“God is great! God is great…”

Their own tune, their own words, praising Him.

(For once, they must have slept long enough to wake up on the right side of the bed.)

The next morning, I heard the patter of raindrops when I awoke.

Thank You, Lord. The fields needed this rain.

(And I was cheerful because it meant less hours my husband would have to spend irrigating.)

This week, the Meadowlark song has been heard outside long before we are up inside.

“Let every thing that has breath praise the Lord.”

(The birds love the spring and the rain and the sun as much as my children do. Except, I don’t think the birds get half so dirty.)

It seems there’s always a song somewhere, praising Him.

If only I remember to join in the praise.

(Forgive me, Lord, for being so silent the rocks have to cry out!)

{Five-Minute Friday Prompt: “Song”}

song is a post from: gretchenlouise.com


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1,000 Words is a post from: gretchenlouise.com


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“To be a woman is to have a body image problem.”
-Mary Pipher, PhD. in Mom in the Mirror

“You’re so cute,” Marlys would say.

“No, you are the cute one!” I’d counter.

It was our little ritual all throughout our teens. We were four years apart, but our friendship formed out of the closeness of our families and the way I was falling in love with her brother.

“No, you are the cute one,” she’d come back again.

Our brothers rolled their eyes. “Just say thank you!” Merritt would admonish.

But to say thank you would be to accept the compliment, and admit that I was cute. And I didn’t feel cute. Even though I knew Marlys was.

Ten years have come and gone. I’m married to that brother of hers. And now she’s married, too. We don’t argue about who’s cute these days. Instead we share the woes of shopping for maternity clothes and mourn our pre-pregnancy body sizes we fear we’ll never see again.

And that brother of hers whom I married? He must have caught on back when Marlys and I were always arguing about who was cuter. Because he’s always telling me how awfully cute I look. (Though cute is not always the adjective he uses.) And I’m always looking down at my rolls and sighing, trying to will myself to say thank you. But I can usually only muster an, “I’m glad you think so.”

“No amount of eating or not eating can resolve something food isn’t intended to fill. No amount of the physical can satisfy the spiritual.”
-Emily Wierenga in Mom in the Mirror

(Disclosure: This post includes affiliate links.)

When I first heard about the new book Mom in the Mirror, I wrongly assumed it was another book about eating disorders, like Emily Wierenga’s first book Chasing Silhouettes. But I wasn’t many pages into Mom in the Mirror before I discovered it was about so much more than eating disorders–and I could hardly read the words for the tears. Layer by layer, story by story, the words of Emily Wierenga and Dena Cabrera peel back the facade of “I’m fine” and get deep into the heart of a mom’s perception of beauty and relationship with food.

Mom in the Mirror is not just for women who struggle with eating disorders. Mom in the Mirror is for every mom who has ever looked in the mirror and made a face at the image reflected there. It’s for the mom who has healthy eating habits but an unhealthy body image. It’s for the mom who has at least 10 extra pounds of baby fat–for each pregnancy she’s carried. It’s for the mom of little girls who is beginning to realize that she does not want to pass on her own body image to the next generation. It’s for the woman whose husband loves her no matter her size but desperately wants her to feel beautiful enough to let him look at her.

I loved the way Mom in the Mirror focused on more than just eating and weighing habits–it gets to the heart of beauty and body image and the way they affect and are affected by relationships. It is filled with words I need to remind myself of over and over again. It is filled with truth about bodies and birth and the beautiful creation they are.

“When I am able to extend grace to myself, there is an absolute change in my feeling about the rest of the world.”
-Anne Lamott, quoted in Mom in the Mirror

“Mommy, you’re so beautiful!”

I’m caught off guard by the voices of admiration.

“That dress is so lovely, Mommy!”

They exclaim about my clothes and my hair and I question whether I should take literally any compliments on my wardrobe from these two whose outfit combinations are often “unique”.

But haltingly, I say, “Thank you.”

Because really, what else can I say? I tell my girls they are beautiful, and I never want them to doubt it.

“And this is what having children does. It humbles you. Breaks you. Makes you better than you’d ever thought you could be, and all because of a diapered creature who depends entirely on you.”
-Emily Wierenga in Mom in the Mirror

• Visit the official website for Mom in the Mirror.
• Purchase Mom in the Mirror from Amazon.

Disclosure: I received a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes. Affiliate links are included in this post.

Mom in the Mirror is a post from: gretchenlouise.com


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1,000 Words is a post from: gretchenlouise.com


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You know this weekend is the one our calendars call Mother’s Day. And you know the mixed emotions it brings to the heart of every woman old enough to be a mother.

You know the feelings of inadequacy that inevitably come to my mother heart every Sunday morning, only magnified on Mother’s Day by squirmy children whose actions aren’t exactly rising up and calling me blessed, even if their prompted words and scribbled cards are. You are adequate in my weakness.

You know that new momma delight in receiving a first Mother’s Day card. You know the tiny toes and pink lips we marvel over as those little eyes stare into ours and babble something that sounds like “Momma”. You knit each little one together in our wombs.

You know the pain of the mom who remembers every Mother’s Day that first child she conceived, the one she left behind at an abortion clinic. You bore her guilt to the cross. You love her so much.

You know the loneliness of the single mom who is going it alone, who never pictured raising children without their daddy by her side. You are a Father to the fatherless.

You know the ache of the would-be momma whose arms are empty this weekend, when she thought she’d be holding her first child in church this Sunday. You hold her child for her, for now. You comfort her as only You can.

You know the emptiness of the woman who wants to desperately to be a momma. You hold the barren ones so dear to Your heart. You bottle their tears.

You see the daughters trying so desperately hard to honor their mothers this weekend, even though nothing they say or do is quite enough. You see the daughters who don’t have anyone to send a Mother’s Day card to today. You see the daughters who long to be the mother they never had.

You see the mothers whose daughters won’t speak to them. You see the mothers who wish for any kind of a relationship with their daughters. You see the mothers whose children are serving their country in dangerous and far away places. You see the mothers whose children are waiting for them in Heaven.

You see and You know, Father. You comfort the wounded and bind up the brokenhearted. You, Who came into this world through the womb of a mother. You, Who asked the disciple whom You loved to care for your mother but at the same time diverted praise from her.

You know how thankful I am for my own mother, my mother-in-law and my grandmothers. You know how blessed I am in their heritage and that I must rise up and called them blessed.

You know how I delight in these little ones You have given me to mother. You know how much I long for that same gift for my friends.

You know that motherhood means pain, both in its presence and in its absence. You know.

Thank You for being the God Who knows. Thank You for being the God Who sees. And please, be the God of all comfort for each of Your daughters this weekend.

Because You Live,
Your daughter

{Linking up with Five-Minute Friday’s prompt “Comfort”}

To the God Who Knows is a post from: gretchenlouise.com


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