Dearest Daughters,

I’d like to open this letter, and today’s discussion of toddlers, with a memory from just a couple of years ago.

I realized at the time that my youngest, your younger brother Ari, was four; my first grandchild was three; my second grandchild was two; my third grandchild was one, and my fourth was a brand-new baby!

It was fascinating to watch the incredible development that had transpired in each of these children in just one year’s time.

Ari was just like Kaia one year ago. Kaia was just like Lucas one year ago. Lucas was just like Aaron one year ago.

And yet, look how much had changed in a single year of their lives—not only in their size, but in their capacity and their connection!

It got me thinking.

From the moment a child is conceived, beginning as a single cell, until that child is two years old, an almost unimaginable amount of physical growth and development has taken place, with trillions of cell forming in that time.

I looked at that newborn lying in his mommy’s arms, clunking himself in the face with a hand he couldn’t yet control and screaming for every meal. Then I looked at my one-year-old grandbaby with big brown eyes, intelligence already showing behind them, waving hi and clapping hands.

Then we jumped up to two-year-old Lucas with his blond curls, asking for things and stringing sentences together. Three-year-old Kaia was busy rocking her baby doll and imitating Mommy and could ask questions and even give answers. And finally there was four-year-old Ari, who knew his alphabet and could count.

It was astonishing to me.

I was so moved by this that the thought occurred to me:

What if we as adults changed that much in one year?

And I felt the Lord admonish me, Oh, you can.

(And I don’t mean physically—hopefully.)

But it got me thinking. A baby is not afraid to fail. If he falls down thirty-three times in a day, he just falls and hits his bottom. He may not even fuss. He may whimper or cry or knock himself in the head on the coffee table as he goes down, but he gets right back up and tries to walk again.

When he says words that no one understands, he doesn’t get embarrassed and say, Well, that’s too bad. I’m never trying that again.

But how many times in our lives do we do exactly that?

The Lord corrects us. Our first try at something doesn’t go over very well, and we say, It’s just not my thing. I’m hurt because I wasn’t accepted.

These things don’t deter a baby—and thank God they don’t, or babies would never walk, feed themselves, pick up their heads for that matter, or talk!

They just keep trying because something inside of them says, I must do it. I was made to do this.

And if I can give you as mothers any word of encouragement, it is this: when you fail—especially in motherhood, because you will—just get back up and say, I was made to do this, so I’ll keep doing it until I get it!

If I’ve had any success in motherhood it was in this: by failing again and again yet saying to myself, Well, that didn’t work. What will?

And then trying again.

Now let’s get back to those babies, because it might help you to understand just how much is going on inside them.

There’s a reason a toddler can change so dramatically in such a short time. He’s learning almost constantly. Everything is new and an adventure. Everything is forming connections. Before we talk about how to train and guide a toddler, I want you to stop for a moment and consider just how much that little person is learning.

In just the first two years of life, a baby typically learns to hold up his head, roll over, sit up, crawl on all fours, pull himself to standing, and walk. Before long, he begins to run and climb. He learns to bend down and stand back up, throw and kick a ball, pick up tiny objects with his fingers, and stack blocks.

He learns to turn pages and scribble. He feeds himself with his hands and begins using utensils. He learns to drink from a cup and chew all kinds of foods, even though he started out without a single tooth.

He learns to recognize familiar people and objects and to know his own name. He begins to understand more and more words and follow simple directions. He starts saying words and eventually strings two or more of them together. He names familiar people and things and points to different parts of his body.

By two, he can communicate many of the things he wants. He imitates sounds, words, actions, and expressions. He remembers where things belong and can find hidden objects. He can match or sort simple objects and begin solving simple problems.

He’s even beginning to understand cause and effect—which is one reason little babies are so delighted to throw their toys on the floor and make you pick them up again!

He recognizes routines and anticipates what comes next. He expresses happiness, anger, fear, frustration, and affection. He seeks comfort from trusted adults and shows strong attachments to his parents, family, and caregivers. He begins noticing other people’s feelings and showing interest in other children.

He plays beside other children. He imitates household work and adult activities and engages in simple pretend play.

And then, of course, he begins asserting independence.

Me do it!

No!

He begins learning boundaries and discovering what no means. He helps with dressing and undressing himself, participates in washing his hands and other routines, and can begin helping with simple chores.

All the while, he is learning hundreds of patterns about how his family, his home, his language, and his world work, and he will try to hold you to them!

That is just a little snapshot of what is going on in your baby, besides his physical growth, his brain development, and the extraordinary number of new connections being formed inside his little head and body.

When you realize how much a toddler is already learning without anyone sitting him down for a lesson, you begin to understand why these years matter so much. He’s learning patterns whether you intentionally teach them or not.

There are many perspectives on parenthood, and I don’t claim to know the best ones for you or anyone else. But I do want to communicate to you the things that have worked for me.

Again, there’s so much going on in a baby’s life, and in a toddler’s life. They are moldable. They are learning and making new connections, habits, and associations every day. The way I see it, this is the time to channel all that energy and creativity into good habits and patterns.

As I’ve said many times before, connection is the primary key.

You must be connected to what’s going on with your child. Make decisions about how you will connect with your child every day.

I read to my babies every day, and especially when they became toddlers. They’re fascinated with books and textures, and we sit together and turn pages and talk.

One of my favorite things about this is watching them look at my face and imitate my expressions. They understand that the story is joyful or scary simply by looking at me. They look down at the picture, then up at my face, and mimic the facial expression I’m making. Little by little, they’re making connections between the picture, my voice, my face, and what it all means.

You can also teach a toddler simple sequences: Clap, and then jump.

Those simple games teach them to listen, remember, and do things in an order—skills that will serve them well as they grow and learn and move toward skill like reading.

Children also benefit enormously from having parameters.

We do this. We don’t do that. When we’re done with this, we do this.

Develop simple routines for things like toothbrushing and toileting.

Go to the bathroom. Wash your hands. Dry your hands. Wipe the counter.

Before bed: go potty, wash hands and face, brush your teeth, come for a story, then prayers and a song.

All these little things teach them that life has structure.

If you have no structure in your life, you may actually find that you have less flexibility. Structure gives you something to come back to, and that creates room for spontaneity in between. If you’re endlessly behind, if there’s never really a mealtime and never really a bedtime, you may find yourself running out of time to do anything.

But if you make certain parts of your day fairly structured, there can be plenty of give in between.

Recently, a mother told me that she had returned from a trip. She has a two-year-old and a baby, and after traveling, she came home to have company stay in her house. Her two-year-old began acting up tremendously—throwing fits, shrieking, and disobeying in ways he hadn’t before the trip.

I told her that I felt the upheaval of the travel, followed immediately by an unfamiliar person staying in the house, was probably affecting him. That wouldn’t be surprising behavior for a two-year-old whose familiar little world had suddenly become much less predictable.

In a season like that, I think it’s especially important to protect those times of connection with your child.

Put him to bed in the familiar way, with the traditional routine. Spend a little time in the morning talking to him, reading a story, and praying with him.

And don’t underestimate how much a two-year-old can understand!

Tell him clearly and simply what you expect. Give him short windows of time in which to succeed, and make the consequence something he can understand.

“We’re going to use a quiet voice until lunchtime. If you can do that, Mommy and you will read a special story together before nap. If you choose to scream, we won’t have the special story today.”

Keep it concrete. Keep it short. Keep it understandable. And demonstrate what you do and don’t want him to do!

You may be surprised by how much your two-year-old comprehends.

Give clear parameters, and give him opportunities to succeed within them.

There are so many other things I’d like to say about toddlerhood, and I hope you’ll feel free to ask questions even in response to this letter. But I’ll save some of them for next week, as this letter is already getting a bit long!

It’s a tough season, but it’s wonderful.

You have the most amazing potential right there in your home, wrapped up in that little package.

So love him. Connect with him, and channel all that tremendous energy toward what is good.

I love you,

Mom

Dearest Daughters,

Today I’m going to send you something I wrote for Uncle Asi’s child training book, Child Training: A Candid Guide to Christian Parenting. This is originally taken from a seminar I’ve given on multiple occasions, but I really feel that it can give a perspective on how we should approach the toddler years. The next few letters will be speaking to that season!

According to Jesus, timing is of utmost importance. He repeatedly spoke of the times and seasons, telling His disciples that while any time was right for them, His time had not yet come (John 7:6). He said that the times and seasons belonged to the Father’s authority (Acts 1:7). Thus He tied timing to God’s lordship. We recognize this truth in many facets of life, including some elements of child development. For instance, we expect our babies to develop physically and mentally according to a certain general schedule, and if they fail to do so, we become alarmed and seek help. However, when it comes to character development, there’s often a general lack of expectation (other than perhaps bad character development).

Specifically, if your child does not roll over between three and six months, crawl between six and ten months, walk between ten and fourteen months, talk by the time they are two, and start reading around six, you will be very alarmed. Most likely, you will call your doctor or a therapist for help. However, when a child throws a temper tantrum at two, we excuse it as “The Terrible Twos.” When a three-year-old destroys family dinner and disrupts an entire restaurant with blood-curdling screams over not being allowed to choose her entrée or seat at the table, we claim, “She’s just over-stimulated.” When a four-year-old can’t go to bed without weeping, complaining and backtalk, we sigh and say, “Children will be children.” When a seven-year-old keeps a pigsty for a bedroom, we shrug and say, “He must be the creative type.” And the list goes on and on as we excuse the retardation of character growth and maturity in children.

I propose that, just as in physical and mental development, there are optimum windows of time for forming specific character traits in children. And meeting these timelines will greatly facilitate growth and development in every other area. Disciplined children with well-nurtured character are teachable, curious and obedient children. The child’s life becomes easier and his path clearer when the obstacles of bad character have been removed. He can then live in a place of constant learning and interaction with those who can guide him.

Our first two children were twelve and a half months apart, so we needed to teach our ten-month-old to ‘come’ when called before the new baby’s arrival, knowing that Mommy would soon be occupied with the newborn and unable to chase the toddler constantly. Amazingly (to some), she could learn this quite easily with a bit of practice and consistency on our part. By the time the baby was born two months later, we could call her when she was doing anything, and she would race to us on all fours from whatever room in the house she was in. She wasn’t even yet walking, yet she knew exactly what “Come” meant.

This prompted me to consider how low our expectations often are toward other capabilities of our children. Having grown up on a farm, I knew you could teach pretty much any animal a lot. Everyone knows you can teach a dog all kinds of tricks, but you can also teach a horse to be guided by the gentlest touch to its neck or the slightest pressure with your knee. You can teach cows to come into the barn morning and night and to stand patiently still while being milked. You can teach sheep to come from a quarter of a mile away at just the sound of your voice. Even a chicken can be taught to come into the coop at night and to lay their eggs in a nest box instead of in the dirty chicken yard! Most animals can learn quite a few things (although I’m not sure about goats—they’re plenty smart but usually too rebellious to obey!).

However, parents often don’t consider their child teachable until he has mastered English. This is not so! I find infants to be, in many ways, more teachable before they speak than after they have learned to argue and manipulate those lovely English words. For example, it’s pretty easy and effective to teach non-verbal children to say “please” with sign language when they’re only 8 to 10 months old.

As repeatedly emphasized, we first teach a child transparent love and affection. We show them love when we become fools in our efforts to connect and communicate with even the youngest babies. Even this is already a lesson on honest transparency. They learn to expect total love and to feel complete harmony with their parents every minute. A baby is hardwired to feel that love and connection, and because of this, they hate any discord in the atmosphere or relationship and will do almost anything to make it right.

So when a seven-month-old in your lap pulls himself to his feet and snatches your glasses off your face or swipes a candle off the coffee table, it’s the perfect time to teach them “No!” This can easily be done by introducing a new, firm voice that feels like discord to them. The baby will instantly check your face and eyes and stop what they are doing just to understand your mood change and attitude toward them.

