A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Every day my brothers and I stepped off the school bus, we’d run into the house where Mom greeted us at the door. In the cabinet under the oven that hung on the wall, we had our choice of snack cakes. The peanut butter wafers dipped in chocolate were my favorite. If I split them apart and licked the peanut butter off before eating the wafer, it lasted longer. I’d sit down at the table with my mom, telling her all about my day. If she got bored with the details, she didn’t let on.

We never outgrow needing our moms.

The hardest part of leaving for college was the knowledge that life back home went on without me. I’d hear about the family gatherings, but I was hundreds of miles away. All those garage sale finds my mom and her sister found without me. When Mom and Dad announced they were getting a divorce, the miles felt insurmountable. It was Mom who needed help the most, but I still needed my mom, too. Our visits during this time left us both in tears.

We never outgrow needing our moms.

RELATED: At the End of Your Life, This is What Will Matter to Your Children

He broke my heart. The worst part of it was I don’t think it meant that much to him. I had a few precious days to spend with my mom. She was tender and loving, not asking for any details. The little girl inside me knew what would help the most. A 25-year old grown woman, I leaned over in the back seat of the car we were in and laid my head in her lap.

We never outgrow needing our moms.

As we drove up to the new-to-her house in town, I whispered a prayer, “God, let them like one another.” It was the first meeting between my future husband and my mom. He was kind to her, sharing what he knew about divorce, encouraging her to let time do its work. She watched the way he cared for me and later voiced her approval. Months later, before he proposed, he asked her permission to take my hand in marriage.

We never outgrow needing our moms.

RELATED: Grown Kids Still Need a Mother’s Love

I guess you could say my first garden was a success. We had so many cucumbers I was contacting local food pantries to see which ones offered fresh-grown vegetables so they could take a few off my hands. I Googled ways to preserve zucchini. Mom had regularly kept a garden. The shelves in our basement were full of canned green beans, tomatoes, and grape juice. Growing up eating all that fresh produce, and I’d never paid any attention. When I spoke with my mom, I asked why she’d never taught me and what tips she had to offer me now? She mailed me her recipe book on canning because she hadn’t done all that work in years.

We never outgrow needing our moms.

RELATED: Everything I Need To Know About Motherhood I Learned From My Mom

Rarely a day goes by I don’t call my mom. As a mom myself now, I need all the advice I can get.

Is it common for a toddler to throw a tantrum for 10 minutes or more? How do I raise my daughter to be a giver and not just a taker? Does she want to go to church or is she doing it because I make her? When do we get past the middle school girl drama? Will I be as good a mom as you were? These are all questions that come up in our phone conversations.

We never outgrow needing our moms.

“She opens her mouth with wisdom, and loving instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness” (Proverbs 31:26-27).

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!

Traci Rhoades

Traci Rhoades is a writer and Bible teacher. She lives in the Grand Rapids, Michigan area with her family and an ever-changing number of pets. Connect with her online at tracesoffaith.com or @tracesoffaith on twitter. She is the author of "Not All Who Wander (Spiritually) Are Lost."

5 Things I’m Learning about 50

In: Living
birthday balloons

When my dad turned 80, he—and we, by default—celebrated all year. My sister made a fantastic, larger-than-life sign of him posing in front of his friend’s antique car, with beautiful calligraphy that trumpeted, “Cheers to you, celebrating 80 years of life!” The sign welcomed his closest friends and family into a private room at a steakhouse, where we toasted his 80 years—and the grandkids toasted his steady presence in their lives. The sign moved from the swanky steakhouse to the second-floor banister in my parents’ house. When you walked in, it greeted you—a feel-good conversation starter and a reminder to...

Keep Reading

I’m Constantly Waiting for the Metaphorical Axe To Fall

In: Living
Woman worried with head in lap

I knew people died. I just didn’t think it applied to us. Mortality met me in grade two with a punch to the gut when my teacher confirmed casually that, yes, everybody dies. What do you mean, everybody dies? I frantically thought, but kept my question to myself. Up until that moment, I had quietly believed my family was exempt from that fate. I thought death was a monster that only took other people and left my family alone. They say all panic has an origin story, and mine began shortly after that realization, fueled by a disconnected phone cord...

Keep Reading

The Apology You Deserve May Never Come

In: Living
Woman standing in field wearing hat

“You have to accept that you will likely never get the apology you deserve.” When my therapist said those words, I felt everything at once-anger, resentment, heartbreak. It was as if the air had been pulled straight from my lungs. Because accepting that truth meant letting go of something I had been holding onto for a long time: the hope that one day, it would all be acknowledged. My family was deeply wronged. Not in a way that can be brushed off or easily forgotten, but in a way that cut to the core. There were lies wrapped in deception,...

Keep Reading

To the Little Girl With Pink Flowers on Her Shoes and Courage in Her Heart

In: Living
Little girl in t-ball outfit

To the little girl with pink flowers on her white shoes and lacy fold-down socks, down and ready, tee ball glove in hand, teeth marks worn into the top. The Pittsburgh Pirates hat from Uncle Dave, a sign of camaraderie. A part of something bigger than herself. A too-long, locally sponsored t-shirt, tied up with a ponytail. Jean shorts and a belt. The type of ordinary only childhood can be. When ordinary is more than enough. No one can tell in this picture that you were scared. That you didn’t feel ready. That behind that tiny-toothed grin you were holding...

Keep Reading

Keep Searching for the Perfect Pair of Jeans

In: Living
Woman shopping for jeans

I don’t know about you, but finding a good pair of jeans has always felt like a process to me. These are too tight. Those are too loose. They fit my thighs but bunch at my hips. The dreaded waist gap. Too short—high waters. Too long, and suddenly you can’t find your legs. Before you know it, you’re ordering your fourth pair and eyeing a fifth. A woman on a mission. And still, as I stand there looking in the mirror at everything that doesn’t quite work, I just know there is a perfect pair out there for me. Somewhere....

Keep Reading

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