Maybe because Mother’s Day wasn’t too long ago, I was reflection on growing up, and what that day looked like as we celebrated it. My dad gave generously of his time and money to make Mother’s Day special for my mom. We would cook, create homemade gifts, and make cards—guided (or let’s be honest… lovingly bossed around) by my older sister. Those celebrations could have gone down in the record books.

Fast forward to Mother’s Day 1993.
It was coming fast, and I was so excited—it was my very first Mother’s Day as a mom.

I had visions of being doted on, showered with love. My expectations were high… really high.

And then the day came and went… without even a glance in my direction.

I was hurt. I was mad. And my thoughts? Let’s just say they included a few very colorful adjectives describing my husband.

Year after year, Mother’s Day came and went. I never got the kind of celebration you see in the movies. My husband just didn’t have that in him and let’s face it most of the time nothing is like the movies.

But what I received instead—as my children grew—was something even better.

I would hear whispers and giggles from the kitchen while my daughter “guided” (yes… bossed) her brother around as they prepared breakfast so I could “sleep in.” Eventually, they would come in, proudly carrying a tray with breakfast in bed, a handmade card, and a little gift.

Those breakfasts evolved over time.

They started with cold cereal…
Graduated to eggs with a few crunchy shell surprises (extra protein, right?)…
And eventually turned into picture-perfect breakfasts that looked like they came straight out of a magazine.

But if I’m honest?

I miss the eggshells.

Because perfection—or something close to it—is overrated.

We can lose ourselves chasing it. We trade our joy for something we’ll never quite reach.

Those imperfect, messy, love-filled moments?
Those are the ones that stay with us.

Those are the ones that matter.

Looking back, I cherish those memories deeply—but I’ve also learned from them.

I can choose to give of myself, not for perfection and not expecting anything in return, but simply out of love.

To serve others the way Jesus did.

“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
— Mark 10:45

Mother’s Day can be hard for many.

Some no longer have their moms.
Some have relationships that are complicated or painful.
Some long to be mothers.

Whatever your story, this day doesn’t have to look one certain way.

We can choose to celebrate the women who love us, support us, and enrich our lives—in all the imperfect, beautiful ways they show up.

Because in the end…
it was never about perfection.

It was always about love.

My grandson who loved to give hugs even at the big age of five decided to give my daughter the cold shoulder as she dropped him off at kindergarten. He woke up feeling a bit grumpy and not wanting to cooperate with her. This only left one option and that was a good talking to about behaving differently or consequences were going to happen.

As to be expected this did not go over well. So, as she dropped him off, she bent down and asked for a hug. He then said in a very loud voice “no” and walked to get in line. All the other kids in his class witnessed this. They got out of line and piled on top of my daughter trying to give her hugs.

She told me this out of concern for the “stranger danger” aspect and I totally understand that, but what I took from it got me thinking.

Those little children heard that she needed a hug. They saw she bent down in hopes of getting one and then they heard the “no” and watched her son walk away. They could have just turned and walked into the classroom with some just feeling bad for her.

They didn’t just feel bad; they took action and gave her what they could. They gave her what they heard and saw that she needed.

Why is it that when we grow up, we tend to only see the “stranger danger” and not the need? Because of the fear of the stranger, the need is not met. I understand we need to be wise, but how many times—myself included—do we let our fear get in the way of encouraging others?

Children often respond with pure compassion. They are not overthinking motives, worrying about how they will look, or wondering if their kindness will be misunderstood. They simply see someone who needs comfort and they give it.

Somewhere along the way, adulthood teaches us to hold back. We hesitate to offer the kind word, the hug, the smile, or the encouragement because we are unsure how it will be received. Yet scripture reminds us again and again that our words and actions have the power to lift someone who may be carrying more than we realize.

Proverbs 12:25 reminds us,
“Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad.”

A simple act of kindness can lighten a heavy heart. It doesn’t have to be big or dramatic. Sometimes it is just noticing someone and offering a moment of encouragement.