A nine- or ten-month-old loves to jabber, and we mostly love to hear it! But when we’re gathered around the table, and Daddy is trying to explain something to the teenagers, it’s time for him to learn to be quiet. A firm “Quiet” will get the child’s attention enough to make him stop and make eye contact with everyone. Especially if everyone at the table joins in the effort and looks at him soberly, he can easily learn to be quiet at the table while adults are talking. He is startled by and pondering the changed atmosphere. He may try a few attempts at changing that mood with “cuteness,” but if you stay firm in your “quiet,” he will begin to understand. This is the first step in teaching a child to have an ear for God and those He sends, just as the young boy Samuel did.

A baby should be able to come when called, and you should have confidence that he will respond to “No” well before he reaches a year. These goals can be attained with firm consistency, accompanied by loving praise for obedience.

A goal I’ve always set for myself is to be able to go to anyone’s home by the time my child is 16 months old and have confidence in his obedience and his relationship with me. I expect that when we go to Grandma’s house, he will enthusiastically rush to the coffee table, excited by all the shiny objects, but he will look back and make eye contact with me before touching anything. At that point, I can shake my head and finger side to side, and he will not touch anything.

In our community, toddlers begin to attend Sunday church meetings at two years old. Because of this, I have the “sit still and quiet” goal. We start practicing between 14 and 18 months. The toddler will sit with his daddy during family reading and prayer time. We try to make it feel like a privilege and a “big boy” opportunity to sit with Daddy. Of course, there will be moments when he doesn’t want to sit there, and there will be tears. But a firm “snuggled” insistence and ignoring of the tears will soon produce resignation and joyful anticipation of the ritual of sitting with Daddy. Our toddler is soon excited to sit with Daddy and “read the ‘Biboe.’” When the child becomes good at sitting still and quiet with Daddy, he graduates to his own chair to practice by himself.

If we look at these moments in the child’s development as ripe opportunities for shaping their character and relationships, we will seize every moment and reap long-term fruit. The ensuing happiness and peace in the child and the family will be a great reward.

If my toddler is still not obeying promptly or coming when I call by the time he’s two, I hope my attitude will always be, “My child has a dangerous developmental delay! We need help and intensive ‘therapy’!”

The times and seasons are not ours but belong to the Father who gave the child to us on loan to train and to love, and He has given them a fertile heart and mind for learning to be teachable sheep, not stubborn goats.

I pray this will help you in your journey with your toddlers! Let the adventure begin!

Love,

Mom

We will not hide them from their children,
Telling to the generation to come the praises of the LORD,
And His strength and His wonderful works that He has done…
That they may set their hope in God,
And not forget the works of God,
But keep His commandments.
— Psalm 78:4,

Dearest Daughters,

I feel as if I can’t conclude this series on babies without discussing with you something of how I feel about birth itself.

As you’re well aware, all eight of you were born at home. Six of you passed first into the hands of your grandmother and then into mine. And now I’ve been a midwife for nearly three decades and have delivered more than 600 babies.

Why did I choose to have my babies at home? And why has home birth become such an integral part of our community life?

My passion for sustaining home birth and midwifery is not simply because I feel that preserving the profession is important. It’s because I believe the perspective that makes us want to have our births at home is a perspective that will preserve family, memory, belonging, and community.

Birth is one of the places where we either strengthen or weaken those things. And my passion in midwifery is to preserve the conditions that allow human beings and human relationships to flourish.

We live in a generation that I believe is homesick. Why is it that so many people are longing to go home? They’re beginning to homestead, to garden, to buy locally, to raise chickens, to build front porches, to homeschool.

So much of our culture is fragmented. People work in one place, worship in another, school their children with still another set of relationships, and get their exercise in yet a different circle of relationships. Life is so disjointed.

But a longing is tugging at people’s hearts, pulling them back home—to family and to the land.

They want neighbors whose names they know. They want land where they’ve trod over every inch, soil they’ve sifted between their fingers.

They want God and each other. The same longing that makes people ask where their food comes from eventually makes us ask where our children enter the world, and what kind of relationships should surround that entrance.

Birth is the gateway to life. And when we change the way we view birth, we change the way we view everything.

The idea of home birth has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. It really began with my parents—your grandparents—when they were living on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

They were about to take my older brother to public school when they looked at the chain-link fence, the concertina wire, the drug addicts lying in the street, and asked themselves, Is this where we want our son’s life to be shaped?

That question released a whole series of other questions.

Where does our food come from?

How should we care for our elderly?

What about the way our babies are born?

The end result was that my mom became a midwife, and the community into which you were born came to birth. They began growing their own food. They began to take responsibility for their lives.

In essence, they decided, We don’t want to outsource all the most vital elements of life to institutions. We want that experience and that responsibility.

So when I was growing up, birth wasn’t kept behind closed doors for us. We saw chicks hatching and calves being born. We helped lambs get unstuck in the birth process. Birth was simply there, woven into ordinary life.

When my mom first began midwifery, though, the craft had almost become extinct.

What had happened?

Midwives had attended births for thousands of years. Hospitals were for sickness, and midwives were for birth. But along with the industrialization and urbanization of our country, midwives became all but extinct. There were various reasons for this, which I won’t get into here, but birth was increasingly viewed not as a family event but as a medical problem that needed to be solved.

Birth moved from relationship to protocol, and from home to institution.

Now, please understand— I’m not anti-hospital. I believe hospitals have been a great blessing and offer care that is invaluable when birth becomes pathological or when a mother or baby needs medical intervention. But the hospital serves a different purpose from the home.

The older view of birth was that it was a family event. Midwives carried a sacred art. They were there not to control birth, but to serve it, to bring wisdom, experience, and watchfulness, and to bear witness to one of the most sacred events in a family’s life.

The newer view tends to see birth primarily as a medical event; a procedure that must be managed with efficiency and good protocols.

So birth changed categories.

It changed from a family event that occasionally required medical help to a medical event that happened to involve a family.

But now, in this renewed longing for home, people are asking questions again.

Of course, a sacred birth can happen anywhere, and sometimes the most loving, responsible choice is to seek medical care.

But I believe that the way our community has primarily given birth—at home when mothers and babies are low-risk and birth is proceeding normally—is a beautiful and sacred experience that I long to protect. I want to be a guardian of it, both as your mother and as a midwife.

Because I believe that shared experiences cultivate relationship, memory, and belonging.

Whenever we participate together in a monumental event in life—birth, death, injury, heartache—we’re bound together in ways we cannot easily or quickly escape. We go through something that reduces us together and makes us transparent together. We see one another for who we really are.

And a midwife is there to protect that experience.

She’s there to help a mother believe that she possesses strength she may have never unearthed before.

Of course, we must bring experience, wisdom, and competence into a birth. Those things matter enormously. But when people remember their births, they are rarely remembering the blood-pressure readings or hematocrit reports.

Rather, they remember who sat with them and helped them believe they could do it.

They remember the feeling in the room, the whispered prayers and the tears on their husband’s face.

They remember the first time their toddler stroked the velvet cheek of the newborn and the awe in those little eyes.

Those memories bind relationships together, creating belonging, and that’s what we are trying to preserve and protect.

When I—or any of you—walk into a room in our community, someone can say a simple phrase like, “Snacks at the Lancasters after Christmas,” and everyone cracks up laughing.

Why? Because we belong to that memory. We know what we’re talking about. We were there and shared something together.

And the more things we share together, especially the profound events associated with life, such as births, deaths, weddings, and funerals, the more those memories weave back and forth, up and down, through relationships and even through generations.

They tie us together and make a strong community.

Perhaps that’s one reason Scripture tells God’s people again and again:

Remember.

Remember the Passover. Remember the Exodus. Remember the stones. Tell your children what God has done.

Because memory creates belonging. We are “re-membered” to each other and the memory.

When people look at my life, they may think my real work is catching babies. I do prenatal care. I carry equipment and medicines. I have medical knowledge and nearly thirty years of experience, particularly as it relates to birth. That’s all true.

But it’s certainly not the whole story.

What I’m really trying to do is preserve a place where families can experience one of the most sacred moments of their lives together. I want to bring the wisdom and competence necessary to guard that experience, while leaving the family free to truly own it and to build their own shared memories. I want to preserve their most sacred moments, to help them discover that they still have the power to take responsibility for the greatest things in life.

And by responsibility, I don’t mean rugged individualism. Taking responsibility doesn’t mean we necessarily do every single thing ourselves. In fact, it often means the opposite. It simply means we refuse to merely become passive participants in our own lives. Instead, we intentionally choose the places and relationships on which we’ll depend. And they will be the people God has placed around us.

A mother needs the love and faith of her husband, and a husband needs the experience and wisdom of the midwife. The midwife may require the skill of a physician. And the new family needs grandmothers and sisters and neighbors who will bring meals, tend children, wash laundry, and sit beside the bed. But the very nature of birth allows us to reveal our needs, and that need binds us in interdependence with others we love. That is community.

Modern culture has become very good at efficiency. But to really live life, something is required that efficiency cannot measure: presence.

How can you measure, in economic terms—or even in terms of efficiency—the one who sat up with you all night and held your hand?

How do you put a value on the husband who panted with his wife for thirteen hours straight, with sweat dripping from his own brow?

What is the financial value of the person who looked into your eyes when you thought you couldn’t go on and said, Yes, you can?

As a midwife, I’m not there to remove the labor of giving birth. But I am there to be with the mothers and to help them believe that they can do it.

Skills may save lives, but it’s this type of presence that sustains life and relationships.

And that presence continues long after the baby is born. One of the things I love most about living in our community is that a birth seems, in some way, to belong to all of us.

The meals begin arriving. Someone takes the older children. A friend slips quietly into the house and carries away the laundry or the ironing. People make room for the mother to rest and for the family to rejoice in this new chapter.

I can hardly remember attending a birth when a meal did not show up—not only for the mother and her family, but almost always for us as well!

Everyone seems to understand that a new soul has come into the world, and that means something for all of us.

Together we say to the family:

You are not alone. We are with you in this.

We must create a culture of care, and that is the answer to the homesickness I spoke of earlier.

Our goal is not to simply go back to houses, gardens, chickens or even home births. We’re longing for a life in which the vital elements of life still belong to us, and in which we still belong to one another. A place where every shared experience becomes a shared memory that re-members, that connects us back to one another and to our stories.

This is why home birth and midwifery matter so much to me.

I’ve watched men become fathers, women become mothers, parents become grandparents, and little children become older brothers and sisters. I’ve watched communities gather around them and rejoice.

And because of it all, I want to guard the places where those relationships can flourish.

Your grandparents rediscovered many things that have given us life, memory, and community. They didn’t teach us that we should need no one. Quite the opposite.

They paved the way for us by taking responsibility for the things that matter most—and then they taught us to share that responsibility with the people to whom we belong.

Doing this has changed us and bound us together.

And now, as your mother and as a midwife, I long to protect those things. And I pray that you will protect them, too, carrying them on and passing them to your own children and grandchildren.

Because I’m convinced that what we’re preserving is more than simply a way of giving birth.

We’re preserving a way of belonging to one another.

With all my love,
Mom

I don’t normally send out an email on a Tuesday, but today I have a special announcement!

I’m so excited to tell you about the upcoming Homemakers Conference in Columbia, Tennessee, on October 17th and 18th.

This is absolutely one of my favorite events of the year, a time when women who are passionate about being wives, mothers, and homemakers come together to support, inspire, and encourage one another.

I am honored to have been asked to speak on several topics at this year’s conference. I’ll be talking about marriage, motherhood, and parenting—and yes, that includes raising both toddlers and teenagers!

I would absolutely love for you to come and join us.

And I have a special discount for you! When you register, use the code HOMESTEAD50 to receive your discount. So please go to the Homemaker Conference website right away to reserve your seat! https://www.universe.com/events/homemaker-conference-2026-tickets-D4Z6HM

I believe that when we unite and become a community of homemakers, we can do great things. Our homes can become nurturing places of love, peace, faith, and family, and together we can encourage one another in this beautiful and powerful work!

I’m looking forward to a wonderful weekend of learning, fellowship, encouragement, and being together with women who share a love for home and family.

I hope to see you there!

With love,
Amanda Lancaster

Dearest Daughters,

Once again, I would love to discuss babies.

As you know, babies are a big part of my heart. I had eight of my own and, as a midwife, have helped mommies deliver over 600 babies. Helping women become mommies is a passion and a love for me.

