Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

I see you.

I see you show up to church on (most) Sundays knowing that you will be sitting alone. Alone because for one reason or the other, he chooses to stay behind. I’m sure you pray for the day you walk-in together.

 I know the thought of that brings tears to your eyes. 

I want you to know that I see you.

I think you are incredibly beautiful and gracious as you sit there, alone. It is quite beautiful actually. Sometimes, I want to just walk up and hug you then tell you that I admire your strength. 

Would that be too weird? Would that offend you? Maybe I’ll just shyly smile next time you happen to look up. 

Your stoic yet timid facial expression leaves me to wonder if you’ve grown comfortable sitting alone. In the same row. In the same pew. Unless you are really late, then you are forced to sit in the back.

I see you during worship as you find it almost impossible not to glance around. I can’t help but wonder if you secretly admire the couples around you. 

Does it make you smile or does it make you sad?

Does it give you hope that one Sunday he will be sitting there beside you? Even if he doesn’t sing, even if he chooses to wear that shirt you can’t stand, even if he wants to sit in the very back row—I’m sure you would simply be grateful he was there.

Honestly, none of that matters because you still show up. You may miss a Sunday or maybe two, but never three in a row. It may sound silly to even mention that, but I know you’ll understand. 

I also see the kids.

I see you rushing up to children’s hall with them in tow. Some days they seem excited to be there. Others days I see you giving them that piercing mommy glare. Your lips tighten as if holding back the words we should not say as the little one screams for his mommy. 

It is likely that you dressed them, fed them breakfast and rushed them out the door along with their grumblings. Still, you managed to get everyone out the door in one messy piece. 

I know there are moments when you get in the car completely frazzled and irritated, questioning why you even try. 

Staying home would be the easier choice. I see that. 

Then there are those Sundays where you feel grateful for the courage it takes to go alone.

While you live out your faith. Yes, it may be late and messy some days, but you still show up. I see that too. 

So this I say to to the mom who sits alone on Sundays . . . 

I see you. 

I am you.

In the day-to-day chaos of life, it’s easy to lose sight of what (and Who) really matters. We love Faithbox—a monthly subscription to strengthen your faith and help you grow closer to God.

You may also like:

Being That Mom in the Pew

To the Mom Missing the Sermon Yet Again

A Letter to Jesus from a Tired Mama

Want more stories of love, family, and faith from the heart of every home, delivered straight to you? Sign up here! Recommendations in this post contain affiliate links. Her View From Home may receive a small commission if you choose to purchase.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Jessica Shephard

Jessica is a mom of two, wife, breast cancer survivor and a self-proclaimed creative misfit. She works from home as a marketing strategist and when the little one naps, she writes. Feeling as though she never fit into any mommy group, she claimed a little space on the internet called, Rebel Soul Mom. She writes about family, DIY, life after cancer, parenting and other messy bits of life.

Going to Church with Kids is Hard but We’ll Keep Showing Up

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding young daughter in church

Going to church is hard with young kids. It used to be something I looked forward to. It’s something I’ve always valued deeply and needed desperately. It’s the one place that will always be home regardless of what location or building it’s in or what people attend. Church is my sanctuary. But it’s become a battle with the kids’ resistance, my tired mind and body, and my lack of ability to actually listen to the sermon. Going to church is hard with young kids. It’s become normal for me to lie down in bed on Saturday night thinking, with dread,...

Keep Reading

I’m Praying for My Teenager in These Challenging Years

In: Faith, Motherhood, Teen
Teen boy holding a smartphone and wearing headphones

In my mid-40s, I began to long for a baby. We didn’t get much encouragement from friends and family. My husband is a high-functioning quadriplegic, and I was considered way too old to start a family. But our marriage was stable, we were used to obstacles, we were financially prepared, emotionally experienced, and our careers were established. I began to paint my own sublime mental portrait of parenting tranquility. What could go wrong? At 48, I delivered a healthy baby boy, and he was perfect. We adored him. The baby we had longed for and prayed for, we had. And...

