A Gift for Mom! 🤍

There are years that strip you bare.

This has been one of them.

I think it was Glennon Doyle who said going through a crisis is like putting your life through a sifter. All the things you once thought were so important fall to the floor, and what you’re left with is the stuff that really mattered all along.

The thing about the sifting is that it feels like it comes out of nowhere.

You’re going through the motions of life as usual, until all of a sudden, you’re not.

You lose your footing. Up and down don’t make any sense anymore. Nothing is the way it’s supposed to be.

When you’re in the deep-down parts of the sifting, you look back and realize how off your perspective has been.

You see, when you’re staring up at the world you’ve built around you, it all looks so big.

But when everything you know comes crashing down, you see how small so much of it really ishow it only looked big because it was stacked on top of piles of other small things.

When you get the diagnosis. When the relationship falls completely apart. When mental illness becomes a real thing, not just something you hear about. When the company downsizes. When that person who was supposed to be there, isn’t.

When life like you knew it ceases to exist, you find yourself searching the rubble for real thingsfrantically reaching out a hand for something solid to steady yourself.

Suddenly, social media seems more vain than it did before.

Portraying a picture-perfect life to people you barely know seems petty.

Comparison seems like a waste of effort and a recipe for disappointment.

Making sure your kids have the perfect first-day-of-school photo and the cutest Thanksgiving outfit seems trite.

When everything falls apart, you regret all the little things you let become big things, and you realize the extraordinary amount of time you’ve wasted on things that will never matter.

Hindsight truly does become 20/20.

And as you dig your way out, you can look back with lessons learned. And if you’re lucky, maybe you also take with you a strength or a purpose or a faith you didn’t even know you had inside of you.

But in the middle, I think we all just want to know it’s going to be OK. That we’re going to be OK, and the people we love the most are going to be OK, too.

Society tells us if our marriage doesn’t look like Chip and Joanna, and our house isn’t the perfect balance of farmhouse and contemporary, and our kids don’t have something monogrammed to wear for the holidays, and we don’t get the perfect fall family photos with the sun beaming through the leaves at just the right angle, and we’re not in tip-top shape and eating clean every meal, and we’re not climbing the right ladder at the right pace–then there must be something wrong with us.

But the thing is, no one has it all.

Some people have the job. Some people have the marriage. Some people will never have the kids. Some people would literally kill for the health.

And I bet, if you spend enough time on this earth, you might find yourself sifting through broken pieces looking for anything that resembles the thing you once knew.

I’ve often wondered why some recipes call for you to sift flour. Turns out, the process of sifting prevents lumps that would otherwise weigh the batter down.

I’m coming out of a sifting, and maybe you are, too. And though it hurt like hell, sure enough, it removed some things that had been weighing me down for a long time.

When you find yourself being sifted, remember: sometimes it takes the worst things to wake us up to the best things.

So, just take the next breath. Make the next decision. Keep going even on the days every single thing within you is begging you to stop. Don’t listen.

And after the sifting is over, take a look at what’s left inside yourself. Because that stuff? That newly sifted, raw, and fully awake stuff?

That’s the stuff you were made for.

Originally published on the author’s blog

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.

Why I Had My Benign Breast Lumps Removed

In: Living
Doctor examines mammogram images

My journey with monitoring benign breast lumps began in July of 2020 when my OB-GYN found a lump. I was sent home with an ultrasound referral. I called immediately after I got home and asked for the soonest appointment at any location. I had a young son, and was absolutely terrified. They got me in at the end of the week. My husband was on vacation that week, and what should have been an enjoyable family time was plagued with worry. At the ultrasound appointment, they saw two small lumps. I was told these were “likely benign” and was given...

Keep Reading

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

In: Grief, Living
Black and white photo of older man in garden

I was never meant to be a plant person. I’m the woman who can kill a succulent on the way home from the store. Once, a fern sighed in my direction and gave up. That is my spiritual gift. My grandpa Dominic would have laughed—hard. He loved to laugh. And sing hymns passionately in Italian. He was an Italian immigrant who lost his arm working in a mill, and still, he woke up every morning and dressed like dignity itself. He shopped for my grandma. He fixed what was broken. And he tended the biggest, happiest garden you’ve ever seen....

Keep Reading

Farewell To the Bus Stop Moms

In: Friendship
Four women pose in residential street

It seems like just yesterday I was writing a piece about my last baby going off to kindergarten. I poured my heart out into words about how she was going to find her place in the world, and how I was going to find a new sense of belonging. I wrote, “I was able to find a bit of ‘me’ again. She has barely left my side in almost six years, so her absence is still fresh and foreign. But I know her jubilant little self will be just fine. And just like that, she’s on her way. And so...

