The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

Happiness. We are all seeking it. Looking for it. Buying it. But what is it? Really, how do you and I describe what happiness is? Society is telling us we need to be happy. As parents, we want to make our children happy. Our hearts are yearning to be happy. But how? As I scroll through social media, I am told by drinking this, having this, reading this, living this way, I will be happy. I see the best of the best pictures posted and compare myself and my messy double chin selfie. I flip through a magazine seeing tanned, slim, big busted, smiling women frolicking around… well they look pretty dang happy. The world tells me so. It must be true. 

Recently, I have been told by two different people they are just looking for their happiness. Yet, they hurt me in the process of their journey. Is that how it works? I wonder if they found it yet and how many more people they will use to achieve it. I see it more and more. We all want that magical feeling of happiness, we will do whatever possible to get it. IT. As though it is concrete. It is a possession to be had. Where do you find happiness? The gym, work, shopping, a relationship, booze, social media. External objects and people. The effort is on something or someone. Do you try to create this picture perfect life? Happy family, beautiful house, perfect marriage. Pinterest worthy. Is the facade stiff and hard to maintain? Is it really making you happy? Did it make me happy when I was trying to find it there, too? No. I was miserable. 

Happiness resides not in possessions, and not in gold, happiness dwells in the soul. -Democritus

I am happier today than I have ever been. My therapist calls it self-realization. I just call it, I finally stopped resisting God. I finally stopped trying to be perfect. I finally stopped showing only the good. I finally stopped. I learned to accept my flaws and weakness, to acknowledge my sins, to ask for forgiveness, and to take the steps to change. Finally, I listened to the questions in my head about who Jesus really was and I acted on them. I bought a Bible and read it. Finally, I accepted His words and teachings. I brought them into my heart and established them as a way of life. I stopped living for myself, but for God and His son Jesus. Every thing I am doing is for them. Little by little. I am making changes daily to be a better me. First, to be more like Jesus. Second, to show my children. Third, for me. And this little seed of joy is beginning to bloom. Slowly. Patiently. Emerging deep inside of me. From the depth of my soul to the smile on my face. I can feel it.

This didn’t happen overnight. Yes, something drastic happened to me which made me see life and people differently. It did force me to starting doing the way I lived differently. But don’t we all have moments and events like that in our lives? Where we are made to wake up and decide if we are going to make a change or not? We either have to decide to keep living the way we have been or finally stop resisting. 

I stopped resisting. In the beginning, I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I wanted to get away from my pain and thoughts, so I turned my attention towards others. Praying more. Calling a friend. Donating clothes. Participating in more play dates, group meetings, and prayer groups. Making friends with the other moms. Extending friendship everywhere I was. Working at the church. Sending a simple text to say hi. Buying someone coffee. Saying kind words to a stranger. Smiling. 

As time went on, I wanted to do more. I wanted to give more. I learned who Jesus really was. I finally discovered Him. Thus, I found that by being more like Jesus, I was happier. I am happier. Loving my neighbor. Extending forgiveness. Practicing patience and sacrifice. Being truthful in my sins and faults. Actively looking to better myself. Speaking kindly. 

How blessed is everyone who fears the LORD, Who walks in His ways. When you shall eat of the fruit of your hands, You will be happy and it will be well with you. -Psalm 128:1-2

Happiness is not external. It is something inside of you. It is how you live your life. It is how you love. It is how you speak. It is how you treat others. You will never be happy if you aren’t happy with yourself. I see joy in my life. I see it when I make others happy. I see it when I work to be the best person I can be. The woman God sees. Happiness is not an end result. Once you have it, it doesn’t stay. It is a constant process of growing, making mistakes, standing back up, and giving of what and who you are. Happiness is always changing. With the seasons of our life, we are always changing. 

The fact that our heart yearns for something Earth can’t supply is proof that Heaven must be our home. -C.S. Lewis

I now know, I will never have complete happiness. I now know, I will only obtain complete joy and happiness when I am in heaven with my Father. And that true joy and happiness I seek is everlasting because the source is everlasting. But I get a chance to be here on Earth to give happiness to others. I get a chance to make a difference in someone else’s life. I get a chance to suffer, love, grow, hurt, give, sacrifice. I am happy. Because I CHOOSE to be happy. I choose to live according to God and Jesus. And I am just getting started. I can’t wait to see what awaits me. I can’t wait to feel the inner joy and happiness that is in store for me. I can’t wait to share and teach it to my children. And my friends. And my family. And the world. 