As mothers, it’s very easy to fall into the ditch of turning baby development and motherhood into a competition. Please don’t disgrace motherhood like that! But do pay enough attention to your baby to recognize if there is a true problem and your baby genuinely needs help.

Babies develop and grow at different rates. You’re the mom, so trust your instincts, but be wise enough to recognize when you’re seeing something that’s out of the normal for your baby.

Milestones are guideposts, not grades.

They can help us set parameters for our expectations, but they should never become an Olympic challenge.

I remember being a first-time mom and fretting and worrying. I remember conversations with my peers that were sometimes less than helpful.

My baby is eating, and she’s only five months. Your baby is six months and she hasn’t eaten yet? Is she okay?

Meanwhile, my baby was weighing a whopping twenty pounds at five months! I had no need to worry.

My baby is teething.

And I daily pried my baby’s mouth open to see if there was some disease preventing her teeth from coming in. Poor Helen! I’m so sorry.

My baby is walking.

And then I wondered if there was something wrong with mine. Are her legs okay? Why isn’t she walking?

This kind of competition creates nothing but anxiety and stress. Instead, look at your baby.

Is she smiling? Is she eating and growing? Is she happy and engaged? Does she coo with you? Does she respond to your voice and interact with the people and the world around her? Most importantly, is she progressing? Is she doing more things this month than she did last month? Is she continuing to develop? Then everything’s fine.

Anytime you see a regression in your baby—for instance, the loss of a skill previously had—that’s a time when you should reach out to your healthcare provider. But normally, just pay attention to her trajectory, and don’t become anxious just because someone else’s baby is doing something yours isn’t doing yet.

Be Careful Who You Ask

There’s another source of anxiety for young mothers today: “Dr. Google,” AI bots, and social media!

With the advent of the internet, suddenly we have endless mothers and babies to compare ourselves to—and endless diseases to be afraid of.

I’ve been a midwife for twenty-eight years, a mother for nearly twenty-nine, and I was the second of ten children. I’ve never seen fear in mothers like I see today.

When I was a young mom, most of the mothers I knew seemed much more confident. They asked their own mothers or grandmothers questions about their babies, but now we ask Dr. Google.

I’ve had so many women call me, terrified because their baby is crying, their baby’s belly is making noises, their baby spits up, or they aren’t sure whether something their baby is doing is normal.

Fear can make it very difficult for a mother to think clearly and make wise choices. And a frightened, tense mother can also have a harder time calming a frightened, tense baby.

If something isn’ nt alarming but you simply have a question, ask a mother whose mothering skills you admire. Ask someone experienced and wise. Don’t ask another novice who’s just as frightened as you are, and certainly don’t let social media become the authority on your baby.

If something truly concerns you, however, seek qualified medical help. Trusting your instincts does not mean assuming that you do or should always know the answer. Sometimes your mothering instinct is the thing telling you, Something isn’t right. I need help.

A Simple First-Year Mental Map

Now let me get into a few milestones. Milestones are not an exact science, and they are more useful for helping you see an overall trajectory than for giving your baby a deadline.

Once again, watch for progress.

Birth to Two Months

From birth to around two months old, your baby will gradually become more alert. She’ll begin to look at your face—to study it, even. She’ll begin smiling, reacting to your voice and other sounds, moving her arms and legs more vigorously, and briefly lifting and holding her head during tummy time.

You’ll begin to see that little person waking up to you and the world around her!

Around Four Months

Around four months, your baby will have many more interactions with you.

While she may have begun cooing much earlier, now you’ll hear more cooing and playful noises. She’ll smile to get your attention and may begin laughing. She may blow bubbles and raspberries as she experiments with her mouth.

She’ll hold her head much more steadily, bring her hands to her mouth, reach toward and grasp things, and bring her hands together toward the center of her body. Some babies will also begin rolling around this stage.

Around Six Months

Around six months, she’ll recognize familiar people and become increasingly interested in what’s happening around her.

She’ll reach purposefully to grab things, exploring them with her hands and mouth. She’ll roll, push herself up, and begin supporting herself while sitting.

She’ll laugh and make sounds back and forth with you. This is such a favorite stage because I always began to feel more and more as though I was having a conversation with you all—even though neither of us was using many words! What we stoop to, just to communicate with those little people!

Around Nine Months

Around nine months, your baby will usually be much more socially engaged.

She’ll make many different sounds and enjoy games such as peekaboo and pat-a-cake. And she may discover that delightful game where she drops something and watches Mommy fetch it—over and over and over again!

Your baby will transfer things between her hands and will often be sitting independently. Many babies will also have discovered some form of mobility by this time—perhaps scooting, belly crawling, or crawling—although babies vary quite a bit in how and when they decide to get around.

Talk to your baby often! It’s one of the most important things you can do with them.

Read books together. Let her touch things and explore the different textures. She’ll enjoy touching something soft, something slick, something bumpy, and learning about her world through her hands, instead of only her mouth.

Some babies will also begin pulling themselves up as they move through this stage and toward their first birthday.

Around Twelve Months

Around twelve months, your baby may be waving, clapping, understanding simple communication, and beginning to say or attempt early words.

She’ll love putting things into containers and taking them back out again.

She may be pulling herself to stand, standing while holding on, and cruising around the furniture.

Some babies are walking around twelve months.

Others will wait another couple of months.

Walking by the first birthday is not a requirement!

Resist the temptation to be looking sideways at other peoples’ babies, and comparing your own.

Look at your own child. God gave you your baby. He didn’t give everybody else your baby or you everyone else’s.

Month by month, ask yourself:

Is my baby developing?

Is my communication and connection with my baby growing?

Is she learning new things and becoming increasingly engaged with the world around her?

If she is, that’s encouraging!

Know When to Get Help

There is, however, a difference between refusing to be anxious and ignoring something that needs attention.

If something about your baby truly frightens you, seek help.

Once again, pay attention if your baby loses a skill she previously had, or if she seems too floppy or too stiff, stops responding to your voice or looking at you, or if she consistently moves one side of her body very differently from the other.

For example, if she’s using one arm normally but consistently keeping the other tucked against herself, that’s worth bringing to her medical provider.

Then there are times when it isn’t a developmental question, but a need for immediate emergency action. In these situations, always get medical guidance. If your baby has:

Difficulty breathing; blue, gray, or unusually pale coloring; a seizure; extreme difficulty waking; signs of significant dehydration; repeated forceful green vomiting; or a fever higher than 100.4 while under three months old—get competent help immediately.

Those would not be situations for comparing notes with other mothers or searching social media!

And Some Things Are Just Babies Being Babies

On the other hand, newborn babies do some very strange things!

Hiccups are normal.

Sneezing is normal.

Noisy sleep is normal.

Startling is normal.

Newborns may also have their own unique breathing pattern while sleeping. Sometimes there will be several rapid breaths and then a brief pause. But their breathing should always return to normal.

Their skin may peel.

Baby acne is very common and usually disappears on its own.

Spitting up is also very common, but repeated forceful vomiting, especially green vomiting, should be brought up with your healthcare provider.

There can also be variations in a baby’s stool. A breastfed baby’s stool is often a mustard-yellow color with a seedy appearance, but there can be normal variations from diaper to diaper.

Babies are living, changing little human beings. Not everything they do will look exactly like the photograph in the baby book.

Connect, Connect, Connect

Above all, connect, connect, connect with your baby.

Look into her eyes. Talk to her. Sing to her. Hold her. Read to her. Watch what interests her. Learn what makes her smile. Learn what overwhelms her. Learn the little sounds she makes and what they mean.

Become a student of your baby.

We will get into many more details about ways to teach and train your baby as we continue our journey through childhood and learning. But for now, these milestones can give you a few guideposts to help you see the trajectory.

Remember, motherhood is not a competition. Your baby is not a grade. She is not an Olympic challenge.

She is a living, breathing little person, and there is a beautiful amount of variation in human beings.

That is part of the beauty of being a person.

With all my love,

Mom

“I will both lie down in peace, and sleep: for You alone,O LORD, make me dwell in safety.” Psalm 4:8

Dearest Daughters,

Teaching your new baby to sleep can be a challenge, but don’t panic!

Sleep is actually something that a baby must learn. In the beginning, their habits and patterns are very chaotic; I suppose that means they are hardly patterns at all! Their little bodies have not yet gotten everything organized. They have not yet matured into the rhythms of sleeping and waking, eating and digesting, playing and relaxing, the way an adult body functions.

So don’t panic in those first weeks when you feel like you can’t tell when they want to eat and when they want to sleep. That is all part of the process.

But from my point of view, teaching your baby to sleep—and to sleep peacefully—is an incredibly important element of their early connection and training, because it is one of the first places that you teach your baby to trust.

You are teaching them:

Mommy is here. I am safe. Everything is quiet. I can let go. I can relax and rest in her arms, and then in the places where she lays me to rest.

This is a beautiful connection, and one that is building trust.

So don’t measure your success in motherhood by how well your six-week-old is sleeping! You have just begun the journey of motherhood and one of your first training experiences.

Teach the Difference Between Day and Night

Begin by teaching your baby the difference between night and day.

This isn’t a lesson plan that you’re going to organize, but rather a concept that you bear in mind throughout your own days and nights.

During the day, and specifically during your baby’s wakeful times, open the curtains. Open the windows if the weather is nice. Bring your baby to sit somewhere where they can watch you. Take your baby outside to experience the fresh air. Give them a bath. Talk and sing to them. Let them experience the ordinary life of the household.

With my babies, I really focused in the evenings on doing some of these activities, like taking the baby outside or giving them a bath, so that they could be wakeful and interested during that fussy time of the evening. Then they would be ready to relax and go to sleep.

Accentuate the difference between day and night, sleep time and wake time.

If the curtains are open and there is a fresh breeze during the day and during the times you want your baby to be wakeful, then when it is time to sleep, close the curtains, quiet the room, lower the lights, and bring the space in closer.

You are gently teaching their little body, Now it is time to rest.

Learn Your Baby’s Sleepy Language

The next thing I would do is learn your baby’s sleepy language.

Does your baby begin rubbing an ear? Yawning? Do the eyes become heavy-lidded? Do you notice a glazed-over expression or a particular kind of fussing?

Learn to recognize the way fatigue expresses itself in your particular baby. When you begin to see those signs, take note: This is what my baby looks like when he is tired.

It may be a good time for a nap or bedtime. If it isn’t quite the appropriate time, you may be able to take the baby outside, give them a bath, or engage them for a little longer as you gradually work toward the rhythm you are trying to establish. Don’t force an exhausted baby to stay awake, but little by little you can begin helping their days fall into a rhythm.

Develop a Bedtime Ritual

This, to me, is one of the most important things I did with my children. They all learned to love bedtime.

It doesn’t need to be an hour-long routine. In fact, I think simple is better, but try to do it in much the same way every time. Your baby will begin to recognize the cues that mean, It is time to go to sleep.

A typical newborn bedtime routine for me might have looked something like this:

Change the baby’s diaper. Put on pajamas and swaddle the baby while they are still young enough for swaddling. Feed and burp the baby with the lights down low. Rock and cuddle for a little while. Then sing a specific song while gently stroking their back in a circle.

As the baby is drifting off to sleep, or has just drifted off, I would gently ease them into their cradle, bottom first and head second, and lay them in a safe position. I would leave my hand resting on them for a moment, whisper a prayer, wait until I felt that little body relax, and then slowly slide my hand away.

That was a very typical routine for me when my newborns were learning to go to sleep.

Don’t be concerned by every little fuss and squirm. Babies make noises in their sleep and as they are letting go into sleep, just as adults sometimes twitch or jerk when they are drifting off.

Try to do the same thing each time. The repetition itself becomes comforting.

Don’t Be Afraid to Comfort Your Baby

Have freedom to do what helps you with your baby. If rocking, cuddling, patting, or gently rubbing their back helps your baby go to sleep, that does not mean you are necessarily creating some terrible habit. Just do it in moderation.

You don’t need to rock for two hours every night. Decide what you are willing and able to do consistently. Perhaps you rock for a few minutes, sing your song, rub their back, say your prayer, and then put them down.

Do approximately that same amount each time, and gradually they will learn what those things mean.