Ephesians 4:1–3 calls us to live with humility, gentleness, patience, and love toward one another. When we choose to respond to others with compassion instead of suspicion, we help create the kind of unity and peace that these verses describe.

And 1 Thessalonians 5:11 gives us a very clear instruction:
“Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.”

Encouragement is not meant to be rare. It is meant to be part of our everyday lives.

Maybe we can learn something from those kindergarten children. Maybe the world would feel a little lighter if we were quicker to notice the needs around us and brave enough to respond with kindness.

We may not always know the perfect thing to say or do, but we can always offer encouragement, a smile, a kind word, or a moment of compassion.

Sometimes the smallest acts of love are the very things someone needed most.

I’m not really a Star Wars fan, and I know I probably lost some followers by saying that, but it never has been my kind of movie. I watched the original first three and yes even the new ones. I can see a lot of lessons to be learned from them as well, but I am not one of those that watch them over and over. I have waited in a very long line for the movie but that is the price a mom pays when her children love the movie, and they actually want to see it with their mom.

That being said I was in the kitchen cooking away. I usually like to cook with music, but this time the TV was on and in the background was none other than Star Wars: Return of the Jedi.

As I cooked, I overheard the familiar dialogue and knew what was going to happen just by listening. But as I listened to the familiar sound of Darth Vader, I couldn’t help but enjoy listening to the very famous voice of James Earl Jones. I think he has one of the most recognizable voices in Hollywood.

I got to thinking of an interview I once saw with him talking about how when he was a little boy he wouldn’t even talk because he had such a severe stutter. Barely speaking for eight long years must have been incredibly hard. But could you imagine if he had decided to stay quiet? We would never have heard such a powerful, recognizable voice that brings the characters he portrays to life.

It made me think about how often the things we struggle with the most are the very things that shape who we become.

Sometimes the challenge we wish would disappear is actually the very thing God uses to build strength, compassion, wisdom, or courage within us. The struggle may not feel like a gift in the moment but looking back we often see how it prepared us for something bigger.

I find it fascinating that the Bible is filled with stories like this. Over and over again God takes what people see as weakness and turns it into something meaningful and powerful.

Moses struggled with speaking.
David was the overlooked shepherd boy.
Paul carried his “thorn in the flesh.”

Yet God used each of them in ways they probably never imagined.

So, when we find ourselves facing challenges that feel overwhelming, it helps to remember that our struggles are not wasted. In fact, they might be the very place where God’s strength shows up the most.

2 Corinthians 12:9 reminds us of this beautifully:

*”But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may

Who’s Sitting at Your Table?

Thinking back to school days, one thing almost all of us have in common is the seating arrangement in the cafeteria.

Who knows who came up with it — but it feels like it’s been happening since the dawn of time.

You know exactly what I’m talking about.

There were the groups.
The tables.
The unspoken rules about who belonged where.

And then there was “the cool table.”

Every now and then someone would gather the courage to venture over. Sometimes it worked. But often? They would walk back with their head down while laughter echoed behind them.

I always wondered why anyone would put themselves through that. Who needs that kind of rejection?

I was more than happy at my table of misfits. Spiky hair. Odd clothing. Big personalities. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was ours — and it felt safe. Even when I made cheer, I never moved tables. I stayed with my people.

Hollywood has made countless movies about this dynamic. I saw one on TV the other night. I didn’t watch it, but it stirred something in me.

It got me thinking.

What if our minds are like that cafeteria?

What if our thoughts are like the students looking for a seat?

And what if our minds are actually the “cool table”?

Here’s the truth: we are in charge of who sits there.

So why do we allow negative, self-loathing thoughts to pull up a chair?

Why do we let comparison, shame, and doubt sit comfortably at the head of the table?

If we are in charge, why don’t we send them packing?

It isn’t easy. Those thoughts can be loud. Persistent. Convincing.

But what if we started seeing it differently?

