So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

If I had a degree in psychology, I could be a good mommy.

I would get why you sometimes cry from the time you wake up to when I turn out the light and close the door. I’d know why you melt on the floor like a puddle or stiffen like a board. I might figure out the reason some days you stare into a far-off land I can’t find my way into. I’d understand when you can’t concentrate one day and then on another your intuition is sharp as a tack. On days like today when you gallop like a colt wild and out of control, I’d call it by a long name as if it were a familiar language rolling off my tongue. If I were a psychologist.

If only I’d become a doctor, I could be a good mommy.

When your cheeks flame red, your eyes look dull and you grow listless, I’d know what to do. If I were a doctor maybe I wouldn’t share the bucket with you when you get sick. Maybe, I could bandage a finger and wash off the blood without growing weak, and maybe my worry would not take me to the worst every time I don’t know what’s wrong. If I were a doctor.

If I had a degree in education, I could be such a good mommy.

I could answer your questions about why some bugs fly and why lizards run straight up a wall. I’d explain why kittens have a liter and birds make a nest. I’d know how to explain the language of animals or the sound of a river running. I’d tell you why snowflakes have points and raindrops don’t. I’d know what to do when you say “ring,” but it sounds like “wing.” If I were a teacher, I’d be such a good mommy.

If I had a degree in science, we’d gaze at the stars and name them.

If I had a degree in biology, I’d have a smart answer for how the baby got in my tummy.

If I had a degree in accounting, I’d show you how to save those hot little coins in a sweaty palm and grow them like seeds in dirt.

If I had a degree in culinary arts, I wouldn’t open the fridge and wonder what to do.

If I had a degree in organizational management, I wouldn’t suck up LEGOs with the vacuum cleaner, the dishes wouldn’t look like Mount Etna overflowing, and the laundry piles would be neatly washed and folded away.

If I were a theologian, I’d have an explanation of why a grandpa dies and where a dog goes after he does.

Mechanics, technology, ergonomics, and dynamics. A mommy needs them all.

But if I knew all the answers, maybe I’d miss the wonder.

If I could put childhood into neat folders perhaps the splendidness of chaos would be gone. If I could put it all together by my own expertise, the marvel of the unknown might be mundane.

Maybe if I knew it all for you I wouldn’t be learning from you.

Who else could teach me the art of wilted flower picking or making mud pies? Who would teach me to hide in plain sight or put a straw in my nose?

Where could I learn snowman building or how to whisper stories in the dark? Would I know that animals smile when their eyes blink or how would I know the right way to pucker my lips when I blow on hot food?

Who could teach me to check for a dirty diaper with my finger like a dipstick or inspect just-brushed teeth?

If I had all the answers, how could I point you to the One who truly knows? What would omniscience be if I could reach it?

What if the holes in my knowledge and expertise set us both up for the most important type of training? The kind that learns to fly to Jesus for the needs of the soul, the type of learning to love what you can’t see and what you don’t fully know?

God created a unique image when he made mommies. Perhaps, dear child, what He wants to teach us most He designed for us to find in Him together.

You may also like:

God Doesn’t Ask Me To Be a Perfect Mom; He Asks Me To Point My Kids to a Perfect Savior

I Don’t Want To Raise Church Kids, I Want To Raise Jesus Kids

Sylvia Schroeder

Sylvia Schroeder serves as Women’s Care Coordinator at Avant Ministries. Mom to four, grandma to 13, and wife to her one and only love, she enjoys writing about all of them. Find her blog at When the House is Quiet. Like her Facebook page or follow her on twitter.

There’s Just Something about a 4-Year-Old

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
4 year old girl smiling outside

There’s just something about a 4-year-old. The way their bubbly laughs and sweet little faces still have some traces of babyhood while they’re transforming into more and more of their own unique person right before your eyes.  The way they ask questions about everything under the sun, listen wide-eyed to your clumsy answers, and believe every single word you say. It’s so innocent (and scary) the way they believe absolutely anything you tell them—just because you’re “mommy.”  The way their still-a-little-chubby hand finds yours. And the way they still come running to you for a hug and kiss when they’re hurt. Or...

Keep Reading

Dear Preschool Teachers, I’m Going to Miss You So Much

In: Child, Motherhood
preschool teacher sitting with kids on her lap

Dear preschool teachers, There’s just no other way to say this— I’m going to miss you so much. You are the first adults outside of our family to spend your days with my children, and watching your relationships grow and develop this year has been the most bittersweet privilege. I’m going to miss the bright smiles that light up your faces every time my kids come bounding toward you on good days, and how tenderly you hold their little hands and guide them away from me on the tough ones. RELATED: Dear Preschool Graduate, I’m So Proud of You I’m...

