We did it! We did it! We did it! All 3 of those “We did it’s” count because here’s what we did:

1. We packed up an entire house, moved, and unpacked it all over again...

2. WHILE Chris worked 18 hour days to get things in order for church online, and I was kickstarting our new virtual Help Club Bible study…

3. WHILE Benjamin and I had COVID.

“You can’t give God your heart and keep your body for yourself” Elisabeth Elliott

A friend recently asked me, “If your children were taking care of themselves the way you do, would you be happy?” Mic drop. How would you answer that, mama? Ten years ago, my answer would have been very different than it is today!

Thank you for praying for us after I wrote this blog. I didn’t leave Home Affairs that day with the miracle piece of paper I was hoping for, but I did leave with a miraculous peace. Here’s a quick article I wrote for the Help Club for Moms about it. Three days later, I’m still consumed by joy and peace. It just took one exhausted encounter with God, and I truly feel like I’ve been forever changed.

Take that, devil.

We’re reaching back into the archives today! I originally published this story on November 5, 2012. This Thanksgiving season and this talk about giving made me think of it again.

There’s just nothing like watching a miracle unfold in your very own hands. The awe, wonder and supernatural power of a miracle breaks off chains, swings locked doors wide open, and makes the impossible possible in your life. If you happen to be low on faith or hope this holiday season, borrow some of mine. These aren’t empty calories. They are real, filling, and there are plenty of leftovers! Enjoy the read!

It’s Thanksgiving in America today. Wherever you live, I hope you give thanks. It changed my life, redeemed my hope, and infused my home with joy. Life may be hard today, but God sets the table for you in the presence of your enemies. (Psalm 23.) Find one thing to be thankful for today. And watch this video!

We’ve got a major pandemic on our hands over here, guys. I think it’s more contagious than COVID. It’s “the problem” pandemic. My home was recently caught it, and it drove me bananas.

A VERY widely accepted sentence starter in Cape Town is, “*The problem is…”* You hear it everywhere you go. Lifa unknowingly started engaging conversations as a platform for his problems.

When I was a freshly-degreed young woman, testing the waters of adulthood, I looked life straight in the eye. I knew where I wanted to go, how to get there, and nothing would stop me. I did not, however, factor in life. People, circumstances, sin, suffering, and all of my ickly-prickly shortcomings.

I recently went to a mall to pick up a gift for a friend. I had a toddler strapped to my body, a mask on my face, and bags in each hand. I glanced at a window display of women’s clothing and thought, “That is a store for grown-ups.”

I’m still thinking of GoGo’s life and the way it changed the trajectory of mine. (See GoGo’s tribute here.)

Every day you can turn on the news and see how one person changed another person’s life with evil. It’s the people not featured... the moms and dads and teachers and gogos... who choose good that are changing the world for better.

I always had great friendships while I was a student. I grew up learning how to make friends in intentional, Christian environments. That led me to making choices toward intentional, Christian friendships when I was in college and graduate school. It was those friendships - the ones where I chose to be intentional with other Christian women - that changed my life and helped me learn how to have a real relationship with Jesus.

Invasion of privacy doesn’t really exist in the Ladd house... because there’s not much privacy to invade. Chris and I share passwords to everything and copy each other in on emails or messages to a person of the opposite sex. All of Lifa’s online chats and access to devices are routinely checked. We see what kids are talking about, how they communicate and what is shaping their worldviews. Because of that, I want to say this to all the grown ups in the world:

I’ve recently asked a few friends this (potentially very weird) question. Chris and I have always had as very defined evening routine since we started our marriage with a 7-year old. It’s that “after the kids go to bed” time of day that we haven’t nailed.

It’s very valuable to Chris to have time to unplug in the evenings. He relaxes by stretching out on the couch, going quiet, and watching TV or videos. Those are all of my least favorite things. I crave “plugging in” with another adult. I’d rather go to bed early, trading unwinding for actual sleep. Screens and shows overstimulate me and drain me. Do you see the issue here?

I lived in the same house for my entire childhood. My mom and grandma operated a preschool there during my youngest years, and it was always the gathering place for friends and family. We lost that house and everything in it during a fire when I was in college. I still remember walking through the ashes and feeling like there was no longer evidence of who I was. My parents were divorced by that time, and we never re-created a “home base”…

There’s a print shop right down the road from our house. They make all the random projects in my head do-able. I email them often, tell them my idea, and they work their printshop magic. I call the staff “Benjamin’s ladies”, and it’s always a treat to visit them. My latest project was brightly colored, laminated cards with pictures and my handwriting on them.

My oldest son is preparing to go to high school, while my youngest one still rides on my hip. As I look at my boys, I often wonder what stories they will tell their children about the home they grew up in. If I keep trying to do everything, I’m afraid they will only remember a frazzled mom without much to show for it! Instead of trying all the things, I’ve decided to start small. I asked myself, “What is one area, one meal, or one routine that I want to breathe life into in our home?” For me, it was dinnertime.

It’s a fresh new week, and it’s time for a fresh face. No matter what last week (or last night) dished out, let’s pick up our shield of faith, remind ourselves that we have a hope that does not disappoint, and put on love.

**And, in my case, do whatever it takes to get that Monday makeup on.

Hi! Let’s take a Thursday deep breath, and do a quick self-inventory. How would you answer these questions about yourself? (They are today questions, but you can use yesterday if you are reading this in the morning.)

What did you talk about today? What kinds of words did you use? Did you build up or tear down? What do you look like today? How do you feel today? How are you talking about those things?

Benjamin is learning how to roar like a dinosaur. We had the greatest playtime in our front yard, roaring, exploring and breaking sticks. It was one of those blissful mom moments you want to hold on to forever. I snapped some selfies so I could savor these sweet times together.

My husband and I have a great “story”. We still laugh at its quirks and relish in God’s faithfulness when we tell others how we met and married. The details of our first encounters are not really our “story”, however. A story is written page by page and day by day.

One thing I love about the Help Club for Moms is that it’s practical. Mom or not, we all need help knowing how to live out God’s Word daily. The world is only getting louder and more erratic. God’s Truth is sure and steady. His voice often comes gently. So how do we live out quiet, steadfast Truth in a busy world - or in my busy house!?! You break it down. Small changes will change you.

A week or so ago, I dipped low into that pit of desperation that every mom has probably known- the one where the only thought you can think is: “I’ll do anything to make this kid sleeeeep”. Forget the baby books. Forget the sleep training and the “they says”. I put Benjamin in the car, and we drove for a loooong time. FINALLY, he slept. I parked in a safe, guarded parking lot. I had planned for this. I even brought my work along with me. Instead, I sat there in crazy-eyed silence and sent equally crazy pictures to Chris. My work stayed untouched, and I stared through the windshield while my thoughts shredded my last remnants of sanity.