Keep Reading

When Motherhood Feels Like a Limitation

In: Faith, Motherhood
Ruth Chou Simons holding book

Twenty-one years ago, my husband Troy and I welcomed our first son into the world. Two years later, I gave birth to another boy. And again two years later, and again two years after that. A fifth boy joined our family another two years later, and a final son was born 11 years after we began our parenting journey. If you were counting, you’re not mistaken—that’s six sons in just over a decade. We were overjoyed and more than a little exhausted. I remember feeling frustrated with the limitations of the little years with young children when I was a...

Keep Reading

The Day My Mother Died I Thought My Faith Did Too

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Holding older woman's hand

She left this world with an endless faith while mine became broken and shattered. She taught me to believe in God’s love and his faithfulness. But in losing her, I couldn’t feel it so I believed it to be nonexistent. I felt alone in ways like I’d never known before. I felt helpless and hopeless. I felt like He had abandoned my mother and betrayed me by taking her too soon. He didn’t feel near the brokenhearted. He felt invisible and unreal. The day my mother died I felt alone and faithless while still clinging to her belief of heaven....

Keep Reading

Jesus Meets Me in the Pew

In: Faith
Woman sitting in church pew

I entered the church sanctuary a woman with a hurting and heavy heart. Too many worries on my mind, some unkind words spoken at home, and not enough love wrapped around my shoulders were getting the best of me. What I longed to find was Jesus in a rocking chair, extending His arms to me, welcoming me into his lap, and inviting me to exhaust myself into Him. I sought out an empty pew where I could hide in anonymity, where I could read my bulletin if I didn’t feel like listening to the announcements, sing if I felt up...

Keep Reading

Can I Still Trust Jesus after Losing My Child?

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Sad woman with hands on face

Everyone knows there is a time to be born and a time to die. We expect both of those unavoidable events in our lives, but we don’t expect them to come just 1342 days apart. For my baby daughter, cancer decided that the number of her days would be so many fewer than the hopeful expectation my heart held as her mama. I had dreams that began the moment the two pink lines faintly appeared on the early morning pregnancy test. I had hopes that grew with every sneak peek provided during my many routine ultrasounds. I had formed a...

Keep Reading

5 Kids in the Bible Who Will Inspire Yours

In: Faith, Kids
Little girl reading from Bible

Gathering my kids for morning Bible study has become our family’s cornerstone, a time not just for spiritual growth but for real, hearty conversations about life, courage, and making a difference. It’s not perfect, but it’s ours. My oldest, who’s 11, is at that age where he’s just beginning to understand the weight of his actions and decisions. He’s eager, yet unsure, about his ability to influence his world. It’s a big deal for him, and frankly, for me too. I want him to know, deeply know, that his choices matter, that he can be a force for good, just...

Keep Reading

Mad Martha, Mary, Mom, and Me

In: Faith, Living
Woman wrapped in a blanket standing by water

As a brand-new, born-again, un-churched Christian fresh in my new faith with zero knowledge of the Bible, I am steaming, hissing mad when I first read these words from Luke 10:38-42: “Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Pray away My Anxiety But I Can Trust God to Hold Me through It

In: Faith, Living
Woman with flowers in field

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid. I was scared of people, of speaking, and even of being looked at. As I got older, I worried about everything. I was aware of the physical impact that stress and worry have on our bodies and our mental health, but I couldn’t break the cycle. I declined invitations and stuck with what I knew. Then we had a child who knew no fear. The person I needed to protect and nurture was vulnerable. There was danger in everything. It got worse. He grew older and more independent. He became a...

Keep Reading

Your Kids Don’t Need More Things, They Need More You

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and young girl smiling together at home

He reached for my hand and then looked up. His sweet smile and lingering gaze flooded my weary heart with much-needed peace. “Thank you for taking me to the library, Mommy! It’s like we’re on a date! I like it when it’s just the two of us.” We entered the library, hand in hand, and headed toward the LEGO table. As I began gathering books nearby, I was surprised to feel my son’s arms around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and a kiss with an “I love you, Mommy” before returning to his LEGO—three separate times. My typically...

Keep Reading