So God Made a Mother is Here! 🎉

In the last few years, my life has dramatically transformed. These changes were so sudden, and also so unplanned. I am a Christian woman so I appreciate the unplanned, the unexpected, but yet exhilarating surprises that come up in God’s plan. Of course, when changes happen, sometimes we don’t understand them and we become frustrated with the cards we have been dealt. However, we learn the reasons why through the outcomes we receive. For me, these unplanned gifts were a beautiful newborn baby, a marriage to his father, and the identity of being a mother. You are probably reading this, and think this is another letter from one loving wife to another, one tired-worn-out mother to another, or some thankful woman proclaiming the gratefulness of our God. 

In some sense, that is accurate, but it is also the very reason I decided I had to break this chain of viewing life from this crystal ball I so badly wanted. Because the truth is, my crystal ball resembled more of a snow globe. On the outside, my crystal ball was smooth as glass, possibly a little chip here and there from small hands wanting to take a peek inside, but over all, imperfectly perfect. Identical to all of the others being shared, viewed, and liked. Yet, in the inside, it was a snowstorm, a very cold, blistering storm in which I felt completely alone. I often sought out others to take a look inside, to validate and confirm whether this storm was really there, or if I was like the insane weatherman who overdramatizes any flurry that comes on the radar. Some could see it and some could not, which infuriated me more and more. My hurt and unsolidified feelings evaporated into anger.

At first I begged the storm to stop. I pleaded, I cried, and I argued. The air grew colder. I blamed myself for the chilling change, so I told myself I could not criticize it. I started to wear a blanket, a hat, my mittens, anything warm to block the piercing fault the storm was throwing at me. I began to focus my strength on being a good mother. This focus grew into an overwhelming obsession of fear that my son could one day create the same storm his father did. The snow became heavier. At this point, I took on the task of trying to control and manipulate my husband. I honestly believed I could stop someone else’s storm. I started searching the house, the garage, and his vehicle for beer cans. I would pour them out when he was not home, throw them in the dumpster across the street, little by little, hoping this might soothe the bitterness of the night. I made threats, I screamed, I insisted that if he didn’t stop I was leaving. I called for outside help, but no one wanted to enter the chaos. I gave him ultimatums of us both getting help, so that we might be able to stop the storm together. Then, the conditions became unbearable. He resented me as much as I resented him. In that moment, I was hit with reality. I realized I am powerless. My life is unbearable and I need some support from a higher power.

Once in awhile, the storm will settle just enough that from the outside looking in, our crystal ball looks like, well a crystal ball. However, it’s still storming, Come close enough, sit still, lightly grasp your hands around the bottom of the glass and you can feel from the outside just how cold it really is. The storm hasn’t ended yet, but I took my first step of 12 to remove myself out of the storm and live differently. I am still not sure where and what different will look like or if the storm will also admit to its own powerlessness. What I do know is that I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t cure it. Nevertheless, I will pray and keep praying and let God handle it.

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

Guest Writer

Her View From Home wants to help share your story. If you are interested in becoming a guest writer on Her View From Home, please email us at [email protected]

I Became a Widow at 37; God’s Grace Sustained My Young Family

In: Faith, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Mom and young daughter at sunset

After my husband soared to Heaven eight years ago, my three daughters and I found ourselves on an intense grief journey. I never imagined being a widow at age 37 when my girls were just 2, 5, and 8 years old. Despite the heaviness of grief, I knew God was near. And I longed for my daughters to experience His comforting presence too. That’s how we started chasing God’s glory together. We started with a nightly rhythm of watching the sunset together. We would step out onto our back patio or pull over on the side of the road and pause...

Keep Reading

The Grace and Grief of Being a Medical Mama

In: Faith, Motherhood
Hospital bed and IV stand, black-and-white photo

Medical mama—this title and this view hit me. It hits me at different times and in different ways, but it hits me, hard.  Some days, I crumble with thankfulness that God has such a specific plan for my sweet, golden, middle daughter, that He would make ways where it feels there is no way.  There are other times when it hits me with anger and bitterness because I can’t figure out why, in a world full of medical interventions, this is our “fix.”  It hits me.  In the wee hours of another night in the hospital, it hits me that grace...