Keep Reading

You’re Graduating From Kindergarten and the First Part of Your Life

In: Child, Motherhood
Mother, father, and little boy in graduation gown, color photo

To my little graduate:  I’m so proud of you. I used to think graduation ceremonies at this age were just a cute, end-of-the-year celebration. Now I see how much they really represent. I watched you in amazement this year. I saw all of your hard work. Not just academically but socially and emotionally as well. You learned to make friends without me there. You learned how to make your place in the world. You have learned to deal with disappointment, stand up for yourself, and the awkwardness of not being friends with everyone. You dealt with teasing because of your...

Keep Reading

He’s Outgrowing My Lap But He’ll Never Outgrow My Heart

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood

He’s five now—my baby, the third of my three children. I feel like I’ve taken the time to enjoy each stage, but no matter how much I try to savor, it still seems to go too fast. Like grains of sand slipping through my fingers—if I try to hold on too tightly, the years just seem to escape faster. We were sitting in church this morning. He had asked to sit in church with mom and dad instead of going to children’s Sunday school. And we let him. He’s gone from a squirmy toddler to a little boy who can...

Keep Reading

Dear Son, Don’t Ever Lose Your Helping Heart

In: Child, Kids
Young boy carrying two gallons of milk, color photo

When you carried two gallons of milk on our way out the door at Aldi, I smiled. You insisted to take them from my hands. You’re growing out of your shoes and shirts, and my prayer has always been that you’ll reach your full potential as a young boy growing into a young man.  You’ve always had a drive inside you that is seen big on the soccer field, and I pray you’ll always desire to work hard and serve strong wherever you are. RELATED: Let Us Raise Boys Who Have Respect Running Through Their Veins I pray you’ll work...

Keep Reading

9 is Changing Right Before My Eyes

In: Child, Tween
Girl sitting in car holding stuffed animal, color photo

“You are officially tall enough to ride without a booster seat,” our pediatrician tells my daughter after reviewing her measurements. It was her 9-year check-up, and she’d grown three inches in a year, landing at the 96th percentile for her age. She’d likely been tall enough for months, but I insisted we wait for her doctor’s confirmation, comforted by the imminent discussion on sitting safely sans booster. My girl gleefully melts into the car’s fabric and buckles her seatbelt, flashing a smile that showcases an assortment of adult and baby teeth. Reality hits me like an airbag in the face:...

Keep Reading

Goodbye To the Preschool Years

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Mother smiling with giggling preschool daughter, color photo

For me, personally, I feel as though this is the first gut-wrenching string I’m letting go of with my little girl.  Although when she started preschool I felt nervous and I missed her like mad, I knew I still had two weekdays with her as well as the weekend. It has been perfect—freedom and growth while at preschool—but still time for us.  School is on the horizon. The year of starting school has come quicker than I was prepared for. It has literally flashed before my eyes.  I have spent every day with my girls since they were born. Every...

Keep Reading

Don’t Ever Lose Your Sparkle, My Child

In: Child, Motherhood
Smiling little girl

I wish I could freeze this time, right where we are now. Right in this moment. Nothing is more bittersweet than seeing you grow.  People say time flies, and I didn’t really know how much it did fly until I had you. Until I held you in my arms for the very first time.  Since then, I have watched a little girl grow, right before my eyes. I watched her first steps. I heard her first words. I wiped her first tears. I held her hand the very first time. She grew. She keeps on growing. I see her smile...

Keep Reading

Dear Son, Will I Know You Tomorrow?

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Smiling boy

When you were a newborn, I knew you as well as it’s possible to know another human being. I was your everything; you were mine. I knew what each cry, each smile, each grasp intended. I anticipated your spit-up, your hunger, your fatigue. You grew into infancy, and we remained nearly as intimate: your laughs, your budding motor skills, and your newfound interest in toys were my complete delight. I was there with my camera to document the first time you sat up and played with toys on your own. I knew every single food you had eaten and its...

Keep Reading

Down Syndrome Does Not Define Her

In: Child, Motherhood
Infant in hospital bed, smiling, color photo

Riley’s story starts April 23, 2019. We had opted to get the 3-month scan and NIPT test with our third pregnancy just for the extra ultrasound. The tech brought in the maternal fetal medicine doctor, and he pointed out that there was an increased nuchal translucency measurement and that it was common with different trisomies. He suggested we have the materNit21 test to see which specific trisomy we were at high risk for. We opted for it. I got the call a few days later that the baby was at high risk for trisomy 21, otherwise known as Down syndrome....

Keep Reading

5 Secrets to the

BEST Summer Ever!


Creating simple summer memories

with your kids that will  last a lifetime