This is what we do before sleep.

I know what comes next.

I am safe.

I can relax.

Consistency is more important than creating some elaborate routine.

Make Sleep Safe

Your baby’s sleep space also needs to be safe. Use a firm, flat sleep surface, and place your baby in a position where their airway is open and clear. The current recommended model is on their back. Keep the actual sleeping area clear of squishy pillows, loose blankets, and other soft things that could cover the baby’s face or interfere with breathing.

I always liked giving my babies a small, soft mini blanket or little stuffed animal to cuddle while I breastfed them. They became familiar with the feel and smell of that special object, and it became another comforting cue.

And if your child eventually becomes attached to a particular comfort object when they are old enough to safely sleep with it, my practical advice is: have two! Buy two identical ones before you desperately need the second one.

If one is lost, dirty, or accidentally left somewhere, you will be very glad you did. My babies became attached to their special little things, and later it helped them sleep almost anywhere. That was a lifesaver to me.

Inch Toward a Rhythm

The habit of sleep develops over weeks and even months. I usually set a goal of having my baby settled into a somewhat predictable sleeping schedule by around three months. It wasn’t always accomplished for me by then, and sometimes it happened a little earlier, but it was usually somewhere close.

But we tried to inch toward the goal of a rhythm each day: a morning nap, an afternoon nap, and sometimes an additional nap when they were very little, and, as much as possible, a consistent nighttime bedtime.

Keeping bedtime fairly consistent was very, very helpful, both the timing and the routine surrounding it.

I always sang “Jesus Loves Me,” when I put my babies down for the night.

I always prayed as I put my hand on my baby’s back or body for a moment and gently rub until I felt their little body let go.

The moment that their little body relaxed in absolute trust and surrendered to sleep was always one of my favorite feelings in motherhood.

As your baby gets a little older and you know that they’re fed, dry, comfortable, and safe, you don’t necessarily have to rush in at every little complaint. Sometimes babies fuss briefly in their sleep and then settle themselves again. It helped me to set a timer, once they were old enough to have a sleep schedule, and see if they’d settle after five or ten minutes. If they didn’t, I’d go in quietly and repeat the last little piece of the bedtime ritual, a hand laid gently on them, a familiar prayer or song, a little pat, it was enough to remind them, Oh yes. It is still time to sleep.

But with a very young newborn, frequent waking and feeding are normal, so respond to their needs. There isn’t a problem just because your newborn wakes up!

You are both learning.

A Lesson I Learned the Hard Way

Now I have to tell you a funny story.

Breastfeeding during the night was always challenging because I could never remember which side I’d fed the baby on last. So I developed a system: I would lay my baby in the cradle with his head pointing in the direction of the side I needed to feed him on the next time.

When Blair was a baby, I fed him a lot during the night because he was a big and hungry baby.

One night, he woke up wailing to be fed again. Half asleep, I staggered toward the cradle, certain that I knew which direction his head was pointing because, of course, I had my wonderful system.

Apparently, somewhere along the way, my system, or rather, my memory, had failed. It was dark, and when I picked him up, I remember thinking that he felt very funny.

Then I realized that I had picked him up thinking his bottom was his head! This got him very quiet.

I was horrified when I realized how I was holding him. Fortunately, I had picked him up very gently, and he was nothing but a little surprised. So perhaps that was not the best method!

From then on, I put my baby’s head facing the same direction no matter which side I had fed them on. So the lesson is to develop the methods that actually help you remember what your very sleep-deprived brain is likely to forget!

Most of all, give yourself grace. Give your baby grace. You are learning each other.

For me, putting my babies to bed became one of the absolute sweetest bonding experiences of motherhood. I loved holding a fretful little baby and feeling the fretfulness slowly give way to peace. I loved feeling that little body relax against me and finally surrender itself to rest.

Because more than all the routines, schedules and naps, the real message that you are teaching is that: Mommy is here. You are safe. You are loved. You can rest. You can trust me.

And that, after all, is so much of what being a mommy is all about.

With all my love,

Mom

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Philippians 2:4

Dearest Daughters,

This week I’d like to discuss another element of having a newborn baby. Your husband is becoming a father just as you are becoming a mother, and this is a life-changing event in his life just as much as it is in yours.

You may not see this as easily as you see the changes in yourself, because he’s not the one who was pregnant with the baby nor gave birth. Neither is he the one breastfeeding the baby nor doing most of the work of changing, dressing, swaddling, and rocking.

But the internal change of knowing that this baby has been given to him by God is enormous. He is the main one who will wash you and the child in the Word of Christ, who will bear responsibility for the direction the family takes and for the eternal soul of this little one.

And beyond that, he has just watched you go through a birth—and in my experience, both as a mother and a midwife, this is one of the hardest things a man can watch.

So ask the Lord to give you empathy for his side of the picture.

He Is Becoming a Father Too!

Most men do not experience newborns in the same way that women do. The mommy wants to immediately touch the baby from head to toe, count their fingers and toes, observe their every movement, and compare it to how it felt when they were still inside the womb.

Men spend more time watching the mother with the baby and the way the baby responds to the mother, and vice versa, than they do actually examining the baby. They see the whole picture of the family coming together more than they get into those little newborns, who they sometimes even seem slightly frightened of, in my experience.

Yes, Daddy loved to hold all of you, but he enjoyed you more once you could play and giggle and be tickled and thrown in the air and things like that. The relationship developed later and slower than it did with me.

But what he loved in the newborn phase was watching you connect with me and me connect with you. I found him to be a little awkward with the brand-new babies, and I see this as very common with men.

Remember that your husband is becoming a father. This is happening to him at the same time that motherhood is happening to you.

Your husband is going to admire you greatly for having brought that baby into the world. Are you admiring him as much as he is admiring you?

Be sure to make a point to tell your husband, “You’re a father now. We made this baby together with God!” Show appreciation for him and for the place he now fills in the life of this little child.

Make room for your husband to get to know the baby.

Lay the baby between the two of you when you’re sitting in bed together, first thing in the morning or last thing at night, and point out the things the baby is doing. Tell your husband about the baby when he first looks at you or smiles at you.

Offer for him to hold the baby if he wants to, but do not impose it upon a brand-new father who’s not sure how to support the head and is a little afraid of breaking that fragile baby.

His relationship with the baby may not develop exactly as yours does. It may develop later and more slowly, but that does not mean it is less important. Give him room to become a father in his own way.

Protect Your Marriage While Your Family Changes

Remember, every person in the family has a place. Especially with first-time moms, your husband filled up almost all of the space of love and care in your heart. So when the baby is born, the place for the father shifts a bit in terms of your direct affection, physical touch, and love.

No human being can go through that transition without feeling it, and it’s important to remain emotionally connected through this time. Protect your marriage.

Any transition, any new relationship, will cause the relationships around it to feel shaky, so defend your love. Defend your intimacy.

Do not get so caught up with your own fatigue, your soreness, and tiredness that you do not pay attention to the relationships that will sustain you through those experiences.

Speak kindly, even when you’re exhausted. Show gratitude for every single act of love, affection, and service that your husband shows to you.

Affection and Intimacy After Birth

The postpartum period can be a little turbulent for physical intimacy with your spouse. You’re sore and tired and your hormones are all over the place. But don’t let this prevent you from showing love and affection, including physical affection, in ways that you can during this time. While it may look different than before the birth, there are still ways to express your affection, so don’t delete those just because you can’t resume everything immediately.

Take your time, express your needs and your fears, but don’t do nothing! Physical interaction is an affirmation of love and relationship, and you’d be surprised how easy it is once you decide to show it.

Self-sacrificing love is vital to marriage. That means you show love, even physical love, when you don’t feel it, and here is a time that you can do that within the the limitations of this season.

Demonstrate your love and affection and watch what happens. It will grow and flow again, like before and even better than before, if you actually take the step to express yourself when you feel it the least.

If you don’t feel as physically attuned and satisfied in your marriage as you did before, don’t panic! It’s okay. This is just called exhaustion and hormone fluctuation. It will pass!

So don’t be afraid. Just step out without fear, and show the love that a marriage needs to thrive, and in time you will experience everything you long for again.

Become Teammates, Not Scorekeepers

Become teammates in the raising of your new little baby.

Don’t ever be scorekeepers of how many times you got up or who changed a diaper. That isn’t the way relationships work. They aren’t added up numerically, but they fit together through strengths and weaknesses, through ebb and flow, through seasons that change.

There will be things you can do that your husband can’t do—at least not with the grace of a mother—just as there are things he does better than you. There will also be burdens he can carry for you when you are tired and depleted. You don’t need to make everything equal. You need to learn how to fit together.

And remember, though your husband can never nurse your baby, give him your heart to hold, because he will always be able to carry that.

With all my love,

Mom

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart; and lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.”
Proverbs 3:5–6

Dearest Daughters,

Last week we discussed the beauty of becoming a mother, the change of identity. I would like to continue along the vein of new babies and new mommies.

Everything wonderful and beautiful comes with its challenges, and babies are no different. So let’s talk about the immediate postpartum phase for a minute here. What is going on in your body, and what is going on in your baby?

Physical recovery from a birth is not something that should be taken lightly or flippantly. Now, every birth isn’t the same, and some births certainly require more time for physical recovery than others. But in all of them, even the easiest births, you need to pay attention, because more is going on than you realize.

That amazing wonder organ, the placenta, that has been present in your body for the past nine months, has just left. And this has more of a bearing on you than you might think.

The placenta is a marvel. It functions as so many organs for the baby. It takes the place of the lungs. It’s also the filter, functioning for the kidneys and the liver. It’s feeding the baby and doing the work of the digestive tract.

But what it does for you is that it produces estrogen and progesterone, two of the primary female hormones. And when that organ evacuates your body, your body literally drops off of a hormonal cliff!

This can cause anxiousness, night sweats, painful cramps, and intense mood swings. You might find yourself crying over everything and nothing.

I had a beautiful birth. I love my baby. Why am I crying? I’m so happy, yet I can’t stop crying!

Your kids come to visit, and you’re convinced that they hate you, that they have completely backslidden from every bit of training you’ve poured into them. You may look at your own body and think it’s ugly. And you’ve just metamorphosed into the local Dairy Queen! All these things may be whirling through your mind.

The feelings are real; I’ll acknowledge that. We can expect them, because the hormonal waterfall has just dried up in an instant!

However, the perspectives are not real.

So don’t take your thoughts and feelings too seriously in those first days and even weeks after a birth. This is all part of the process and probably God’s way of helping us to rest a little more.

Because on top of the hormonal crash, you’re exhausted. You’re getting up all night. You’re quite sore. Your body has just gone through an enormous physical event, and you’ve got that little baby to care for, so don’t become overwhelmed and despondent.

The Scriptures tell us that a woman will be “saved through childbearing.” I think that Scripture can mean a lot of things, but one of the things I’ve thought about is that childbearing can teach us to trust in God and in others—anything besides our own perspective—and we all need to learn to do that!

Someday we’re going to be old and feeble. We will then need even more trust for others and God. Postpartum changes can provide a meaningful step along our journey of increasing trust, teaching us to surrender in a new way. So don’t become defeated when you feel those attitudes and moods. Say to yourself, That’s my hormones talking.

Those hormonal changes can produce what some call “the baby blues”: the crying, the mood swings, anxiousness, and emotional vulnerability that are frequent in the first days after birth. But if those feelings become severe, or continue rather than beginning to dissipate, reach out for help. Some of these health struggles are difficult, and asking for help is part of learning to trust and to allowing yourself to be loved.

We can fortify ourselves during this vulnerable time by being prepared, by trusting others, and by binding satan. He loves to ride in on our weaknesses, on our hormones, on our fatigue, and we don’t have to let him.

Allow yourself to be cared for and loved by your friends and family. Accept help and embrace relationships, both in that season of postpartum recovery and ahead of time in anticipation of it.

Don’t be shy to reach out for help if you need it, to hear another perspective and another angle.

Drinking plenty of water is also vital during this period of time as your body adjusts, recovers, and, if you’re breastfeeding, begins producing milk. Plenty of rest is an absolute necessity.

