A Gift for Mom! 🤍

God looked down on his creation and said, “I need someone who will bring comfort to every human being, someone who will emanate joy at all times. I need someone to befriend the humans.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone whose only purpose is to love. Someone who delights solely in people. Someone to stave off loneliness and lick up tears. I need someone with an uncanny ability to produce smiles even under the most discouraging of circumstances. Someone who will console troubled children and adults alike.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone who will make people laugh, even on their hardest days. Someone who will fill empty hearts and heal broken ones. I need someone with a keen awareness of sadness and grief, who will never be afraid to acknowledge it. Someone who will never be afraid to approach crying and broken people.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone whose wet nose will gently rouse weary souls out of bed in the morning, who will follow them to the kitchen and warm their feet as they sip coffee. I need someone who will clean crumbs off the floor and lap up spilled milk. Someone who will lick dirty dishes until they sparkle and be a calming presence when settling in for a snooze after a job well-done.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone to give humans gentle reminders throughout the day to take care of themselves. Someone who will kindly nudge them out the door for soothing walks and deep breaths of fresh air. I need someone who will help people enjoy my creation to the fullest. Someone who will provide priceless entertainment by chasing birds and belly flopping into the lake.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone to play with all the children. Someone who will never be too busy to play catch or frisbee. Someone who loves to chase balls and always has time for an ice cream cone on the back porch. I need someone who isn’t afraid to barrel into piles of crunchy leaves or make a playground out of mud holes. Someone who isn’t afraid to get messy.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone to protect the humans, someone to alert them of danger and guide them out of harm’s way. I need someone who loves people so much that he harbors no fear over the possibility of losing his life in order to save theirs. Someone who always puts human well-being above his own.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone who will be a keeper of secrets. Someone who isn’t afraid to look into the eyes of hurting people, someone who will always listen intently. I need someone who will mediate household disputes, who will listen calmly to each point of view before distracting everyone with adorable antics, making them forget all about their disagreement.”

So God gave us dogs.

He said, “I need someone who will comfort the sick and dying. Someone who will be a continuous source of friendship for those who have been forgotten. I need someone to ensure that human beings experience a peaceful farewell as they fade from one life and move into the next.”

So God gave us dogs.

He knew that humans would experience suffering and broken bonds, that their lives would be complicated and messy. He knew they would need a pure example of loyalty, and compassion. And he knew they would need someone to love them unconditionally and always welcome them home.

So God gave us dogs.

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!

Jenny Albers

Jenny Albers is a wife, mother, and writer.  She is the author of Courageously Expecting, a book that empathizes with and empowers women who are pregnant after loss. You can find Jenny on her blog, where she writes about pregnancy loss, motherhood, and faith. She never pretends to know it all, but rather seeks to encourage others with real (and not always pretty) stories of the hard, heart, and humorous parts of life. She's a work in progress, and while never all-knowing, she's (by the grace of God) always growing. You can follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

My Dad Gave Us Something Money Never Could

In: Living
Family smiling in posed photo

I was talking with my dad the other day about an upcoming Disney trip with our kids. I told him all we planned to do while we were there and how excited the kids were. He sat and listened, taking it all in. And then he said something that put a lump in my throat. “I’m so glad you’re able to give your kids the life that I couldn’t.” He went on to say he still carries some guilt–that he wishes he could have done more, taken us on trips, given us experiences he couldn’t. Hearing that broke my heart....

Keep Reading

Dear Daddy, I Wish You Could See Yourself As We Do

In: Living, Marriage
father with two young children

The side of my husband who is hardest on himself usually shows up late at night. The house is quiet, the kids are finally asleep, and the day has done what it always does—taken everything it could from both of us. That’s usually when it comes out. The voice in his head that tells him he’s not doing enough as a father. Not present enough. Not patient enough. Not good enough. He doesn’t say it lightly. He says it like someone confessing a truth he wishes wasn’t true. Like he’s already measured himself against some invisible standard of fatherhood and...

Keep Reading

Mothers and Stepmothers: Who’s on First?

In: Living
Little girl looking through fingers

The roles. The expectations. The unspoken, undefined rules. The hurt feelings no one wants to talk about. It could be a scene from an old Abbott and Costello routine: “Who’s on first?” Motherhood is rarely clear-cut. And if you’ve ever tried to navigate life alongside a stepmother—or as one—you know how quickly things can become complicated. Add a stepmother to the mix, and suddenly it’s a relay race where no one’s quite sure who’s holding the baton, or if anyone wants it. This isn’t a story about winners and losers or choosing sides. It isn’t about who is right or...

Keep Reading

Do We Really Want a ’90s Summer?

In: Living
Girl holding popsicle

The year is 2026: we’re inviting thousands of strangers to get ready with us, threatening our own deaths on a lot of different hills and, if you’re a millennial mom, determined to have a ’90s summer. Some top to-dos on the ’90s mom summer checklist? Lots of outside play, limited screens, less hustle, more simplicity. Overall, evoking the “carefree” summers of the 1990s. But did anyone ever ask the real ‘90s moms if summers back then were all we’re cracking them up to be? If my own memory serves me right, my parents talked a whole lot about summers in...

Keep Reading

To the Woman Who Was Betrayed

In: Living, Marriage
Woman looking off to the fog

He promised you a lifetime, a family, safety, and security. You carried life and brought it into this world for him. Even still, in the trenches of postpartum, he betrayed you. It was never your fault. This is something I’ve fought to tell myself every single day since the day I discovered my marriage was never meant to last. Because the truth is, betrayal is never about you; it’s about them, and the character flaws deep within they’d rather bury than face. He watched as you fought for your life after delivery while your tiny, premature newborn spent the first...

Keep Reading

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