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Encouragement for Moms During Graduation Season

STEPHANIE FORMENTI | CONTRIBUTOR Graduation invitations. Yearbooks. Senior photos. Open houses. All signs point to graduation season—a busy and joyful time. And while motherhood is an emotional endeavor all the time, for many moms, graduation ceremonies feel like a sacred threshold where the intensity of pride and joy walk hand in hand with letting go and releasing control. In the time it takes for your student to walk across the stage, a barrage of emotions rush in: joy, relief, pride, nostalgia, and a whole new set of worries, fears, and anxieties. As a mom, you’ve watched your child grow, struggle, stretch, succeed, fail, and begin to learn responsibility. You’ve prayed over, cheered for, cried with, rejoiced with, and, at times, worried for your son or daughter. And now, the next chapter of life awaits. How can you walk faithfully through graduation season? Philippians 1:3-11 provides a beautiful guide for all you are experiencing. Much like our desire as parents, Paul writes to his spiritual children to encourage them in their faith and toward maturity and perseverance. This passage presents a helpful movement for us as moms: Give thanks. Entrust. Keep praying. Give Thanks Philippians 1:3: “I thank my God in all my remembrance of you…” Throughout Scripture, God regularly invited His people to pause and remember. Sometimes it involved a sacrifice, a song, or a small tower of stones. These physical elements were meant to invite reflection on and recollection of the faithfulness, power, love, and mercy of God. The invitation to remember is an invitation to reorient our hearts toward what we know to be true about God and to let those truths change us from the inside out. Remembering is a powerful first step toward gratitude and trust...

Encouragement for Moms During Graduation Season2025-05-05T18:43:27+00:00

The Lord’s Provision in Foster Care

JORDAN PAINTER|GUEST In February 2024, I arranged my neat little set of watercolor paints at our annual church Galentine’s event. My plan was to paint a picture, have some tasteful hors d'oeuvres, and chat with my friends. God's plan for me was to challenge much of what I had previously written off in my own pride. I simply couldn't have predicted how that one light-hearted night would thrust me toward the chaos in which I now sit a year later. Before the activities began, a woman in our church was asked to speak on her experience with foster care. Although it was probably a wonderful message, I remember nothing she said after this statement: "If every church just had one family willing to foster or adopt, there would be no child left waiting in the system." Just one. I looked around the room and I realized that we all probably assumed someone else would be the "one.” At that moment, a seed was planted that I absolutely did not want to nurture. I had seen foster care from a distance and knew it was not for me. To welcome a child, invest in them, love them, and then return them, was not something I felt I could do. I knew foster kids have messy pasts, difficult behaviors, and deep trauma. With two toddlers at home and a husband who travels for work, I was not equipped to handle that. God Establishes Our Steps Proverbs 16:9 says, "The heart of a man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” I had planned my way. It was a very average-American-middle-class way, and it sounded fantastic: I would have two to three well-behaved children, and our days filled with play dates and various groups. My husband agreed with my plan and frankly, we loved it. But the Lord established our steps. As I type this, I have two foster sons asleep in their beds. One will wake up in about thirty minutes and then continue to wake every hour or so through the night. The other will sleep well and wake with plenty of energy to scream at me when his favorite shirt is dirty. This was not my plan. The Lord established our steps...