Keep Reading

I Buried My Heart with My Baby but God Brought Me Back to Life

In: Faith, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman in a sweater standing outside looking at sunset

Recently, my world felt as if it were crashing around me. I was so angry I think my rage could have burned a small village. Unfortunately, that rage was directed at God though I knew that wasn’t what I needed to be directing toward Him. He owed me nothing then, and He owes me nothing now; however, my heart was shattered, and for a while, it seemed as if my faith was crumbling with it. I stopped going to church. I stopped praying. I stopped all positive feelings and allowed myself to succumb to the pain and the anger. When...

Keep Reading

Dear New Mom, God Is Only a Whisper Away

In: Baby, Faith, Motherhood
New mother holding baby on couch, eyes closed

While we were waiting to adopt, I would wake up in the middle of the night panicky. My mind would wander to the thought of suddenly having a baby. With groggy eyes and a cobwebbed mind, I would ask myself, “Could I get up right now to go soothe a crying baby?” And then the insecurities would flood me as I thought through the difficulty of dragging myself out of bed to give milk to a fussy newborn. I didn’t know if I could.  With each application sent to agencies and social workers, the possibility of adopting a baby became more...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter, You Gave Me Purpose

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding baby, color photo

Dear daughter, Before God knit you in my womb, I was wandering around aimlessly, searching for a purpose. I had changed my mind several times about what I wanted to do with my life. I felt so much pressure to figure out what I truly wanted. I rushed into career ideas, only to realize I wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of them. I started grad school, only to quit in three weeks. I was crushed and defeated. I begged God to show me His plan, to give me a purpose. I begged Him to give me something I...

Keep Reading

God Holds Her Every Step of the Way

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding infant baby's feet, color photo

We were told she wouldn’t make it to 20 weeks. When she made it, we were told she wouldn’t survive to full-term. When she survived to full-term, we were told she wouldn’t grow properly. When she grew, she thrived. When she thrived, she confused the doctors. RELATED: Keep Fighting, Little Miracle When the doctors tried to find the science to explain away her defeating all the odds, I had the answers. God. Prayers. Miracles. At 10 weeks when I found out about her condition, I prayed. I gathered my prayer warriors, and we prayed. Ultrasound after ultrasound, the technician was...

Keep Reading

Your Marriage Can’t Sit in a Laundry Basket without Getting a Few Wrinkles

In: Faith, Marriage
Couple doing laundry in front of washing machine

Bring on the bottled scent of fresh mountain breeze and seaside lavender. I’ll happily perform the swivel dance of transferring clothes from washer to dryer. I’ll hang those darlings with delicate personalities to gently air dry. I don’t mind the doing part. I’ll do laundry ’til the cows come home. It’s the folding part that I tend to put off. The cows have come home and gone to pasture several times, and that basket of clothes is most likely still sitting there developing more wrinkles than a baby bulldog.  And don’t even get me started on ironing. Let’s just say...

Keep Reading

Overwhelmed Mama, Take a Moment to Sit at the Feet of Jesus

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman sitting in hallway, black and white image

Mama friend, I know you’re exhausted. It feels like you have nothing left to give. You know you need to take a moment for yourself, but you don’t know how. I know it all feels endless—like it will never be any different. I know you long for a week, a day, or an hour to yourself but take this moment. Put the baby in the playpen. Tell the kids to play in their room. Sit down somewhere away from the dirty dishes in the sink and the pile of laundry that has been waiting to be folded for days. Step...

Keep Reading

The Ring Came from a Stranger from Heaven

In: Faith, Living
Large ring on woman's hand, color photo

This ring is not much to look at now—a well-worn piece of turquoise costume jewelry, its cheap metal revealing its quality and insignificant cost. But the value of this ring, “The Ring,” rivals that of my diamond and gold wedding band. It is priceless. For me, it is tangible proof of how an unseen God orchestrates events, circumstances, and people to remind me that miracles do happen and that He hears me—especially when I hurt. I happened upon this precious keepsake at a time in my life when things seemed to be falling apart and when I was feeling very sorry...

Keep Reading

A Mother’s Day Kintsugi Birdhouse: Beauty from Brokenness

In: Faith, Motherhood
Broken birdhouse lying beneath tree, color photo

Seated at the sunroom breakfast table, mouth full of Special K, I glance out the row of windows. A flutter of gray-blue against white paint catches my eye. I quickly swallow. “Y’all, a bird just went inside the bluebird house!” We all stand in a row, mimicking the windows. Yes, my sleepy morning eyes did not deceive me. Tail feathers were protruding from the circular opening. At last, a bird had found its way to this little white house with a tin roof nailed to a lone holly tree in the middle of our backyard. This was not the original...

Keep Reading