It is my joy to mark milestones, Monday mornings and everything in between with you. You grow in wisdom, discernment, integrity, grace and good good love every year.

The little Ladd brothers are in the “love so hard it hurts” era of brotherhood. Love and war are synonymous these days. We’re only two days in to Cape Town’s rainy weather, and I already carted these darling knuckleheads to a play place to save my sanity! I have to admit that, while we slipped into those grippy socks, I was still at battle internally with myself - feeling like I should steward our finances better, be able to manage them better, and school holidays haven’t even started yet.

Yesterday, my youngest sons and I had to run for cover from the rain. We sat together in the back of my beloved van. When the rain passed and they jumped out, the van’s bumper went down with them. I don’t know what caused the initial incident. It wasn’t those tiny little feet. But there was definitely a problem.

Today is a public holiday in South Africa so people can vote. We aren't qualified to vote here, but we sure do pray for this nation. The kids were home from school, so I took all three brothers on a hike. I thought about how their dirty little toes had never touched American soil. And how I carry a Texas driver's license, have a Tennessee permanent address, and haven't left South Africa's rich soil in almost 10 years.

Eagles were common in the Biblical climate and are often referenced in Scripture. You may have heard if you hope in the Lord, you will "soar on wing's like eagles" (Isa 40:31), but there's much more!

Saturdays are tricky at the Ladd house. There's excitement for Lifa's rugby game, church events to participate in, and hopes for an afternoon nap before a busy Sunday. It should also be noted that the whole house is usually in full-on crazy mode by 6am. (Except for Lifa because 16-year olds can sleep through anything.)

Benjamin's nervous system is zapped after the school week, yet he's brimming with hope and expectations for the best Saturday of his life... every single Saturday.

A couple of week ago, I had a sick child whose needs were extremely high from very early in the morning. My toddler decided to even out the score by staying awake all through the night so I could also spend time with him. I only remember a flurry of medicines, meals, and unread messages that week. I didn't have a quiet moment to read my Bible or sing a worship song. Though my stomach was sick from exhaustion and surviving on coffee and peanut butter crusts, I knew, deep down in my sleepy spirit, this was the only place God woud have me in that moment in time.

unMother’s Day: This one is not just for moms.

Chris and I stood on stage at the beginning of both servcies to welcome everyone. I had been awake since 3am with a rotation of small child issues, and Benjamin was having a harder than normal day. If I didn't need to be on stage that morning, I would kept the little guys home with me. Things were heading south quickly...

Something changes the moment you take that first deep breath of mountain air. It’s Creator-air. It fills your lungs with the good stuff and somehow makes any other “bad stuff” dissolve for a while…

I love to listen to people's stories and understand why they tell them the way they do. We all have a timeline, speckled with highs and lows. But it's the narrator, not the timeline, that tells the story.

Chris coined the term “chill people” when we moved to Cape Town several years ago. We were not (and are not) “chill people” but seemed to live in a city full of them….

The little guys and I got rained out of Lifa’s rugby game sidelines again yesterday. We packed a picnic and headed to church to play our blues away. I seized an unexpected opportunity to teach Benjamin how to pray (with his mouth full) in every family ministry environment.

Wednesday was a public holiday, a bonus "play day" for my kids. I received bad news from family in the US on Tuesday morning that left me unsure how I'd get through Wednesday. I was frazzled, exhausted and didn't know what I'd do wtih a two-year old and a child whose disability requires my unwavering attention to support his nervous system.

I try not to be “play place people”. I’m not into paying for playing or the litany of unknowns to help Benjamin navigate through. But on this rainy public holiday, with my mind and heart preoccupied with family issues in America, we opened up that play place and stayed until the crowds came. (Less than an hour!)

Two very different picutres of our Sunday morning at church… one of them is hilarious.

I texted my husband yesterday and told him I felt sick about an appointment I preparing for. I laid down for 15 minutes, hoping nausea would subside. I was taking my son to see a new specialist, and our last appointment hadn't gone well. We ended up having a very positive experience, and I took note of the lightness inside of me as we traveled home. The moment I walked in the door of our home, however, I felt like I got punched in the gut with that same sick feeling I had before. It dawned on me then. It wasn't the appointment. It was something in our home.

Parenting has a way of humbling you. It's amazing how quickly I started doing the things I said I'd never do as a parent. You know what helped me be ok with that? The bigger picture.

Somebody prayed for us today. I witnessed the proof through supernaturally joy-filled boys playing their ever-loving hearts out. It was a different kind of play. It was light... it almost made light.

I attended a groundbreaking ceremony for an orthopaedic unit at a children's hospital this week. Our church has given generously so children near and far can access exceptional medical care, so we were invited to commemorate this special moment.

We started a journey toward understanding our son's autism and nervous system disorder two years ago. We had all kinds of new limits to navigate but no rulebook to explain them.