Having my daughter last spring has definitely changed my walk with Christ. Busy days come with sleepless nights and quiet moments are often broken with cute coos and not-as-cute cries (though I do think her cries can be cute). It extends to my experiences at church. No longer is the Sunday sermon a time where I get to sit and soak up the nuances and meanings in God’s Word. Now it’s a time of wrangling, toy-picking-up, and diaper changes. I expected and longed for these days.

“I’d be LIVID if someone prayed with/to/at my kids.” My heart leapt into my throat and then sank as I read these words from a Facebook group on parenting. The original post had asked for advice on what to do as a parent if you found out your mother had prayed with your children when they couldn’t sleep, even though you are agnostic/atheist and raising your children the same way. This was just one of the many comments expressing this sentiment that flooded the post.

The words of Proverbs 3:1–4 tumble around in my head and heart often as I go through my day with my three small children:

“Can you please help me, Mom?”

My six-year-old son asked me this when he was working on a new LEGO building bricks set and got stuck on a step in the directions.

My son called to me in a stressed and urgent tone, “Mom! I need a big eraser!”

“You have to be in charge, FOREVER!” This was my five-year-old’s response after I had been teasing him that I was going to take a break from being in charge.

“Have you talked about current events with your kids?”

I posted a poll asking this question on Instagram a few days after the initial reports of the ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine. The results were more split than I anticipated.

Back-to-school season feels full of possibilities this year. The possibility that school will feel a little more “normal” this year seems within reach, as some schools shift away from the pandemic-related restrictions they used last year. The possibility that school will be just as messy, with a return to quarantining and virtual classes, is also on the table. The possibility that some kids will get sick and some kids will not is also a real threat. School field trips or organized sports and activities may be possible again . . . or not. And in the midst of all of these possibilities, there are the traditional transitions of adjusting to new classmates, teachers, and routines.

My son, who loves to spend time drawing, has a hard time with his drawings not turning out exactly how he envisioned them in his mind. For a long time, he would only spend time drawing if I was going to draw with him and draw everything the ‘‘right way.’’

Last year, our church celebrated Easter with a drive-in Easter service. In-person gatherings were not an option, but not gathering at all was not an option either. After weeks of planning—which felt generous in some ways, since most of our planning was on the fly while we adjusted to shifting health and safety guidelines last spring—we made it to Easter morning.