I Fail Over and Over Again

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 for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Deb Preston

Deb Preston is an author, editor, amateur gardener, and professional cheese lover. Originally from Iowa, she now lives just outside of San Antonio, Texas with her husband, daughter, and unnecessarily loud beagle. You can find her writing on her website (,, or in any of her books. You can also connect with her on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest.

There’s No Such Thing As a Good or Bad Body

In: Living, Motherhood
Little girl sticking her tongue out with her brother and parents, color photo

Maybe it was the ’80s or just my situation, but growing up, I noticed a lot of body talk among adults. Mostly by the women, but sometimes by the men.  My gorgeous grandma always dressed up and was always on a diet. I remember a babysitter who was supermodel gorgeous not eating this or that because she didn’t want to get “fat.” Once, during my freshman year of college, my grandpa commented that I “had gained some weight.” As an adult, a compliment I often heard if my weight fluctuated slightly was, “You look great, you’re so thin.”  Or the...

Keep Reading

“Do You Still Want the China?”

In: Grief, Living
Grandmother and young granddaughter

My grandmother sits in the same plush chair that my grandfather sat in before he passed. The red reclining chair, next to the old brick fireplace where an oversized picture of our extended family smiles down from the mantel above.  Recessed lighting illuminates her freshly washed white hair, a startling contrast to the dark brown perm of her past. In lieu of her signature sapphire blouse, she wears a striped blue bathrobe, the hem settling around her calves and accentuating her swollen legs.  She clasps her hands together and closes her weary eyes. I wonder if she is ready to...

Keep Reading

Winter Can be Lonely; Please Check In On Your Friends

In: Friendship, Living
Winter street

Winter can be hard for a mom.  In the summer months, she often sends her kids outside, the warm sun beaming down and the windows wedged open as she listens to everyone run around the backyard.  She cherishes the opportunity to gather everybody for walks in the springtime, bright tulips peeking through, whenever the weather is nice.  Autumn offers respite with its crisp leaves and bearable temperatures.  But winter? Sometimes winter is hard. RELATED: The Lonely I’m Hiding Is Heavy Though beautiful, winter can feel like a ceaseless parade of dark nights. Winter can feel like isolation.  Winter can feel...

Keep Reading

Wear the Pretty Underwear

In: Faith, Grief, Living, Loss
Woman in evening gown, color photo

This week was monumental.  After 15 years, I finally finished a bottle of Victoria’s Secret perfume. I just wish I would have emptied it sooner.  It was one of those special occasion luxuries because it was not cheap. For years, I had saved this decadent perfume for date nights and holidays. It was too fancy for everyday use. And then, I was widowed without warning. My husband was here one minute, then gone the next. Impossible. Unfair. Traumatic. RELATED: What If Tonight Was Your Last Chance To Have Sex With Your Husband? But we were going to die in our...

Keep Reading

Some People Will Misjudge You; Let Them

In: Friendship, Living
Woman on beach with arms up

Have you ever seen a simple phrase but felt like it was impossible?  “Let them . . .” This is a phrase I’ve seen in many places. It doesn’t matter where it is found, overall it means the same thing. If you’re like me, then you struggle with it. It’s an everyday battle. Heck, it’s an hourly battle sometimes. You can say over and over that it doesn’t matter. Their thoughts don’t matter. Their opinions don’t matter. Their get-togethers don’t matter. Their talking behind your back doesn’t matter. Their choices don’t matter. It doesn’t matter what the case is—it is...

Keep Reading

Loving Mom (Thanks, Amazon)

In: Grief, Living, Motherhood
Woman and mother smiling, color photo

I was online, searching old Amazon orders for a part we’d bought for our 1998 Buick Regal. The car was Mom’s. She’d given it up at 86 after I said her grandsons would be grateful to use it. She’d laughed with delight as Gabe, newly licensed, pulled away from her place in her Buick, heading home to California. It was a good car, but the original parts were wearing out. That’s why I scrolled through my orders, to see which window pulley assembly we’d purchased last time. As I scrolled, I was struck by all the gifts I’d ordered for...

Keep Reading

Donna Kelce Is Living the Boy Mom Dream: Her Two Sons Will Face Off in the NFL’s Biggest Game

In: Living, Motherhood
Donna Kelce in split Philadelphia Eagles and Kansas City Chiefs jersey

How many millions of brothers have grown up playing football against each other in their backyards? It’s impossible to know, really—but if you had brothers or are raising boys, you’ve probably seen a few of those pick-up games yourself.  Sometimes, the little boys tossing around the pigskin grow up to realize the dream of playing in the NFL. In Donna Kelce’s case, that dream became a reality times two: son Jason Kelce plays center for the Philadelphia Eagles, and son Travis Kelce is a tight end for the Kansas City Chiefs. And in two weeks time, those two teams—and Donna’s...

Keep Reading

You’re the Kind of Teacher Who Brings Out the Best in My Child

In: Living, Motherhood
Teacher with student high fiving

Dear Mrs. Izzy, I was a teacher, and I know how challenging busy little boys can be. The energy, the questions, the silliness . . . THE ENERGY. Sometimes they call it “gifted and talented,” sometimes “enriched.” When I taught middle school, it was called “Advanced Social Studies.” Whatever they were calling it, I knew one thing . . . this teacher was not interested in leading it.  People often think these types of classes would be easier on a teacher because the students are so excited about learning. I know the planning, patience, and persistence it takes to lead...

Keep Reading

Volunteer More—You Won’t Regret It

In: Living
Volunteers in kitchen smiling

I love volunteering. I have made amazing friendships and learned so much by volunteering. I volunteer in my community, I have volunteered to coach on occasion, and I volunteer in my church. I do it because it makes me feel good about helping others and bringing events to our small corner of the world. My personality has been made and molded to help others.  While volunteering, I have learned how to best set up a serving line that maximizes efficiency. I have learned how amazing and funny the kids in our community are. I have learned planning and organizing skills that have...

Keep Reading

To the Teacher Who Let Me Dance: Thank You

In: Living
Feet of a young dancer on darkened stage

If you would have driven through my neighborhood in 2008, you would have seen a strange and humorous sight: a 12-year-old girl dancing outside her garage, blonde ponytail flying.  You would have seen the long, bright orange extension cord hooked up to a silver boombox and the concentration on my face as I practiced the moves from class. I’ve never been a confident or carefree person, but as I danced, you would have seen a girl who was free and fearless.  But what you wouldn’t have seen was the teacher who made it all possible.  It was the great recession...

Keep Reading