Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

My son approached me with a mumbling voice and red rimmed eyes. The next day was his 7th birthday, the one he shares with his older twin brother. The day had worn him down, his wavy blonde hair had begun to curl around his ears and he was rubbing his tired eyes.

“Mommy, will you come and sing that song, the one you sing when we’re sick?”

From the first moment I saw my sons, there in incubators with respirators, I vowed they would know my voice. When I could reach into their warm and humid little isolettes and feel their breath as they inhaled and exhaled, I wanted them to know that I was right there too. Before their eyes could focus on me, before their ears would develop their shape, they would know me, my voice, my song.

So, the day after the c-section, I walked into the NICU that was now their home indefinitely, I stuck out my chin and was the new determined mommy who was going to be the best.

My mind was blank, I didn’t know what song to sing. What song would define me and what I felt for my children, my small tiny little men that were fighting for their lives? Fleeting variations of hymns floated through my mind, but the words seemed to escape me, and the words to me, being a writer, were essential. They had to mean what my heart was needing to convey to them as I sang it to them.

Then an image came to my mind from my own history, it was a cheesy watch that I used to have with sunflowers on the dial. I could push a little button on the side and it would play a song, a song that was perfect.

I started humming, sweet and low, and the words came back to me easily.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away.”

When this last phrase crossed my lips, it was a plea to God and no one else. I begged him as I sang and tears streamed down my face. “Please don’t take my sunshines away.”

Now my son Wesley was helping me remember those days, my machine days as my mother termed them, but in a good way. I lifted Wes, who is over 4 feet tall and 57 pounds, and he encompassed me in a bear hug. I couldn’t imagine the smile I had on my face when my husband watched as I swayed slowly and sang quietly to my sleepy son. After singing it twice, I put him down to stand on his own, and promised to sing to him again when he was tucked in to bed.

It was a song that I sang to them when they were sick, when they were scared and uncertain. I dreamed that they would sing it to their kids, knowing how it affected them when they were feeling sad. And while he wasn’t sick right now, knowing that he loved that song made their birthday just a little easier for me this year.

So, when he was laying in his top bunk bed I sang it one more time, pressing my cheek to his little forehead, feeling him breathe deeper and relax peacefully.

While Gabriel during this whole time, didn’t request the song, I always sang it to him in those uncertain times too. So, as I tucked the blankets around his little freckled face, I asked if he wanted the song too. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know.” So I asked if it would be okay if I did, and he nodded, almost tearing up the eyes he shares with his daddy. I sang it to him then and was amazed as I could literally see it affect his eyelids that started to sink, his head to loll to the side in peace.

You make me happy when skies are grey,” I brushed the straight red hair from his forehead, marveling at the soft and beautiful color of my son. “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you,” his eyes closed.

So please don’t take my sunshine away.”

And while I finished the song with a kiss goodnight, I was still begging God to leave them here with me, for my enjoyment, my pleasure, my sunshines in the darkest of times and in the dire times. It took a sleepy request from the miracle men in my life to remember that I need them more than I ever thought possible. The song I sang reminds them that I am always going to be there to calm their fears and make them feel better, long after I’m gone.

I want a lullaby faith.


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

Erin Pearson

Hailing from Nebraska, E.L. Pearson is a graduate of the University of Nebraska-Kearney where she honed her writing talents and fed her desire for enchantment through studying classic literature. Her one-of-a-kind writing style reflects this love in her upcoming Prodigal Lost series. Fascinated by her childhood church, her unique perspective was forever changed when she attended a teen revival and accepted Christ as her Savior. Her mission is to encourage and uplift those in perpetual darkness. She seeks out those who feel God couldn’t possibly love them because of what they’ve done in the past. She desires but one thing-to let the world know that no matter the sin, no matter the stain from the past, Jesus is the cleansing power. As her relationship with God has grown, so have her blessings which include a patient husband who is kind and strong, and twin sons who remind her just how much God loves her. Together, they do life together in Kearney Nebraska.

God Had Different Plans

In: Faith, Motherhood
Silhouette of family swinging child between two parents

As I sip my twice-reheated coffee holding one baby and watching another run laps around the messy living room, I catch bits and pieces of the Good Morning America news broadcast. My mind drifts off for a second to the dreams I once had of being the one on the screen. Live from New York City with hair and makeup fixed before 6 a.m. I really believed that would be me. I just knew I’d be the one telling the mama with unwashed hair and tired eyes about the world events that happened overnight while she rocked babies and pumped milk....