Give yourself to your baby, to lying down and snuggling and just observing your beautiful new infant. Pay attention to their needs, to the changes in them. Admire them openly and speak peace into your own heart and into theirs.

And what’s going on in your baby? They’re learning to acclimate to a world outside of the womb!

They’ve gone from living surrounded by water, receiving oxygen through the placenta, to living in air and breathing with their own lungs. Their nervous system is still immature, which is why they’re constantly moving, startling, flailing their little arms, and sometimes slugging themselves in the face.

They haven’t yet learned what is day and what is night, so don’t get in a rush.

Help them make this transition as gently as possible, giving them a peaceful, dark night, soothing music to put them to sleep, your voice to bring them comfort, and breastfeeding to nourish them, comfort them, and help protect their developing immune system.

It’s really a lovely season, but everything lovely comes with a price, and it only makes it more valuable.

So don’t get caught in the mire of the challenges!

Look forward to the brand-new and beautiful relationship that is just beginning.

With all my love,
Mom

Dearest Daughters,

Well, today begins a new series! I’d like to spend the next few weeks talking about one of my favorite topics—babies!

The much loved Christmas song that we often sing says, A baby changes everything. I know it’s speaking of our Lord Jesus, but it’s drawn from what we all know is true of every baby.

I’d like to share something I wrote in A Time to Be Born about the life change I went through when you, Helen, were born:

And I was in love. But more than that, I felt like a window had opened, a light had come on, and I was seeing life and love in some ways for the first time. I was seeing myself for the first time—my own vulnerability, but also previously untapped strengths. I was seeing your dad—his empathy, his steadiness, his love—in ways I’d never seen before.

And every other identity seemed to shed off of me like an old skin. I was a mother.

In one moment, I had become a missionary, and the mission field was your heart, Helen. I had become a nurse, and my charge was to care for your little body and soul. I’d become a teacher, and my student was you. I’d become a prophetess, and the one who needed vision from me was you.

This was not the mundane drudgery I had once imagined motherhood to be, a thing you hurried through in your youth and strength so that someday you could go on to greater things. No, this was the GREAT thing. This was my calling, but even more, it had become who I was.

If I could say anything to mothers-to-be and brand-new moms, I would tell them: Embrace the identity.

Every time you cuddle that little infant, whisper to yourself, I am a mother. Every time you get up in the middle of the night for a feeding, let that sacrifice strip away every lesser identity as you enter into one of the highest callings He’s given humanity. Become your baby’s mother.

This brings me to a few practical thoughts.

Skin-to-skin contact is precious and important, especially in the first moments after birth. Hold your baby, and let them feel you, smell you, hear your heartbeat, and study your face. A newborn sees best at about fourteen to eighteen inches away, the perfect distance to gaze into the face of the one God has made to love them first—you!

Whenever possible, keep your newborn with you. You can swaddle them and hold them in your arms or carry them in a body wrap even while you accomplish other tasks. Those bonding hours are actually forming brain pathways, emotional security, and deep attachment that will shape their future life.

With you, Helen, I was never out of the same space with you until you were five months old. There have certainly been seasons with some of my other children when illness or circumstances required something different. Motherhood is full of unpredictable twists and turns, but as much as possible, I’ve tried to remain close to my babies, because I believe those hours together are among the most important (and wonderful) work we do.

Talk to your newborn from the very first day. Even though they don’t yet understand your words, they recognize your voice, understand your love, your delight, your comfort. Use different tones of voice. Laugh with them. Sing to them. Speak comfort and peace to them, and let them also hear joy in your voice. Even read to them! Long before they understand language, they are learning to love and be loved.

Breastfeeding is a wonderful bonding opportunity, so try not to miss a single feed. Notice their rooting and sucking cues. Even if they’re not hungry, they may be indicating that they need some bonding time.

Each cuddle, each feeding and each incoherent baby conversation is building the foundation of their little heart and their future life. You are constructing the emotional foundation upon which they will stand for the rest of their lives.

So try not rush through these early days! Hold them often, and speak to them constantly. Take immense joy in these brief moments of babyhood! And as you do, you are becoming their mother, just as they are growing into childhood.

With all my love,

Mom

“Above all, keep loving one another earnestly… Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another.”1 Peter 4:8-10

Dearest Daughters,

As we bring our six-week focus on housekeeping tips to a close, I want to leave you with one more practical skill, but above all, with a few final perspectives on homemaking itself.

The practical skill is one I learned years ago from Sink Reflections by the FlyLady. I may have altered it a bit over the past two decades, but this is the way I adapted it in my own home. She had much good advice, some which fit my lifestyle and some did not. But this one has been part of my housekeeping ever since.

Take two bags, one for trash and one for giving away to charity, Goodwill, or a neighbor. You might even add a third bag for a garage sale or fundraiser. Then set a timer for ten or fifteen minutes and head into the closet, dresser, pantry, or storage area you want to tackle. See how full you can get those bags before the timer rings.

I especially loved doing this in the fall with the children’s toys. Christmas was coming, relatives would soon be sending gifts, and I wanted their toy bins to have room to not overflow! I’d quickly gather broken toys for the trash, toys they had long outgrown or no longer enjoyed for the giveaway bag, and occasionally a few nicer items for a garage sale.

It was amazing how much lighter the room felt simply from removing the excess!

Although I usually set the timer for only ten or fifteen minutes, I often found myself finishing the entire project, or at least accomplishing far more than I expected.

The same method worked beautifully with my own closet. Perhaps not the entire closet at once, but one section at a time. One day the dresser drawers. Another day the upper shelf. Another day the hanging clothes. Pull everything out, don’t be afraid of the temporary mess, and sort quickly into the three bags.

You’d be surprised how much can be accomplished in fifteen focused minutes. An entire child’s dresser can often be finished in that time. I found I could usually do about a quarter of my own closet, and since Dad and I share one closet, that meant nearly half of one person’s belongings. Two short sessions in a day, and most of the closet was finished.

I’ve even used this method in the pantry, the kitchen cupboards, and storage sheds. It’s a wonderfully refreshing way to declutter without feeling overwhelmed.

But now, let me leave you with what matters most. Do not look at housekeeping as a job to get through. Look at it as membership in a community of homemakers—a community you have the privilege of joining.

It may take a little Olympic training to reach your goals, but you made it into the club. Hallelujah!

Homemaking is not about who has the cleanest house or the prettiest decorations, but about who has created a home: a place of peace, love, welcome, and belonging.

Ironically, when that becomes your goal, your house often becomes cleaner as well. More importantly, it becomes a place where your husband can rest, your children can flourish, and your guests can find peace and friendship.

And please, never compare yourselves among yourselves. As I mentioned in an earlier letter, there are seasons when homes are naturally more cluttered than others. A house full of toddlers may stay tidy for only a few moments at a time, perhaps only while everyone is asleep. An empty nest may remain orderly for days, but both can be beautiful seasons.

Do not judge your sisters, and they will not judge you. Instead, build a sisterhood, a community of homemakers who encourage and support one another through every season of life.

I think of the words of that wonderful song:

“All of my life, in every season, You are still God. I have a reason to sing. I have a reason to worship.”

Let Him be Lord of every season, of the attitudes and the atmosphere of your home, and in time He will also become Lord of the tidiness, the meals, the schedule, and the countless ordinary tasks that make up a faithful life, because you are on a journey with Him, and the goal is up ahead!

I love you all.

I pray you discover the deep joy that can only be found in making a true home.

Welcome to the community of homemakers!

Love,
Mom

“They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.” Acts 2:46

Dearest Daughters,

Well, here we are at week five of our six weeks of housekeeping tips. Today I’d like to talk about meal planning.

Now, for me, cooking is an art, and one that I truly love. There have been many evenings when I’ve cooked simply because it relaxes me. As I’ve gotten older, standing for long periods has become a bit harder on my back, so I tend to cook in shorter bursts now. Even so, I recognize that my perspective may be different from someone who finds cooking intimidating or exhausting.

The truth is, I’ve had those times, too. There were seasons when I was homeschooling three children while simultaneously raising three preschoolers. During those years, simply getting everyone fed and through the day felt like an accomplishment. So today I’d especially like to speak to those seasons, because they are often the ones in which we need the most encouragement.

The first thing I want you to remember is this:

Meals are memories.

Yes, people may remember the savory soup or the fluffy, fresh bread. But far more than the food itself, they will remember the feeling around the table. Was there laughter? Was there peace? Did they feel welcomed and loved?

So make that your primary goal. Come to the table with joy even for beans and rice! Come with gratitude, when there are only PBJs! And if simplifying the meal allows you to preserve a peaceful spirit, then simplify the meal. A simple supper served with love is far better than a complicated feast served with frustration and anxiety.

After that, yes, make the food tasty. And make it beautiful if you’re able, because beauty is one of God’s gifts and an expression of Him. But those are secondary goals. Relationship and love come first.

Meal planning is essential, especially during busy school seasons.

Once a week, sit down and make a menu for that week. Even if you don’t follow it perfectly, you’ll know what ingredients you need and won’t spend every afternoon wondering what to make.

Personally, I like a little flexibility. I often planned only four meals and left the other three days open for leftovers, unexpected company, or whatever happened to be coming in from the garden. Whether you plan four days or seven, simply having a plan removes an enormous amount of daily stress.

Whenever possible, think about tomorrow’s meal the night before. Take meat out of the freezer. Grind your wheat if you mill your own flour. Prepare whatever you can ahead of time.

Then remember that preparing meals is also part of breaking bread together.

The Bible doesn’t simply tell us to eat together. It tells us to “break bread” together. There’s something beautiful about the family taking part in the preparation.

I love setting a toddler on the counter with a little lump of dough. My toddlers rolled out many funny-looking biscuits or pie crusts over the years, and although they certainly weren’t perfect, they were “helping,” and making memories. Another child could grate cheese, and another wash vegetables while another can stand at the sink and wash dishes.

While dinner was coming together, so were relationships!

Instead of asking, How can I get this meal finished as quickly as possible? maybe ask, How many memories can we make and relationships can we build while we prepare it?

A friend of mine recently suggested having a regular breakfast assigned to each day of the week—granola on Monday, bagels on Tuesday, waffles on Wednesday, and so on. I never fully adopted that system, but I think it’s an excellent idea.

We did have our traditions. Saturday was “Pancake Saturday.” When our church services were in the afternoon, Sunday was “Brunch Sunday.”

We kept breakfasts simple for school mornings: homemade granola with yogurt, oatmeal, or bagels with cream cheese. They were nourishing, quick to prepare, easy to clean up afterward, and simple enough that you children could gradually learn to make them yourselves.

Simple breakfasts make wonderful training grounds for young cooks! A child can learn to stir oatmeal, toast bagels, scramble eggs, or flip pancakes long before they’re ready to prepare an entire dinner.

When it comes to company meals, I enjoy putting in a little extra thought. This doesn’t necessarily mean making something complicated. In fact, I think simple meals are often the best for larger crowds.

A pot of chili becomes something special when served with warm corn muffins, a crisp green salad, a sprinkle of cheese and cilantro, a wedge of lime resting on the edge of the bowl, and perhaps a roasted pepper garnish adding a splash of color. Those little touches tell your guests, You mattered enough for me to think about this.

When cooking for a large crowd, don’t hesitate to let others help. People often enjoy contributing. Let them bring the simple, inexpensive parts of the meal so they don’t feel burdened, and allow yourself to receive their kindness. Hospitality isn’t always best carried on one set of shoulders!

Finally, add thoughtful details like lighting a candle. Perhaps lay a flower across the table. Fold your napkins nicely. Use cloth napkin rings if you have them. None of these things are expensive or difficult, but they communicate care. In the end, that’s what hospitality has always been about: building relationships and making memories.

This is breaking bread together. Don’t ever forget that!

I love you!

Mom

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1

Dearest Daughters,

As we continue our journey through housekeeping tips, tools, and graces, I thought I’d tackle a few more today: scheduling, deep cleaning closets and drawers, and quick cleanups with the kids.

When I first got married, I loved to schedule every minute of the day, every day of the week, and every week of the month. I think putting it all down on paper somehow made me feel in control of everything.