The Lord’s Provision in Foster Care2025-04-21T19:33:06+00:00

World Down Syndrome Day: An Interview with Tim Hubach

STEPHANIE HUBACH | CONTRIBUTOR March is Down syndrome awareness month. As a parent of an adult with Down syndrome, I’ve written many different pieces about what it is like raising a child who has Down syndrome. This year, I decided to interview my son Tim instead. So, largely unedited and unfiltered. . .here’s Tim, in his own words! Tell us something about yourself and where you live? My name is Tim Hubach. I am 33 years old. And I live at 278 Stony Lane. I picture myself to be awesome. Who calls you Uncle Tim? Caroline, Everett, and Dietrich. The twins (Dietrich and Everett) are actually working on it. Because it sounds like “Unicorn Tim.” But they called me Tim first. When they call me on FaceTime, they say, “Teeem! Teeem! Teeem!” They are always happy to see me. Caroline calls me Uncle Tim. Me and Caroline are actually trouble. Sometimes we get caught when we sneak snacks. She is innocent because she always asks for snacks, but for me, as her uncle, Uncle Tim is guilty for sneaking them for both of us. What is the best thing about being an uncle? Having fun with Caroline, Everett and Dietrich. Sometimes they are a piece of work and make me crazy. But in a good way, I would say I am the only Down syndrome guy who is an uncle of those three. Also, those three are actually fun and darned entertaining. What types of things do you like to do with Caroline, Dietrich, and Everett? Coloring, going outside for walks including going to the park. Doing puzzles. Playing games. Sometimes the boys actually climb on me, like I am their jungle gym. A jungle wrestling gym! You’re fondly known by your nickname: “Cart Man.” Tell my friends the story about how you became known as “Cart Man.” Let me start off with my job at WellSpan first and how I started. On my senior year, when I was in high school, I started volunteering at WellSpan Health Center, the doctor’s office at Brownstown. What I did there when I was volunteering was greeting people. Then I said, “Hi! Welcome to WellSpan Health Center!” and they came in. So I added the greeting to my job as a cart person. The first time when I was a cart person was at Martin’s Country Market was in the year of 2013. “Welcome to Martin’s Country Market! May I help you?” Part of being a cart man is confidence, and being nice to people, and how to serve them. Customers need a cart and including feeling welcomed. The reason why the job is important is because the cart man is the first person and the last person everyone sees at the grocery store. If the cart man is happy people feel welcomed...

World Down Syndrome Day: An Interview with Tim Hubach2025-03-13T02:06:33+00:00

Trading Striving for Rest in Motherhood

GRACE THWEATT|GUEST Six months after my second child was born, both kids were sleeping through the night. I, however, wasn’t. My body exhausted; I’d lay my head on my pillow only to find my thoughts racing: I haven’t spent enough quality time with my oldest since the baby came. I wonder if he feels neglected. Goodness, I wish I hadn’t yelled at him when he disobeyed earlier. I really need to work on having more patience. I’d begin to drift off to a restless sleep, only to have a stressful dream wake me and leave me with an urgent sense that a child needed me or that I had forgotten to do something important. I would check the time, and my heart would drop with despair at the glaring number, 3am. I needed sleep to have energy to face the next day! My worrisome thoughts continued: Should I reset my alarm to get a little more sleep and just skip having an early-morning quiet-time? But I’m already feeling distant and lacking in my relationship with God… Anxiety and striving had grown to characterize my life, and they were eating away at me. I imagine I’m not alone in this. As moms, it seems we often strive in response to the anxiety we feel about our parenting. We worry: Are we teaching our kids the right things about God? Should we be memorizing more Scripture with them? Are we praying with them enough? And discipline… are we doing it right? Are we really helping facilitate heart change? We move through our days trying to do it all and do it all right. Our striving often comes from a good place: we desire to be good moms and godly individuals. But our striving ultimately leaves us feeling burned out and in bondage to our finite strength and capabilities...

Trading Striving for Rest in Motherhood2025-01-20T19:13:31+00:00

Parenting is Hard

LISA UPDIKE | GUEST Parenting is hard. I mean really hard. I know. Of course, parenting is rewarding, wonderful, and awe inspiring. I’m not denying any of that. In parenting, we experience a depth of love that we never knew we could fathom. In parenting, we catch a glimpse of our Heavenly Father’s great love for us. In parenting, we begin to understand just a wee bit of why Jesus laid down his life for us, his beloved children. Still. Parenting is hard. Some days more than others. I’m right, and you know it. It’s important on those difficult days to remember that hard isn’t bad; it’s just hard. In fact, hard might even be good. It’s funny. We think if God calls us to do something then He will make the path clear, straight, navigable. Somehow, we actually believe that if God calls us to something, and we obey, then it should be easy. But somehow life just doesn’t work that way, does it? You see, God calls us to the hard. Jesus promised that we would have tribulation in this world (John 16:33). Paul even said that Christians rejoice in their sufferings! (Rom. 5:3) And sometimes, parenting is definitely full of both tribulation and suffering. I wonder if, when God told Eve there would be pain in childbearing (Gen. 3:16) if He meant the whole experience of raising children would increase in pain. We parents are so vulnerable. After all, we love these children of ours and want to protect them from all the difficult things that can happen: rejection, failure, sickness, disability, temptation…on and on the list goes. When our children suffer, we suffer. But our job isn’t to protect them from suffering, is it? After all, God loves us far more than we love our children, and He actually brings suffering to us for our good. Our job is to point our children to Jesus in the midst of it all...

