Those wild, heartbreaking, yet gorgeous days
We cling to you, God of hope
This week on Mothering Spirit
Heather Faase shares a moment of grace after miscarriage and grief that changed how she saw everything around her:
“While some will call this moment a coincidence, I know it to be the divine works of the Spirit gently telling me I had it all wrong.
Yes, I had endured too many hardships in too short of an amount of time, but perhaps I had been placed here in beautiful Switzerland for these years of tribulation as a perfect gift of distraction so as to not be swallowed whole by grief, so as to not spend my precious moments earthside consumed solely by Good Fridays.
Our God had met me in my physical pain, sat with me as I raged, and simultaneously nudged me to walk forward once more into the quieter space of Holy Saturday.”
Read the rest here: Called by the Swiss Alphorn into the Arms of the Creator.
If you’ve experienced the loss of a child—before birth or at any age—or if you’ve journeyed with a friend or family member through their grief, let this prayer be a balm:
We cling to you in our grief, God of hope.
We entrust our baby to your mercy.
Help us to believe we will be with our child again one day.
Help us to trust in the promise of heaven.
Pray with this blessing after miscarriage—or share with someone who might need it. You can find this prayer and more in Grieving Together: A Couple’s Journey through Miscarriage by Laura and Franco Fanucci.
From our sponsors
This week’s sponsor of Mothering Spirit is Give Us This Day, a monthly devotional to help you deepen your prayer life through morning/evening prayer, Scripture reflections, and daily readings. Request a free sample copy here to pray at home.
This Week’s Recommendation
Each Friday we feature more work from our writers. This week we shared an excerpt from Our Lady of Hot Messes: Getting Real With God in Dive Bars and Confessionals by Leticia Ochoa Adams.
“I began looking back at all the lessons I had learned and the experiences I had had that were signs of God’s love for me, and they looked different than anything I had read any Christian talk about. Like sitting on a barstool for years playing Peter Gabriel’s song ‘In Your Eyes’ as a prayer. Or using the quiet time in the mornings when I worked at Hooters to talk to God about the dreams I had for my children as I sliced lemons.
I have spent the last four years learning who God is rather than who I have always thought he was. I have learned that he has always been with me, even when I was dancing on speakers at a club. I want to pass on some of those lessons to anyone who thinks, like I used to, that they are beyond the reach of God’s love.”
Substack Spotlight
Walk & Talk by Kimberly Knowle-Zeller is a space to share stories, inspiration, and hope. I write about motherhood, faith, and finding joy right where you are. I'm a Mama, writer, and pastor. I’ve lived in West Africa and one summer hiked 500 miles across Spain, and now I call Cole Camp, MO, home with my husband, two children, and dog. I love to walk, talk, and share stories.
A few of my favorite posts include this one on the invitation to pray when you're feeling bored and this one on the spiritual practice of paying attention and putting one foot in front of the other. Every month I send a note of encouragement or a piece of writing on where I'm finding God, along with a few of my favorite things from around the web.
Subscribe to Kimberly’s Substack here!
Want to feature your Substack newsletter here to have it reach more readers? Contact laura@motheringspirit.com for more information.
In Your Words
Starting this fall we’re featuring more of your words here. We know social media is a place where mothers of all ages and stages share from the heart about their joys and challenges. Each week we hope to bring you a glimpse into one mother’s life—in the hopes that her words might resonate with your own story.
This week’s post comes from Elizabeth Berget (@elizabeth_a_berget on Instagram):
“You’ll find yourself again, Mama, I promise.
I know, I know, you’re so tired, and it feels like your pelvic floor is irreversibly damaged, and you have spent entire years of your life planning around naps. I know you’ve forgotten that you actually like to read, and that you and your spouse are more roommates than lovers right now. I know that you can’t seem to catch a break from all the preschool germs. Believe me, I know.
I lost myself for a while when the kids were little. And in some ways, key word: SOME, that kind of losing is the stuff of the Divine—Aslan allowing himself to be tied to the stone table, Mary consenting ‘yes, let my entire life be upended for this child,’—you know, the last shall be first and all.
But when I was waking up several times a night, when pink eye and strep were common dinner table topics, and for those years when my body made and fed babies ‘round the clock, I forgot about parts of myself that are just now coming back. Maybe it’s because everyone sleeps now, or maybe it’s the Citalopram, or maybe it’s something of God breaking through the crusty exterior of my unwashed hair to stop me in my tracks with the rising full moon, but I’m finding those parts again.
I’m remembering how to laugh deeply and that I like doing slightly risky things and that ice cream for dinner is my given right as an adult. I’m remembering how good kissing feels and teaching my kids the joy of barreling down the highway with Lauryn Hill blasting from the speakers. I’m reading again, like when I was in fifth grade, bringing home boxes of books from the library. I’m picking up the pieces from a whole lifetime of delights that got dropped when my hands were full carrying infant car seats to and from the house. But I’m finding them again. I’m finding myself again.
You’ll find yourself again too, Mama. I promise.”
Want to share your words here? Tag @mothering.spirit in your post on social media & we’ll let you know if we’d like to feature it in a future Substack.
If you like what you read at Mothering Spirit, we’d love if you’d share this with a friend! Maybe someone who needs encouragement in her mothering journey—or a place to pray in the midst of her busy days. Thanks for supporting our writers by sharing their work, following us on Instagram or Facebook, or supporting us on Patreon.
This post contains affiliate links.