The problem is, when you schedule every fifteen minutes and you are a midwife, a pastor’s wife, growing a garden, raising animals, and raising lots of little children, you discover you’re a failure every fifteen minutes, because life doesn’t fit into fifteen-minute boxes!

There may be places and seasons for scheduling every fifteen minutes, but a full family life in an agrarian lifestyle doesn’t seem to be one of them, as far as I can tell.

As long as I had that schedule in place, I felt like a failure, and I also felt I was giving you children the impression that you were failures.

“It’s 8:15, and we don’t have the laundry on the next load yet.” Well, it wasn’t quite dry yet. And on and on it went.

One day I had a revelation. Our days really revolved around landmark moments. Breakfast at 8:00. Family devotions at 8:30. Lunch at 1:00. Dinner at 6:00. Bedtime at 8:30. Those were the anchors of the day. Instead of piecemeal scheduling, I began saying, “We want this much accomplished by breakfast.”

Everyone should come to breakfast with beds made, hair combed, teeth brushed, and animal chores finished. Everyone should come to family devotions with their places cleared from the table. By lunchtime, we accomplished family reading, Bible, math, and spelling.

During nap time, I worked one-on-one with the high school students. Before bed, we all tidied the rooms.

This method of scheduling brought so much more grace and flexibility to our home. It even gave the older children more responsibility to organize the spaces between those landmark moments in whatever way suited them best.

As they grew older, I would even give them entire weeks. As long as they appeared faithfully at those landmark moments and had completed a certain lesson in math or another assignment by week’s end, they could organize their time however they wished.

The more responsibility they demonstrated, the more responsibility I gave.

Another thing that brought grace to me was realizing that deep cleaning didn’t all have to happen twice a year in one exhausting marathon.

Instead, as we moved toward those seasons, I would look for opportunities to deep clean one drawer or one section of a closet.

As a midwife, healthcare provider, and pastor’s wife, I’ve spent a great deal of time on the phone, but I didn’t want that to deprive my housekeeping. So I would set the phone on speaker beside me on the bed, pull open a drawer, and dump out its contents while I talked. By the time the conversation ended, one little corner of the house had been restored to order.

It was a freeing realization that two good things could happen at once!

Another quick cleanup tool came recently from a dear friend of mine, Becca Groves.

Whenever she needed the kitchen, living room, or schoolroom picked up quickly, she would gather all the children together and secretly choose one item among the clutter to be the prize item. Whoever happened to pick up that item would receive a reward—a little money prize or some other treat. No one knew which object it was.

Was it the glue? The scissors? The notebook? The shoe? The sock?

Since no one knew, everyone eagerly picked up as many things as they possibly could.

At the end she would announce, “The prize item was the scissors!” or “The prize item was the notebook!” Whoever had picked it up won the prize.

I thought that was such a clever idea.

I’ve played similar games with you children over the years. Sometimes we’d simply see who could pick up the most things.

Other times I’d divide the jobs.

“Ari, you put away all the toys.”

“Nicolas, you put away all the laundry.”

“I’ll, gather all the books.”

Then we’d race to see who finished first.

Little games like these help make housekeeping feel more like family fun than chores, because after all, that’s really the goal. That we would be a family. That we would work together.

God has given us all these ordinary responsibilities as places where we can meet Him, connect one to another, and discover Him in His creation.

So let’s not forget what it’s all about.

With all my love,

Mom

By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures. Proverbs 24:3–4

Dearest Daughters,

As we continue our journey through housekeeping, solutions, and graces, I think there is a perspective that must change in each of us, and if it does, it greatly simplifies both family life and housekeeping.

To put it simply, running a household is not a linear thing. It’s a spatial and relational thing.

In other words, you can’t simply make a list numbered “one, two, three” and expect to accomplish everything in that order. If you look at your day that way, your list will stretch a mile long, and if you believe you must finish one thing before beginning the next, your work will never end.

A household simply doesn’t function like that, any more than a human body could function by lining up all its parts in a row. Everything works together.

I can’t tell you how many spelling tests or dictation lessons I’ve given while kneading a loaf of bread or chopping carrots. I don’t have to finish one before I begin the other.

In reality, far more than a spelling test and chopping vegetables are taking place. A relationship is growing between a mother and her child. The child may be subconsciously learning to cook. Methods of cleaning are being observed as I wipe down the counter. A toddler may be playing quietly at my feet, learning patience while I teach an older sibling. Meanwhile, a loaf of bread is already baking in the oven, and a pot of water is coming to a boil for noodles on the stove.

When we learn to see how many good things can happen simultaneously, life becomes simpler—much, much simpler.

So before I give you a few practical suggestions, stop for just a moment and ask yourself:

How many good things could be happening simultaneously in this very moment?

If you only have five minutes and company is coming, as has often happened to me, don’t panic. Dad’s office is only five minutes away, and more than once he has met someone, invited them to dinner or to stop in, on the spot, and then called to let me know they were on their way.

First, remember what I shared in my last letter. Try to keep your living room reasonably tidy. But even if it isn’t, don’t despair. Clear the floor. Wipe off the table. Fluff the couch cushions. Open the curtains. Slip into the bathroom and quickly wipe down the sink and toilet.

Your guests usually won’t notice perfection. They will notice peace or the absence of it. If your own heart is at peace and your home feels welcoming, that’s the impression they will leave with.

Another habit that has transformed my housekeeping is this: Never leave a room empty-handed.

I have intentionally trained myself to do this. Every time I enter a room, I glance around before I leave. If I walk into my bedroom, I straighten the pillows or smooth the throw. If laundry is waiting to be put away, I carry it with me. If I step into the bathroom and notice a toothbrush lying on the counter, I put it back. A pair of shoes, a cup, a book—these little things accumulate over time. But if you are constantly putting them away, they never become overwhelming. Instead, your house grows more orderly as the day goes on.

Simple habits truly can change your life.

Another little trick that has helped me tremendously is keeping the cleaning supplies I use most where I actually need them.

There were so many times I noticed the bathroom counter needed wiping, but because the cleaner or cloth wasn’t nearby, I simply moved on. So I started keeping Windex, a roll of paper towels, and a microfiber cloth under each bathroom sink. Now, whenever I notice the counter needs attention, I wipe it down immediately. It takes less than a minute, and the job is finished before it has time to become another item on my mental list.

Having the right tools in the right place often makes the difference between a job being done and a job waiting until tomorrow.

But above all, remember this: Your goal is peace, not perfection.

I remember a story an older sister shared at a ladies’ gathering when I was newly married. She told us about a marriage workshop she and her husband had attended early in their relationship. One of the questions asked of the husbands was something like this:

“Which would you rather come home to: clean floors, sparkling windows and dinner on the table, or your wife singing?”

She smiled as she told us that she had assumed her husband would choose the meal waiting on the table.

Instead, he chose his wife singing.

That story got my attention. Like her, I would have assumed that all the other things should come first. But over the years I discovered that it wasn’t really about singing. It was about joy.

When I intentionally prepared to welcome my husband home with a cheerful heart, I actually found that I also tended to accomplish the work more effectively throughout the day. But when I focused only on getting everything finished before he arrived, I often became hurried, anxious, and frustrated. Joy really did make the work lighter and faster! So focus first on your attitude! And, I would add, the attitudes of your children.

You may find that not only is your home more peaceful, but somehow your work becomes easier and more quickly accomplished as well.

With all my love,

Mom

“Moreover it is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful.” —1 Corinthians 4:2

Dearest Daughters,

Last week we talked about setting some clear housekeeping standards, particularly in terms of dishes, laundry, and the spaces we reserve for hospitality.

I think there’s an easy pattern that young mothers (including myself, at one time) often fall into. I’ll call it yo-yo housekeeping.

We know we can’t keep up with the house the way we’d like during a season of little children, so we allow things to pile up. We tell ourselves we’ll get to it later, and then at some point we can no longer stand it. The house feels completely out of control, and suddenly we launch into a cleaning frenzy—every closet, every drawer, every nook and cranny, and probably turmoil for the whole family.

And for a day or two everything feels wonderful. But then life happens again, the children continue being children, and before long we are right back where we started.

I’ve found this to be a fatal method of housekeeping because you spend most of your life feeling behind. The house is either in crisis or in recovery, but seldom at peace.

So what do you do?

I’m speaking particularly to the season when you have lots of little people in the house—little wreckers who seem capable of undoing twenty minutes of work in twenty seconds.

The important thing to realize is that everything doesn’t need to be perfect at all times. What matters is deciding what can and should be accomplished during this particular season of life and becoming consistent with that.

For me, one priority was always the living room. I wanted it to be a place where, if someone knocked on the door unexpectedly, I could happily invite them in without embarrassment. Being hospitable mattered to me because it’s by our love for one another that the world knows we follow Jesus, not by our housekeeping.

Did I expect the toddler’s bedroom to look like the living room all day? Not at all.

The standard I chose for that room in that season was simply this: once each day the room would be clean.

That one decision brought grace to me. Instead of feeling anxious every time I walked into a room strewn with toys, I accepted that children play. There would be messes in the toddler’s room, in the kitchen, and in the schoolroom. But every evening those rooms would once again become orderly.

Helen, you probably remember our nightly clean-up races. We’d gather every toy, tighten the beds, arrange the stuffed animals, and race to see who could finish first. The reward was story time with Mommy or Daddy. Cleaning became part of the family fun and rhythm of the day rather than a dreaded punishment.

I also didn’t expect you children to clean the room the way I would. About once a week I did a more thorough “Mommy cleaning,” and twice a year, usually in the spring and fall, we did a serious deep cleaning: moving furniture, changing seasonal clothes, reorganizing closets, and starting fresh.

The same principle applied to drawers. When I was first married, I wanted every drawer to stay perfectly folded and organized, but if I wanted my children to help put away the laundry, I had to make success attainable. So I lowered the standard without abandoning it.

Drawer dividers became wonderful little teachers. As long as the socks stayed in the sock section, the underwear in its section, and everything ended up in the correct drawer, I considered that a success.

As the children grew, the standard gradually rose. That, I think, is one of the great secrets of homemaking. Better to have a realistic standard and keep it, than no standard at all. Standards can always be raised. But when everything is random, disorder slowly becomes normal, and little by little the whole house begins to unravel. We must view our housekeeping as a journey, always getting closer to the goal.

One lesson that became vitally important to me throughout all my housekeeping years was this: never allow housekeeping and relationships to become opponents. Biblically, relationships are the priority. If we aren’t careful, we can become like Martha—so busy serving that we miss the greatest things. A clean house is important, but it should never come at the expense of the people living inside it.

The first time I truly learned this was while we were doing mission work in Brazil. You oldest three children were still very small. Helen, you were only five, and Blair and Andrew were younger still.

In those days, my method of cleaning was simple. I sent all of you outside to play while I swept, mopped, wiped, and straightened the house. Then, when you came back inside, I found myself scolding, scolding, scolding lest anyone touch what I had just cleaned.

During that season, a dear friend came with us to help while Dad and I were busy with Bible studies and teaching. She wasn’t merely a beloved babysitter; she became a treasured friend.

I began noticing the way she worked with you. She let you wipe windows, even though they often had to be wiped again afterward. She stood you on chairs to help wash dishes, even though an occasional plate still had food clinging to it. We had to wash our laundry by hand, and she would set little Andrew right into the washtub, where he splashed happily among the clothes while she washed.

Those kinds of messes would have made me cringe. But they also filled the house with laughter. Watching this young woman changed me.

Did the house get cleaner because you were “helping”? No. It probably wasn’t as spotless as when I did everything myself. But love was growing; memories were being made. You were learning skills that would stick with you for the rest of your lives. I realized that inviting children into the work of the home is often more important than accomplishing the work perfectly.

This is also why it is so important that we resist judging our friends and sisters by the appearance of their homes. We rarely know what season they are living in. We don’t know what burdens they are carrying, what lessons they are teaching, or what memories they are choosing to make. What may look like disorder to us may actually be a home filled with instruction, laughter, and love.

So when we step into another woman’s home, let us come as servants, not as judges. Let us be quick to encourage, quick to lend a hand, and slow to compare. Grace can strengthen weary hands far more than criticism ever will.