This is happiness. Right here. Inside of me. 

Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the LORD. -Psalm 144:15

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!

Katie Weber

Me. My two little men. My second change. Motherhood. Depression. Divorce. Love. God. laugher. Friendship. My lovely. It's all right here.

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...

Keep Reading

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

In: Faith
Woman walking in field with hand in wheat

Hannah knew what it was like to feel forgotten. She often clutched her empty womb and thought Surely the Lord has forgotten me.  She knew the bitter sting of feeling isolated and alone. She knew the anguish of praying day after day after day and seeing no fruit, not even a bud, from her faithfulness. Hannah knew what it was like to feel like the weight of the world was on her, and her hope may have dwindled. Even those around her did not offer encouragement. Quite the opposite—they did their best to sow seeds of discouragement. Yet Hannah pressed...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

In: Faith
Woman with folded hands looking up

There have been many times over the years when I’ve heard others share stories of how the Lord spoke to them or gave them a sign. Seashells scattered along a sandy beach, numbered to represent how many children they would have. A quiet walk in the park, followed by a clear sense that another little one was coming. What a blessing, I think, when I hear and read their stories. I often wonder how much more faith they must have than I do—to know with such certainty that what they heard was truly God speaking. I listen, I smile, and...

Keep Reading

God Holds You As You Hold Everyone Else

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding toddler daughter on her hip, standing outside

She stands in the kitchen, hands trembling over the sink, tears she cannot let fall pressing behind her eyes. The world outside her window is quiet, but inside her heart there is a storm she cannot name. She is hurting, not because she does not love her life, but because somewhere along the way she forgot how to breathe inside it. Yet even in her pain, little voices call her name. Tiny hands tug at her shirt. Lunchboxes need packing, homework needs checking, hearts need holding. And so she wipes her face, forces a smile, and whispers a quiet prayer:...

Keep Reading

Yes, I Know Fear—but I Also Know Faith

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother holding child's hands in hospital bed

The night my daughter woke up screaming at 3 a.m., I knew something was wrong. Her cry wasn’t the half-asleep whimper of a bad dream. Instead, it was pain—raw and sharp. Within an hour, we were rushing to the emergency room, the world outside our headlights still wrapped in darkness. Tests, scans, questions, and then the words no parent ever wants to hear: “We’re transferring her to another hospital by ambulance. She needs surgery right away.” They said “torsion.” They said “tumor.” They said “appendix.” I nodded, because that’s what mothers do. We stay steady, even when our hearts are...

Keep Reading

10 Years after My Mother’s Death, Her Faith Still Guides Me

In: Faith, Grief
Woman praying

Growing up, I was a reluctant Catholic. My mother would drag us to church, and I’d go through the motions—fingers moving across rosary beads without really feeling the prayers. But she never stopped. Sunday Mass, daily prayers, devotions to the Blessed Mother. She was relentless in her faith, not because she was trying to force it on us, but because she genuinely believed we would need it someday. She was right. My mother died of stage 4 colon cancer in 2012. My brother and I watched her suffer, saw how her body betrayed her, watched as treatments failed. And here’s...

Keep Reading

Finding God in the Middle of Disbelief: A Mom’s Journey through Faith and Fear

In: Faith
Mother holding hand of young child, silhouette

“But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior; so my persecutors will stumble and not triumph over me.” – Jeremiah 20:11 God, thank You for making sure my son is okay. Thank You for this just being paranoia. I believe in You. I believe in Your control. I believe. I believe. I believe. These words streamed through my head as my husband drove us downtown to visit our first specialist with our 4-month-old son, Maximus. Our pediatrician had written me off, but I could not ignore the feeling in my bones that something was wrong. Tiny, hard bumps...

Keep Reading

In Praise of Indebtedness: How Threads of Reciprocity Weave Us Together

In: Faith, Living
Woman holding casserole

It all started with tomatoes. After we moved, a neighbor invited us to pick from the abundance in her and her husband’s gardens. In return for a pile of tomatoes gathered from their raised beds, I left a plastic bag of homegrown pumpkins on their porch. Later that summer, our neighbor stopped by with a recycled container full of still more fruits. By the fall, we were sharing chili and cookies over dinner at our place. Threads of indebtedness were weaving us together. For most of my life, the idea of indebtedness has tasted rather repulsive on my tongue. The...

Keep Reading