Parenting is Hard2025-01-18T15:06:55+00:00

Empty Nesting: Discovering Radical Trust

EOWYN STODDARD |GUEST I find myself in a quiet house we recently moved into, having left our previous city of 23 years just as our last child left for college. My husband is away for ten days for work, and our aging family dog is as disoriented as I am by the silence and stillness. Her persistent whining pulls me from my solitude. It was not always this way. Our home used to be bustling with the activities of raising five children—mornings were a flurry of getting everyone to school, followed by afternoons filled with homework, sports, and family dinners. Beyond our own children, we hosted German students for the past five years, engaging in nightly discussions about life and faith. Those years were full, but that chapter has closed. A New Chapter I typically enjoy new chapters in books as they signal progress and adventure, but this one feels different. The pages of my life ahead are blank, and I am uncertain how to fill them. After 25 years of mothering, I struggle with who I am now without it. I recall, as a young, introverted mother, guiltily daydreaming about a time when the house would be quiet, and I would have more space for myself. Do not get me wrong! There are certainly benefits to this new phase: the freedom to structure my own time, travel with my husband, and the opportunity to pursue personal interests. Yet, I miss those days of crazy chaos...

Empty Nesting: Discovering Radical Trust2024-09-24T16:26:46+00:00

Created for a Purpose

INGRAM LINK |GUEST In 2006, I had a house full of children (11, 9, 7, and 1). My husband had a struggling business, and I was doing a variety of things to contribute financially. We enjoyed close friendships and were involved in our church and our community. Our families did not live close by, but those relationships were strong, and we spent vacations with our extended families on both sides. In the midst of what was normal life, my oldest daughter struggled. She was smart, kind, and had talents and abilities, but she often found herself on the outer circle of different friend groups. Socially, there was an immense push to be on a certain level soccer team, dance team, gymnastics team, etc. There was also social pressure to pull children out of regular classes and be placed in enrichment classes. I saw her and the girls around her striving to be identified by what they did, rather than who they were. My mom is an artist, and she always encouraged us to be creative. As a result, I was the mom that let the kids use glitter and help me cook in the kitchen. To remind my daughter and other girls her age that they were created by God in His image for His purposes, I reached out to some other creative moms to offer a weeklong creative arts camp for girls in my home. Throughout the week, we focused on 1 Timothy 4:12, “Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.” My intention behind the camp was to use hands on, tangible ways to show the girls what it means to be wonderfully made by the God of the universe. The girls cooked a meal, sewed, painted, created a photo scrap book, and made a nativity sculpture. They had fun and they loved being together, creating, laughing, and hearing truths from God’s Word woven throughout the activities...

Created for a Purpose2024-08-26T14:46:01+00:00

At the Start of a New School Year

JAMYE DOERFLER | CONTRIBUTOR Seven years ago, when my family moved to a new city, we had a drastic change to our children’s schooling. My three boys had been enrolled in a teeny Christian school with an excellent curriculum and godly teachers. I served on the PTA and spent many hours in the school planning fundraisers and running the book fair. Our family loved both the education our kids received and the environment in which they received it. Then, we had an opportunity to plant a church in a new city. As we were praying for God’s leading in this possibility, I distinctly remember having a strong sense from the Spirit that said, “You’re going to plant a church, and your kids are going to the public school.” I myself had only attended parochial schools and then went to a Christian college, so I felt some trepidation about this idea. And yet I felt confident that this was from the Lord. In fact, I knew it was God’s will because it was not what I otherwise would have chosen! Plus, it made sense logically: if we were to be missionaries in a new place, we needed to be part of the community in a meaningful way, and we needed to be where non-Christians were. Still, it was heart wrenching to say goodbye. I had watched my oldest son thrive in the Christian school for six years, but our younger two were only just beginning, and it made me sad for them to miss out on what he’d experienced. On the last day of school, one month before we were to move, I was a blubbering mess of tears as I circled the parking lot one final time. And what a fearsome thing awaited us! My oldest son would be switching from a class of 6 to a class of 225 in seventh grade. And in middle school—the scariest age of all! On top of that, he’s never been like everyone else. He marches to the beat of his own drum. I mean, this was a kid who wore three watches on his wrist for no apparent reason at all. What would a bunch of public school kids think? The first day of school, I was terrified. I was sure he would be bullied. As the day ended, I stood at the end of my driveway peering up the street like the father of the prodigal son, desperate to see my child return safely. Finally, I saw him. There were no visible bruises. His hair did not appear to have been flushed in the toilet. Maybe he was…okay? “How did it go?” I asked when he arrived. Completely nonplussed, he replied, “It was good.”...