Don’t be discouraged because your home doesn’t yet look like the home of a woman whose youngest child is eighteen. Build the habits that fit today’s season. Be faithful there, and one day you’ll discover that the standards you practiced for years have grown and matured along with your family.

Faithfulness is built one ordinary day and one good habit at a time.

With all my love,

Mom

“Let all things be done decently and in order.”
(1 Cor. 14:40)

Dearest Daughters,

Well, here we go, beginning a new year of Dearest Daughters letters. I thought I would start by talking about some of the tricks, tips, and helps I’ve learned in housekeeping over the years.

In my very first letter to you a year ago, I talked about how motherhood is like a dance. I really meant that. To me, it’s still the image that most captures what it means to be a wife, mother, homemaker, and all the other things God may call us to be. There are many steps in the dance, and no two are exactly alike. The rhythm may change, the song may change, and we must bow, bend, step to the side, step back, and step forward in time with the music.

Homemaking is much the same. There are seasons when it comes more easily and seasons when it doesn’t. As your families grow and your responsibilities expand, you will discover that keeping a home orderly is not simply a matter of wanting to do it. It requires patterns, habits, and systems that help carry the load when life becomes full.

I’m blessed to see all of you keeping your homes well, at least from the times I’ve spent with you. Some of you are better at it than I am, but there have certainly been seasons when I’ve done better and seasons when I’ve done worse. I love a clean home, an orderly home, and a beautiful home, and I really dislike clutter. When I got married, I confidently told myself that my house would never be messy or dirty. It was a lesson in humility to discover that good intentions alone do not keep a house!

I’ll tell you the story of when I first realized that simply deciding to do something was not enough.

Helen, you were only a week old.

I had nothing to wear that fit properly after your birth, and I was realizing that losing the baby weight did not necessarily mean fitting back into my pre-pregnancy clothes, at least not right away. Prior to your birth, I had kept an immaculate house. After you arrived, it seemed as though all I ever did was feed you, change you, prepare meals, clean them up, make laundry piles ten times larger than Dad and I had ever produced, and then try to find time to wash, fold, and put everything away again.

One day, right before lunch, I was trying to find something to wear because we had an event to attend. After trying on about the ninth outfit and tossing it onto the couch in frustration, I heard a knock at the door.

I nearly had a heart attack.

My hair was a mess. Nine outfits were draped across the couch. A load of unfolded laundry sat in a chair. Breakfast dishes were still in the sink.

Then the knock came again.

What do you do?

I gathered up the pile of clothes from the couch, wadded them into my arms, tossed them onto my bed, and hurried back to answer the door. It was my parents and some relatives of my dad’s. I couldn’t believe it!

“Sorry to drop in unannounced,” Dad said, “but we were driving by, and I thought they would enjoy seeing your wedding furniture.”

Several family members had made beautiful furniture for us as wedding gifts. Your Uncle Abraham and some of Dad’s friends had made our coffee table, rocking chair, bed, dresser, and nightstands. Your Uncle Philip had made our dining table and chairs.

Then Dad added the fatal words:

“I knew you always kept an immaculate house, so I figured it wouldn’t alarm you too much.”

I laughed weakly.

“A baby has changed that,” I said.

Everyone was gracious, but when they stepped inside, I could see the surprise on my parents’ faces. Not only did they tour the living room, but one of the ladies wanted to see the bedroom furniture as well. After they finally left, I flopped onto the couch and covered my face with my hand. Oh, no!

I was going to have to establish some patterns and rules for myself because this couldn’t happen again. I’m still cringing about it twenty-eight years later.

That day, I made a few decisions. First, I would not do laundry in the living room. The living room would remain a sanctuary. No piles of laundry. No household clutter.

Later this developed even further. I don’t generally allow children to play in the living room unless they are playing there with their parents. Toys belong in designated play spaces. The purpose of this rule isn’t rigidity but hospitality. I want to be able to welcome company into my living room without first needing thirty minutes to make it presentable.

Second, I made a rule that I would never go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.

Third, I’d never leave the house with dirty dishes in the sink unless there was a genuine emergency.

Those simple habits helped me enormously.

The lesson was not really about laundry or dishes but that good intentions are rarely enough. Homes are generally not kept by inspiration but by patterns.

Scripture tells us that everything should be done decently and in order. It has always struck me that when the disciples entered the empty tomb, they found the grave clothes lying there and the face cloth folded separately. There was order even in the midst of the greatest miracle in history. I figured that if there could be order in an empty tomb on resurrection morning, there ought to be some order in my laundry basket as well.

During different seasons, I’ve handled laundry in different ways. As you children grew older, I taught you to fold and put away your own clothes. But during that season with a newborn, I folded everything immediately as it came off the clothesline or out of the dryer and placed it directly into a basket ready to carry to the drawers. It was one less pile to create and one less pile to conquer later.

Over the years I’ve learned dozens of little habits, tricks, and systems that have helped me care for a home and family. Some were learned from wise women; others came through trial and error. And some came through embarrassing moments such as the one I just told you about.

Over the next few months, I’d like to share more of these with you. Take what is useful, discard what is not, and adapt the rest to your own homes and personalities.

The goal is not perfection but to create a place of peace, welcome, beauty, and provision for the people God has entrusted to your care.

With all my love,

Mom

“One generation shall praise thy works to another, and shall declare thy mighty acts.”
(Ps 145:4)

Dearest daughters,

Well, this is the 52nd letter—an entire year of Dearest Daughters letters!

I hope these letters have been as much of a blessing to you as they have been to me. Taking my thoughts, putting them into words, and sharing them with you each week has been a transforming experience. As I write, I picture each of you and the different seasons you are walking through, and I hope that somewhere along the way these letters have been inspiring, encouraging, or helpful in your own journeys as wives and mothers.

I wanted to give you a little glimpse of what I am planning going forward.

I have begun the process of turning these first 52 letters into a devotional, which I hope you will enjoy. My vision is for it to be both a devotional and a prayer journal, a place for reflection as well as encouragement. Lord willing, it will be ready this fall, and I’m very excited about it.

As I look ahead to the next year of letters, I find myself wanting to move into some very practical areas of wifehood, motherhood, and homemaking.

My initial thought is to spend six weeks on practical homemaking, six weeks on newborn and baby care, six weeks on toddlers and preschoolers, six weeks on beginning school, six weeks on family schooling, six weeks on the teenage years, and six weeks on navigating relationships with married children.

That still leaves room for additional topics, and before I begin, I would love to hear from you.

What specific subjects would you like me to address within those categories? Are there other categories you would like included? What questions do you find yourself asking as wives, mothers, homemakers, and women seeking the kingdom of God in your homes?

Your feedback would be wonderful and would help shape the direction of the coming year’s letters.

I would also love to hear from other mothers who may eventually read these letters. If you feel comfortable, perhaps you could leave a comment on my Substack page beneath this letter and help get the conversation started. Of course, if you’d rather respond privately, that’s perfectly fine, too.

Before we close out this first year together, I want to leave you with a poem I wrote for you:

If You Are A Mother…

If you’ve awakened in the night
to the grunts of your baby,
fed them and turned them,
yet lingered a moment longer
because you couldn’t bear to lay them back down,
then you are a mother.

If you’ve stayed awake in wonder,
just to marvel,
just to weep over the wisps of breath
upon a silky cheek,
then you are a mother.

If you’ve picked up the messes,
wiped away the grime,
and still found yourself smiling
at some point each and every day,
then you are a mother.

If you’ve been vomited on and cried on,
plastered with slobbery kisses,
and simply wiped it off again with a laugh,
then you are a mother.

If you’ve embraced every moment—
the sunshine and play,
but also the chaos
that shatters your day—
then you are a mother.

If you’ve disciplined your child,
then hidden away to weep,
yet still kept doing
what would keep him safe,
then you are a mother.

If you’ve lain awake at night
repenting again and again,
yet risen in the morning
to do it all over once more,
then you are a mother.

If you’ve tried and you’ve tried
and you’ve failed,
yet left a trail—
even a broken one—
for those who come behind,
then you are a mother.

If you’ve loved beyond your strength,
prayed beyond your wisdom,
given more than you thought you had,
and risen each morning
to surrender once more,
then you are a mother.

Not because you did it perfectly.

Not because you never failed.

But because you loved.

You are a mother.

As I watch your lives unfold, I see that those of you who have children are becoming mothers, not simply by giving birth, but through the daily laying down of your lives in love.

And that brings joy to my soul more than I can adequately express.

With all my love,

Mom

Dearest Daughters,

Scripture tells us, “This is the victory that overcomes the world—even our faith.” (1 John 5:4)

If faith is the victory that overcomes the world, then it seems that if we’re looking for victory in life, we ought to practice faith and come to a deeper understanding of what it truly means.

I believe that if faith is the victory that overcomes the world, then certainly it can also be the victory that overcomes fear, anxiety, discouragement, and the daily troubles of life.

Whenever I’m not feeling victory in some sphere of life, I often ask myself: Is this simply the challenges of life or is there a lack of faith?

If the house feels chaotic and lacking peace, perhaps I don’t have enough faith.

If there’s tension in my marriage, perhaps faith is running short.

If I seem unable to gain forward momentum with a toddler, where is the faith?

If I can’t seem to connect with a teenager, perhaps faith is the shortfall. When I encounter these difficulties, one of the first places I should look is whether I am responding in faith.

So let’s examine faith. I think the definition of faith in Christian circles is often diluted until it becomes little more than mental agreement that God is God. But biblical faith is quite different. Biblical faith always produces action. Hebrews 11 describes faith in vivid terms. Noah, having faith, built an ark. Abraham, having faith, left his country. Moses, having faith, chose to suffer with the people of God. Again and again, faith moved someone to act.

And when we look at the passage where the disciples ask the Lord, “Increase our faith,” in Luke 17, we find something very interesting.

Jesus has just told them that they must forgive—not merely once or twice, but over and over again. In response they cry out, “Lord, increase our faith!”

Jesus first tells them that if they have faith as a grain of mustard seed, they can say to a tree, “Be uprooted and planted in the sea,” and it will obey them.

But then He immediately tells what seems at first to be an unrelated parable. He speaks of a servant who has spent the day laboring in the field. When he returns home, the master does not tell him to sit down and rest. Instead, the servant prepares the master’s meal and continues serving. And after doing so, he simply says, “We are unprofitable servants. We have done only what was our duty to do.”

Somehow, this story is part of Jesus’ answer to their request for greater faith.

I have often thought about that. When I lie in bed at night after a long and taxing day, my mind wanders back through the hours. If I’ve simply done what I know was required of me before God as a wife, mother, homemaker, or friend, there’s a certain satisfaction in that.

But there is a different feeling altogether when I have responded to the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

When I have reached out to encourage someone.

When I have written a note.

When I have given a gift.

When I have made a meal or a phone call.

When I have gone beyond what was merely required of me.

Those are the days when I feel as though I have stepped into a rushing current. New ideas come. New energy comes, and above all, joy comes. And what is remarkable is that whenever I step beyond myself in faith, God often sends something back in return.

It’s like casting out a tiny seed and watching it spring up into a tree. The encouragement returned. There are unexpected blessings, and I find renewed sense of purpose. There is deep joy that comes from knowing God moved through me in some small way.

Faith seems to grow from faith and glory grows from glory. When you give faith away, it somehow reflects back to you. When you extend courage, hope, kindness, and love to others, the radiance of God shines both through you and then back upon you. Faith becomes contagious.

So if you find yourself falling short, if victory seems absent in some area of your life, ask the Lord as the disciples did:

“Lord, increase my faith.”

And then look for an opportunity to go beyond the call of duty. Do something that requires you to step outside of yourself. Encourage someone. Forgive someone. Serve someone. Bless someone. Take one small step of faith, and then watch what God does.

I challenge you to see whether you do not find more victory, more faith, and more momentum than you had yesterday. Let us walk in the victory that overcomes the world. The victory that overcomes fear. The victory that overcomes doubt. The victory that overcomes the cranky toddler. The victory that overcomes the despondent teenager. The victory that overcomes selfishness and brings the radiant glory of God into the world.

