You see, I was struggling. Whenever I prayed and read the Bible, little ones were pulling at me, needing me, wanted to nurse. I hid Bibles everywhere, but I never had uninterrupted time with the Lord.
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I talk to so many mothers who feel discouraged and weary. They long to be perfect mothers and often believe lies about themselves, their children, and their ability to parent.
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I pass on my old friends, these tattered books that have seen better days because I have read them so many times.
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I remember rocking my oldest daughter Katie Beth in the middle of the night in a small apartment in Phoenix. She had fallen asleep in my arms and as I gazed at her face, I felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of motherhood. Could I do it?...
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