Keep Reading

May is Maternal Mental Health Month, and So Many Moms Are Quietly Drowning

In: Living
Mother with baby strapped to chest

I’ve given birth to four beautiful boys and lived through four postpartum experiences. Each one has been different, yet there are familiar threads that run through them all. In the first couple of weeks after my first baby was born, I felt carefree…until that bubble was popped. My newborn got sick and was admitted to the PICU at a children’s hospital 30 minutes from our home. At one point, doctors mentioned the possibility of meningitis, but after many tests and a several-day admission, we were sent home. When we were discharged, a doctor left me with these words, “It’s your...

Keep Reading

The Hard Truth about Friendship in Your 40s

In: Friendship
Two people fishing on a dock

No one can really prepare you for how much friendships change in your 40s. We expect life shifts—kids grow, schedules fill, jobs demand more, and aging parents need us in new ways. Time becomes tighter, priorities change, and naturally, friendships have to adjust. That part makes sense, right? But what doesn’t get talked about enough is the quiet, hard shift, the one where it’s not just time or distance creating friendship gaps, but something deeper. What happens when you look around your “table” and realize it no longer feels like a safe place to land? What happens when you start...

Keep Reading

Sisterhood is So Special

In: Living
Vintage photo of sisters in pajamas

There’s something about sisterhood that’s so special. It’s having someone who’s seen every version of you—every awkward, messy, beautiful version—and loves you through it. Someone who holds a piece of your heart in a way nobody else can. Someone who remembers the little things that made you…you. And my sister? She’s that person for me. We couldn’t be more different. She’s extroverted, the life of the party, spontaneous, the more the merrier, always seeing the good in everything. I’m the cautious one, the loner, the guarded one, more comfortable sitting on the sidelines. I’ve always admired her and secretly wished...

Keep Reading

No One Plans to Wear the “Scarlet Letter” of Divorce

In: Living, Marriage
Couple with backs to each other

Divorce often feels like the scarlet letter no one talks about. Some in our generation may call it “trendy”—particularly as women have become more independent and empowered—but whether it’s socially acceptable or not, it is still a label no woman enters marriage expecting to wear. Women are often self-sacrificing—sometimes to a fault. We give and give until our souls feel nearly drained. And in marriages marked by abuse, substance abuse, infidelity, inconsistency, or dishonesty, we still convince ourselves that if we just give a little more, love a little harder, try a little longer, something will change. Divorce is not...

Keep Reading

Hannah Harper Is Every Mom with Babies in Her Arms and a Dream In Her Heart

In: Living, Motherhood
Hannah Harper American Idol winner sings with her young son on her lap

By now, you’ve probably seen the posts flooding your feed: A young mom. Three little boys. A guitar strap embroidered with her children’s drawings. And a crown. When Hannah Harper won American Idol this week, moms everywhere erupted. And honestly? Same. There is something collective about watching a stay-at-home mom win on such a large stage. The celebrations have been pouring in. Moms, we can do it. She didn’t abandon her dreams. She went for it. And all of that is true, and all of that is worth celebrating. But I want to add something to the celebration. Not to...

Keep Reading

To Those Who Dreamed of Something Different on Mother’s Day

In: Living
Little girl in vintage photo dancing

Mother’s Day is one of the hardest days of the year for me. The truth is, I always wanted to be a mom. I’m not a mother. Not in the traditional sense. And while I usually stay quiet on days like this, today I want to speak for the ones who carry this ache quietly…without cards, without flowers, without answers. In college, I was the girl with pillows under her shirt, daydreaming about baby names and planning a future I never got to hold. I once bought a house and made a nursery for children who never came. I remember...

Keep Reading

In Your 30s the Stakes Feel Higher

In: Living
Woman wading in shallow pond with rocks

I’m in the years where I’m not old, but I’m no longer young. Some women my age are just announcing their first pregnancies, while others like me are navigating pre-teen and teenage years. The 30s hold a different kind of tension. The days move faster now. Not because little feet are toddling through the house, but because the calendar is always full. Afternoons are spent running kids to practices, sitting in parking lots, and juggling dinner between drop-offs and pick-ups. The conversations are deeper. The questions are bigger. The stakes feel higher. This season isn’t about sticky fingers and sleepless...

Keep Reading