With all my love,

Mom

“Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” (Gal. 6:9)

Dearest daughters,

Today, Dad and I are celebrating twenty-nine years of marriage.

I remember this day vividly, twenty-nine years ago, the awe, the fear, even the trembling I felt in my soul as I prepared to make such a momentous, lifelong decision. Was my perspective truly right? Was my love what it needed to be? Above all, I did not want to let Dad or God down.

I knew Dad saw more in me than I even believed myself to be. And I knew God was counting on me to be a reflection of His love.

My mom was busy preparing my little sister for the wedding in my bedroom, so I spent that morning in my brother’s bedroom, praying, pacing the floor, getting down on my knees.

“God, help me to do this,” I prayed. “Help me to bring glory to You in this marriage. Don’t let my shortfalls change the trajectory You have for my life.”

There was such a weighty feeling that morning. But the moment I made that commitment with my mouth—“I do take this man to be my husband, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health”—it was as if those words cut through the cloud of heaviness, and I saw the light of love like never before.

Now, twenty-nine years later, I realize I was only barely seeing a glimmer of the shine our love would become. It has only grown brighter.

Not one single day has gone by that I have not repeatedly declared my love to your father, and he to me. And it is my wish and prayer that each of you will have a marriage like Dad and I have had.

Our marriage has far exceeded my expectations, and I owe this in part to my own father, who told me from the beginning, “Marriage will not be about you. If you go into it to see what you can get out of it, you will be disappointed. Marriage will be about God being made more visible through your union, through your overcoming, through the way you work through your trials. And it will take a lot of work.”

So I came into marriage expecting a challenge. And because of that, I found the challenges to be part of the adventure.

Let me give you an analogy.

If I go down to the car to leave, running late for church, and realize I have left my keys upstairs in the bedroom of our large farmhouse, I resent every step back through that house. I resent that my bedroom is upstairs. I resent every step back down. It all takes longer. It’s all an inconvenience to me getting on my way. The stairs and the house itself become adversaries to my purpose.

But if I am preparing to take a beautiful alpine mountain hike with your father in a month, I count every step. I am thrilled that my bedroom is upstairs and that our house sits at the top of a hill. I take every step as preparation, as a challenge making me more fit for my goal.

This is the attitude that will shape your marriage.

If our attitude is that everything is a hindrance to our own purposes, then every request, every difference of viewpoint, every need in our spouse or children will begin to feel like they’re in the way of our life and our agenda. And little by little, we will begin to resent our marriage.

But if we believe marriage is a chance to prove to the enemy that love triumphs, then every difference of opinion, every inconvenience, every sorrow becomes a chance, an exercise. It becomes a stairway to climb in preparation for standing on the mountain that declares love will triumph over hate, life over death, and that we are part of the winning team.

So may you view each day of your marriage as steps preparing you for the mountain view, not as inconveniences keeping you from the journey of your own independent life.

May you be blessed with a marriage like mine.

May you hear love from your spouse every day, and may you give it every hour, so that on your twenty-ninth anniversary, you can say with me:

I would do it all over again!

And though I was head over heels in love on day one, I barely knew what love was compared to what I feel today.

With all my love,
Mom

But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory. (2 Cor. 3:18)

Dearest Daughters,

I recently had a conversation with an Alaskan man that got my attention. He was talking about the constant problem people in Alaska, and in many northern countries, have with a vitamin D deficiency in their bodies.

Vitamin D is the vitamin our bodies get by regular exposure to sunlight. It’s absorbed through watching a sunset or sunrise, and by simply living in the sun. This vitamin helps the body absorb calcium and strengthens the bones, muscles, and teeth, and it even contributes to our emotional well-being. However, after long months of dark winters, especially in places where the sun barely peeks above the horizon for an hour or two each day, many people become depressed, weak, exhausted, and feel physically depleted. Some even develop bone disorders that cause their bones to be brittle and fragile. What struck me was that even many people who are very health conscious and faithfully take their vitamin D supplements, still discover, through bloodwork, that they are vitamin D deficient!

And interestingly, vitamin D deficiency is becoming increasingly common even in places filled with sunshine, simply because so many people spend enormous amounts of time indoors, on screens, without regular natural light.

But it especially affects the far north after long winters. This got me thinking about spiritual life, because we need light both naturally and spiritually.

Naturally, light strengthens us. It lifts our mood, strengthens muscles and bones, and keeps us from becoming brittle and injury-prone. Without enough light, people become weak.

I believe that spiritually speaking, the same thing can happen. Jesus so often used things in the physical world like light, bread, water, the body, ligaments, joints, sight, blindness, fruit and seed to describe spiritual elements.

So what is “light” according to Scripture? One of the primary ways we receive light is through the Word of God. “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Ps. 119:105)

So it’s the Word of God that brings light into dark places. And I don’t believe this refers only to our own private reading of Scripture, though that is definitely essential. I also believe it includes the living and active Word preached through those whom God sends to us.

As Romans says:

“The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart” (that is, the word of faith which we preach). (Rom. 10:8)

Faith is ignited when the Word comes alive through those God sends us, then enters our hearts, and begins to come forth from our own mouths also.

This is why it is so important to know that we have spiritually situated ourselves where we have access to this Word. We need to be in places where the Word of God is living, active, declared and embodied.

Another way light comes to us is through the unveiled faces of our brothers and sisters.

But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory. (2 Cor. 3:18)

When believers walk honestly and transparently before God and one another, they begin to reflect His light back upon each other. We become beams of God’s reflected glory, like mirror we catch the light of Jesus and shine it into one another’s lives. This is why fellowship and community are so vital.

We need to be in the presence of people whose lives shine the presence of God on us and to us, and we ourselves are called to become that kind of light for others.

When we walk in the presence of His people, we are also walking in the atmosphere of His presence.

And then there is the matter of our own transparency before God. Light can’t penetrate through tinted windows. When we layer our lives with endless distractions, manipulation, dishonesty, resentment, pride, or self-protection, we become opaque and stop seeing clearly. We stop receiving or reflecting light clearly.

True honesty is more than merely abstaining from telling a direct lie. It is a vulnerable openness before God and His people and becoming an untinted windows.

I remember seasons in my own life when I didn’t even realize how little light I was receiving until I stepped back into the light again. Everything had become dim and distorted, causing my relationships to become confusing. In that dullness, every problem became exaggerated and frightening. A shadowy “stump in the yard” began to look like a bear on a dark Alaskan winter evening, and spiritually, that same thing can happen.

Without enough light, we begin seeing our brothers, our circumstances, and even ourselves through distortion, judgment, and fear. But a moment in the light of the presence of God and His people can cast out the dark distortions, and everything becomes clear again.

And what are the “muscles” and “bones” of spiritual life that can become weakened without light?

They are the inner strength and flexibility that allow us to move with grace, humility, courage, forgiveness, and endurance in every capacity God has called us to walk in. When those spiritual bones become weak and brittle, fractures begin to appear in our hearts, and they spread to relationships, families, and even whole churches.

Ephesians says that the whole body is joined and strengthened by “that which every joint supplies” (Eph. 4:16).

When ligaments tear apart, relationships begin to unspiral, and our fellowship with God’s people all but disappears, one of the first questions we should ask is, Am I getting enough light?

Am I receiving the Word of God, in Scripture and through the living voice of believers whom God sends into my life?

Am I walking in fellowship where His face shines upon me through my brothers and sisters?

And am I keeping my own heart transparent before Him, without tinted windows?

God desires vibrant, joyful, healthy Christians. He longs for His people to be strong in spirit, to move with suppleness to His love, and to be radiant in His presence.

So step into the light in every way you can. The winter doesn’t have to last forever. Even in the far north, the sun eventually rises again. And in Christ, that summer Sun can shine even at midnight.

With all my love,

Mom

Dearest Daughters,

Lots of people talk about agricultural sustainability, but very few focus on the sustainability of relationships, marriages, and communities. And that is the most important sustainability of all.

I was recently in a meeting where I heard a man say that he personally knew twenty-four people whose adult children had “canceled” them. Until the last few years, I’d never even heard that term used in this way, and I find it deeply grievous. It is the sign of a failing culture. If there’s no sustainability in relationships and no continuity between generations, then we have lost life itself.

So what does it take to create relational durability?

First, I believe it’s a question of identity.

Second, we must recognize our place in both eternity and in history.

God did not create us as individuals to be the whole picture of His purpose or even our own purpose. We were designed to be connected to a whole much larger than ourselves. We’re connected to the roots, the trunk, and to the preceding branches. If we sever this connection, how can we produce fruit? Only God is all in all, and each generation is one step closer to the harvest He is cultivating.

Let me begin with identity.

I’ve often heard people ask, “Was it hard for you to give up your career, your dreams, or your previous life to become a mother?”

For me, no. Once I really understood motherhood to be my calling, I couldn’t imagine anything more important in the world. Motherhood is not a detour that I must quickly get out of the way before proceeding to my real future. It was my future!

I saw being a mother as how the kingdom of God would continue coming again and again upon the earth, generation after generation.

To stand in the place of motherhood was, to me, to take hold of a story stretching all the way from the faith of Abraham—through whom all the families of the earth would be blessed—to the returning of the Lord. And if we all do our parts at imparting faith from one generation to the next, it can be an answer to the question of whether He would still find faith upon the earth.

We know the kingdoms of self-centeredness, broken families, dissolved relationships, and fragmentation are definitely flourishing! But I wanted to see the kingdom of heaven flourish also, that kingdom of love, faithfulness, sacrifice, and thriving life. Motherhood was my big opportunity to participate in that work.

So if motherhood is your calling, don’t view it as an isolated or temporary identity but as part of the future itself. Look at it as determining whether there will still be a people of faith standing upon the earth when your grandchildren are born . . . and when your great-grandchildren are born.

We must think long-term!

We’ve been trained by a culture of “click here,” “swipe there,” and to think in short-term fragments that are immediate and short, but you must learn to think generationally.

Look back into the past:

Why did my ancestors come to this country?

What were they longing for?

What sacrifices did they make?

Then look forward:

What will I leave behind for my grandchildren’s children?

What kind of spiritual, relational, and cultural inheritance will I leave for my descendants after I’m gone?

If you think this way, your parenting will be rooted in a vision rather than wasting it in constant reaction, and your family will have roots that are deep enough to endure storms.

And this brings me to generations. No generation in and of itself, and certainly no individual, should be all in all. That’s who Christ is. He alone fills all in all. He was before time began, and He will remain after time ends.

I think of history like a tree planted from a seed. The roots go deep into the earth, carrying out their unseen job. Without them, the tree would certainly die. Yet we don’t look at the roots expecting fruit, and neither do we find fruit in the trunk, or even in the earliest branches.

So it’s futile to look back at your parents or grandparents and complain that they didn’t bear the fruit that perhaps your generation was intended to bear. When we compare one generation to another in this way, we misunderstand what God is doing across history.

Every time we sever ourselves from the generation before us, we cut ourselves off from the roots. And when branches lose connection to the roots, the leaves begin to wither.

I believe much of the rejection of previous generations comes from a loss of vision and identity. People no longer understand that humanity itself was meant to be on a journey back toward God—back toward the wholeness we lost in the Garden when mankind chose autonomy over surrendered relationship with their Creator.

Every act of relational severing becomes a participation in fragmentation, death, and entropy. It’s just another bite from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and deciding for ourselves rather than surrendering ourselves into the Tree of Life.

And yet it is those ancient roots, however tangled, scarred, or gnarled they may appear, that still nourish us. It is that old trunk, no matter how imperfect or weathered, that still supports us.

May God help us to give thanks for the generations that came before us. No matter their failures, we would not exist without them.

That honor for one’s roots is something I always admired about my father.

His own father was a deeply broken man who tragically eventually ended his own life, and yet my father still spoke of him with kindness and honor. I never heard him speak with bitterness, though he certainly did not condone the things he had done.

My father believed that his father had given him life. He had ridden the rails and eventually settled in Texas, where my father would one day encounter God. And to my father, that was enough reason to give thanks and honor his memory.

Do not sever yourself from the roots, or you may one day find your own branches barren.

“When the Son of man comes, shall He find faith on the earth?” — Luke 18:8

With all my love,

Mom