Christian Women's Lifestyle Blog

by Katie Powner I was in my twenties when I became a mother. My biological sons were born with no complications, and I took for granted that I would know what to do. Not that I had motherhood all figured out, but I believed many things would come naturally. And they did. I didn’t have to learn how to love my boys. I didn’t have to figure out how to be concerned when they were sick. No one had to tell me that I must do whatever it took to make sure they had enough to eat. I

by Morgan Krueger I look in the mirror, noticing the fine lines on my forehead that seem to be a little more prominent after a day of meetings, mothering, crying, laughing, and making only God knows how many silly faces to get a laugh out of my two boys. I step a little closer to my reflection to see if the lines are really as “bad” as they look from where I’m standing. They’re not . . . they’re worse. My husband, Ryan, calls out to me from the kitchen for a helping hand, s

by Ashlee Gadd I am standing at the kitchen counter, spooning banana mix into a muffin tin, when my daughter makes a proposal. “How about dis . . . ?” Presley begins, pausing for dramatic effect. “How about I put four chocolate chips on each muffin because dat’s how old I am?” I smile at her logic. Once every pink polka-dotted liner is filled with batter and topped with exactly four chocolate chips, I place both tins on the middle rack and set a timer. Presley runs ou