Keep Reading

This Will Not Last Forever

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman looking at sunset

“This will not last forever,” I wrote those words on the unfinished walls above my daughter’s changing table. For some reason, it got very tiring to change her diapers. Nearly three years later, the words are still there though the changing table no longer is under them. While my house is still unfinished so I occasionally see those words, that stage of changing diapers for her has moved on. She did grow up, and I got a break. Now I do it for her baby brother. I have been reminding myself of the seasons of life again. Everything comes and...

Keep Reading

God Calls Me Flawless

In: Faith, Living
Note hanging on door, color photo

When I look in the mirror, I don’t always like what I see. I tend to focus on every imperfection, every flaw. As I age, more wrinkles naturally appear. And I’ve never been high maintenance, so the gray hairs are becoming more frequent, too. Growing up a lot of negative words were spoken about me: my body, my weight, my hair, my build. Words I’ve somehow carried my whole life. The people who proclaimed them as my truth don’t even remember what they said, I’m sure. But that’s the power of negative words. Sticks and stones may break our bones,...

Keep Reading

Your Husband Needs Friendship Too

In: Faith, Friendship, Marriage
3 men smiling outside

As the clock inches closer to 7:00 on a Monday evening, I pull out whatever dessert I had prepared that week and set it out on the kitchen counter. This particular week it’s a trifle, but other weeks it may be brownies, pound cake, or cookies of some kind. My eyes do one last sweep to make sure there isn’t a tripping hazard disguised as a dog toy on the floor and that the leftover dinner is put away. Then, my kids and I make ourselves scarce. Sometimes that involves library runs or gym visits, but it mostly looks like...

Keep Reading

This Is Why Moms Ask for Experience Gifts

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Mother and young daughter under Christmas lights wearing red sweaters

When a mama asks for experience gifts for her kids for Christmas, please don’t take it as she’s ungrateful or a Scrooge. She appreciates the love her children get, she really does. But she’s tired. She’s tired of the endless number of toys that sit in the bottom of a toy bin and never see the light of day. She’s tired of tripping over the hundreds of LEGOs and reminding her son to pick them up so the baby doesn’t find them and choke. She’s tired of having four Elsa dolls (we have baby Elsa, Barbie Elsa, a mini Elsa,...

Keep Reading

When You Just Don’t Feel Like Christmas

In: Faith, Living
Woman sad looking out a winter window

It’s hard to admit, but some years I have to force myself to decorate for Christmas. Some years the lights look a little dimmer. The garlands feel a bit heavier. And the circumstances of life just aren’t wrapped in a big red bow like I so wish they were. Then comparison creeps in like a fake Facebook friend and I just feel like hiding under the covers and skipping it all. Because I know there’s no way to measure up to the perfect life “out there.” And it all just feels heavier than it used to. Though I feel alone,...

Keep Reading

When Your Kids Ask, “Where Is God?”

In: Faith, Kids
Child looking at sunset

How do I know if the voice I’m hearing is God’s voice? When I was in high school, I found myself asking this question. My dad was a pastor, and I was feeling called to ministry. I didn’t know if I was just hearing my dad’s wish or the call of God. I was worried I was confusing the two. It turns out, I did know. I knew because I was raised to recognize the presence of God all around me. Once I knew what God’s presence felt like, I also knew what God’s voice sounded like. There is a...

Keep Reading

To the Woman Longing to Become a Mother

In: Faith, Grief, Motherhood
Woman looking at pregnancy test with hand on her head and sad expression

To the woman who is struggling with infertility. To the woman who is staring at another pregnancy test with your flashlight or holding it up in the light, praying so hard that there will be even the faintest line. To the woman whose period showed up right on time. To the woman who is just ready to quit. I don’t know the details of your story. I don’t know what doctors have told you. I don’t know how long you have been trying. I don’t know how many tears you have shed. I don’t know if you have lost a...

Keep Reading

I Was There to Walk My Mother to Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Hand holding older woman's hand

I prayed to see my momma die. Please don’t click away yet or judge me harshly after five seconds. I prayed to see, to experience, to be in the room, to be a part of every last millisecond of my momma’s final days, final hours, and final moments here on Earth. You see, as a wife of a military man, I have always lived away from my family. I have missed many birthdays, celebrations, dinners, and important things. But my heart couldn’t miss this important moment. I live 12 hours away from the room in the house where my momma...

Keep Reading

God Sent Me to You

In: Faith, Motherhood
Newborn gazing at mother with father smiling down

I was a little unsure As I left God’s warm embrace: What will it be like? What challenges will I face? There were so many questions Running through my mind. I asked around for the answers I was hoping to find. Who will hold me And cuddle me tight? Who will rock me To sleep at night? RELATED: The Newborn Nights Feel As Endless As My Love For You Who will comfort me When I’ve had a rough day? Who will be there To take my worries away? Who will nourish me And make sure I grow? Who will read...

Keep Reading