What if every time a harmful thought tried to sit down, we simply said, “Nope. Not today. There’s no seat for you here.”

Because honestly — who needs that at their table?

Scripture gives us such a clear guide for what belongs in our minds:

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”
— Philippians 4:8

Maybe the goal isn’t just kicking negative thoughts out.

Maybe it’s intentionally inviting better ones in.

Truth.
Nobility.
Purity.
Loveliness.
What is admirable.

Those are the friends worth saving a seat for.

So today, take a look at your table.

Who’s sitting there?

And who needs to be shown the door?

When the Word Weary Feels Heavy

Just hearing the word weary can stir up a feeling of exhaustion — even if you were doing just fine a moment ago.

I remember being a young mom of two — a three-year-old and a newborn son who did not enjoy sleep very much. I used to say I was weary.

But looking back, I wonder… was I truly weary? Or was I just tired?

Maybe time has softened those memories. Or maybe the years have taught me what real weariness feels like.

Because now I know there is a difference between being tired… and being weary.

Tired is physical.
Weary reaches into your bones.
Tired needs a nap.
Weary needs hope.

So let me gently ask you, sweet friend — are you weary?

Are you reluctant to step back into a situation that keeps draining you?
Are you tired of carrying something that feels heavier than it should?
Are you giving energy and endurance you simply don’t feel you have?

Sometimes weariness isn’t loud.
It’s quiet.
It’s subtle.
It’s the kind of tired you can’t quite explain.

You can’t always put your finger on why you feel this way.
You just know you don’t have much left.

If this sounds like you, please keep reading.

Because there is hope for the weary.

What Scripture Says About Weariness

🌿 Isaiah 40:29

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

God does not shame the weary.
He strengthens them.

🌿 Matthew 11:28

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Not “fix yourself first.”
Not “try harder.”
Just come.

🌿 Galatians 6:9

“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Weariness doesn’t mean failure.
It means you’ve been carrying something for a long time.

Encouragement for the Weary Heart

If you are weary:

• You are not weak.
• You are not failing.
• You are not alone.
• You are not unseen.

Weariness often comes from loving deeply, serving faithfully, enduring quietly, and hoping persistently.

And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is admit:
“I don’t have it in me today.”

God meets us right there.

Not at full strength.
Not when we’ve figured it out.
But in the middle of the fatigue.

Gentle Practical Tips for the Weary Season

Because encouragement is beautiful — but sometimes we also need small, doable steps:

1. Name What’s Draining You

Is it emotional?
Relational?
Physical?
Spiritual?

You don’t have to solve it — just acknowledge it.

2. Lower the Standard (Just for Now)

This may be a season for “good enough.”
Not perfect. Not polished. Just faithful.

3. Protect Small Pockets of Rest

Five quiet minutes.
A slow walk.
A deep breath with your hand on your heart.

Even Jesus stepped away to rest.

4. Pray Simple Prayers

When words feel heavy, try:
“Lord, carry what I cannot.”

A Closing Reflection You Could Use

Maybe I wasn’t weary as a young mom.
Maybe I was just tired.

But now I understand — true weariness is not about sleep.
It’s about the soul.

And if you are weary today, I want you to know:

You are still loved.
You are still called.
You are still held.

And strength is coming.

So, ask these few questions, do a little digging then pray to the one who holds you during these weary times and gives His strength willing to all of us weary people.

A Prayer for the Weary

Heavenly Father,

You see the parts of me that are tired beyond words.
You see the places where I keep showing up, even when my strength feels thin.

If I am weary, truly weary, would You meet me there?

Remind me that I do not have to carry everything alone.
Teach me the difference between striving and trusting.
Help me release what was never mine to hold.

Give strength where I feel weak.
Give rest where my soul feels stretched.
Give clarity where I feel confused about why I am so tired.

Help me not grow weary in doing good, but also help me recognize when I need to pause.

Thank You that You do not shame my exhaustion.
Thank You that You invite me to come.

Today, I come.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.