I’ve been memorizing the second Psalm for the last little while.

I’m not usually very good at getting around to memorizing scripture, but I kept remembering a conversation I had with a friend.  She was sharing the idea that choosing to believe that God’s Word is our ”bread and water” spiritually, involves choosing to believe that scripture has fed us whether or not we feel fed.  In other words, just because I don’t feel refreshed or inspired after reading God’s Word doesn’t mean my time spent there was fruitless.  She talked about a Bible Study plan that was built on simply reading scripture.  Choose a passage and read that same passage over and over for weeks or even months.  Meditate on it…and believe that it is powerful, life transforming and healing…even if you don’t feel like it.

This idea was intriguing to me, so I decided to try this out.

I find it hard to maintain a healthy devotional life in the midst of my mothering.  Time is precious and limited.  Routines are unpredictable at times.  Stuff happens!

I have always found huge comfort in the fact that God knows and understands my days.  An hour spent reading scripture or praying is not always possible, and I do not need to beat myself up about that.  I can worship my Creator in many more ways than just sitting down with my Bible.  He can speak to me through a million other channels.  There are all kinds of little ways I can show Him my desire for Him and my commitment to transformation throughout the day.  Scripture to song, verses taped to the fridge, and an open Bible on my desk are all little ways I’ve tried to make sure I am still “eating” spiritually in those seasons of chaos which usually involve babies or demanding toddlers.

However, I also know that God’s Word is powerful.  There is nothing that can replace it in my life.  I go through seasons where I feel I am starving at times, but I also come out of those seasons.  The hard part is diving back into the Word at the first possible moment.  Hungering.  Thirsting.  Gasping for oxygen.

Sometimes I just have no idea where to start.

I read through one gospel or epistle, then go…what now?!

So the last time this happened, I decided to try my friend’s idea.  I chose the second Psalm because of verses 2-3.

“But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law doth he meditate day and night.  And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not whither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.”

This summed up so beautifully the desire I had for God’s Word to be written on my heart; engrained into the core of my being.  It’s been good.  I have a new passage memorized, I know what to read each day, and it’s an exercise that’s easy to do even when I’m exhausted or only have a few minutes.

What about you?

How do you make sure you are spending time in God’s Word and in prayer throughout your days?

Does it matter?

I’d love to hear your ideas 🙂



The other day I had a grumpy Mama day.

I was lazy.

I was tired.

I didn’t feel like hopping up to get glasses of water, towels for dripping little bodies, snacks for hungry tummies or just walk those extra steps to see what was so exciting.  All I wanted to do was sit on the couch, enjoy the book I was reading and let everyone else fend for themselves.

Funny thing is…the longer I sat and ignored the needs around me, the worse I felt.

The more times I sighed heavily, let unkind tones slip from my lips and frowns crease my brow the more guilty, frustrated and exasperated I felt.

Then, suddenly, there was a little voice complaining,

“My tummy hurts.”

And before I had a chance to process this, there was vomit all over her jammies, the couch and me.

And you know what?

There, in that moment where I had more reason than ever to let myself catapult off the edge of the self pity cliff, I felt my heart kick into gear.

Gone were the weary muscles, the impatient tones and the self obsessed thoughts.

Suddenly, my mind became consumed with one thing.

My daughter.

She needed clean pajamas, a bath and some medicine.   She needed drinks and blankets.  She needed a bed made up closer to the bathroom and my own room where I would hear her immediately if she cried or threw up in the night.

She needed her Mommy.

It wasn’t until later that night, slipping into bed and leaving my door a crack so I would hear her, that I realized the transition that had occurred in a split second and had to smile.

It no longer mattered that I was tired…I knew I would be up multiple times that night and it was ok.  Instead of wishing I could hide in a corner and finish my book, I felt the irrational worries familiar to mothers playing tag in my mind.

What if she wakes and I don’t hear her?

What if she chokes on her own vomit?

What if her fever spikes while I sleep?

What if I’m missing something?

Does she have enough blankets?

Should I give her more liquids?

I didn’t want to leave her side.  I wanted to be able to see her, feel her and hear her so I knew she was ok.

While I laid awake for an hour in the middle of the night with her fevered face tucked up beside mine, I wasn’t thinking about the lack of sleep I was getting.  I was only thinking…I guess this is what it feels like to be a Mommy.

To wish more than anything that I could take all the yucky, awful feelings away and make her happy and healthy again.

To realize I would do anything for this little life entrusted to my care.

To be overwhelmed with awe that I have been chosen to serve such a beautiful, wonderful, perfect little life.

To be snuggled up next to a smelly, sick little girl and know

I am where I belong.

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