At the Start of a New School Year2024-08-14T13:39:19+00:00

Her Name Was Nellie Smith: The Call to Intergenerational Discipleship

SHERRY KENDRICK |GUEST Her name was Nellie Smith, and she was one of my mother’s closest friends. Through the years, they became natural partners in multiple ministries. Nellie would teach and my mother would make sure there were snacks, crafts, and a welcoming space. And through this relationship, my mother learned how to disciple and encourage me in God’s Word. Deeply and faithfully, Nellie communicated God’s Word. She taught at the Good News Club, Sunday School, Children’s Church, and Vacation Bible School. She was a student of the Word, and those of us under her instruction learned the depth and breadth of Scripture. My love of the Old Testament and how it points to Jesus came from her. Though she was not formally educated, Nellie practiced the art of captivating storytelling and warm engaging lessons. It was never boring to hear her talk about the truths of Scripture. The gospel was present in every lesson, and it pierced my young heart. One day near Easter, she prayed with me to receive Jesus and she rejoiced with my family in my salvation. Nellie loved Jesus, His Word, and His church, and she loved me. Her influence in my life shaped the beginning of my spiritual formation. From Generation to Generation As the Family Ministry Director at my church, I constantly read and follow studies about faith formation and child discipleship. The Kingdom impact of Nellie’s initial investment in my life became clear to me as I learned about the development of lasting faith in children. The impact of meaningful relationships with older faithful believers, like Nellie, cannot be underestimated...

Her Name Was Nellie Smith: The Call to Intergenerational Discipleship2024-05-02T15:53:07+00:00

Graduation: The Right Time for Ambivalence

CHRISTINE GORDON | CONTRIBUTOR I remember the first time I felt the terrible grief in my chest. I was sitting on the black couch in my living room where I always sit, reading an email about move-in dates for fall 2023 at Western Kentucky University. My husband and I discussed possible dates while my oldest, still just 17, waited for the verdict. A minute later, the date had been chosen. I entered “Elliot Move in” to Tuesday, August 15 at 1:40 on our shared family Google calendar. Then I started to sob.  A Mixture of Feelings Seventeen years felt like a very long time right up until I had an end date. Suddenly, all of the realizations began to come to mind: I would no longer hear his Sonic Bomb alarm clock along with the vibrating extension under his pillow that woke him up and made me laugh out loud every morning. There would be no more calls from a rushed boy between school and work asking me to “pretty please make me a quick grilled cheese.” I wouldn’t hear his voice yelling with his dad as they watched Tottenham Hotspur games (Premier League soccer) together in the living room. He was moving 289 miles away, to another state, where I knew no one. Neither did he.  Of course this had always been the goal. My job, like any mom, for the first part of his life had been to get him ready to make it in the world apart from me. And in many ways, through a miracle of God’s kindness and a whole lot of help, we had accomplished that goal. But all the practical plans faded as I worried through the days and nights. Would he ever make friends? Could he handle the load? Would God take care of my baby when I couldn’t?  These were my thoughts and feelings as I walked into the school gym for my oldest son’s high school graduation. But I also felt a surge of pride, joy, relief, happiness, and gratitude. I was thrilled Elliot had made it so far, and thankful for his work and perseverance. My heart was an absolute mixture of so many conflicting and different emotions. Graduation, I came to understand, can be a time of ambivalence. Whether your child is moving from the simple days of elementary to the complicated years of middle school, from a vocational school to their first professional job, or through any other graduation, we as moms are bound to feel a ball of emotions that a friend of mine appropriately calls “mixy.”  A graduation is a pivot, a landmark, and a rite of passage. It signifies change, which always involves loss. Graduations are a very good thing, and a very “mixy” thing. For moms, they often bring up an emotion that cannot be avoided in this unpredictable world: fear...

Graduation: The Right Time for Ambivalence2024-04-19T14:40:53+00:00
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