Ten years ago, we crossed paths via similar missions and a shared culture. I thought you were a short-termer, getting the adventuring out of your system. You thought I was the weird missionary type, raising a child as my own.

Nine years, seven months ago, we had a conversation I’ve coined “the business meeting”. From separate couches, we discussed fears, futures, and made a decision to choose each other from that point forward. There were no romantic feelings between us, and the energy in the room was electrically awkward. But we’d start a relationship and see what God did.

Nine years, six and half months ago...

Spring is blooming in South Africa! It’s the perfect time of the year to put all fives senses to work in God’s glorious creation. You can’t help but encounter the Creator in the midst of it. I relished in watching and cheering the littlest Ladds on as they did exactly what they were meant to do - found the perfect walking sticks, dug in the dirt, studied footprints and tracks, threw rocks that were way too big, climbed, jumped, balanced, and rolled.

I am cautious about miracles. Don't get me wrong... I know miracles intimately. I've witnessed bodies heal while my fingers still interlocked, while my mouth still formed the "Amen". I've seen finances and families resurrected against all odds. My own life's story is marked by miracles, big and small.

Those visible miracles are so very spectacular, like the fireworks of faith. If I'm honest, they can easily become the prize I run toward or a measuring stick I use to see if I'm pleasing to God. The miracles are not the prize, the portion or my salvation. Jesus is.

My birthday started with Chris, coffee and Jesus before the sun came up. Then we were whisked away to an extravagant, picture perfect breakfast with church family. The family had homemade (and sugar free!) ice cream cake in the sunshine after naps, and then the boys and I took a quick trip to the beach. It was a dream day that ended with a pile of chicken nuggets and bedtime stories. I’d say it doesn’t get any better than this.

I am continually amazed by the joy of the Lord springing up unexpectedly and faithfully through the zigs and zags of life. I feel surrounded by Him and blessed by so many. Thank YOU for being a part of my life!

I begin my “40’s” today. I remember thinking life had peaked at 17 when I was my high school’s head cheerleader. Then again, at 21, when I was one signature away from a dream job after graduating university at the top of my class... And then I heard God speak.

He spoke from the ashes of my childhood home, surrounded by the charred remains of every physical marker of life to that point. His words were the beginning of climbing down the ladder of success as the world might see it. I declined my job offer and took out my very first student loan. I drove a moving truck across the country on my 22nd birthday and enrolled in seminary to study Marriage and Family Therapy.

Benjamin crashed my post-workout stretch session this morning... and things progressed from there. A 10-minute kids workout on the iPad unlocked joy, bouncing, bonding and healing movement. Our Jammer has been in a hard-ish season for a while - which is quite a euphemism, really. We’re all giving it our best, and we all sometimes flip out and see our worst. In his hard-ish times, Benjamin struggles with proprioception, interoception... all kinds of -ceptions. The way we spell it out in our house is “having trouble taking control of your body.” The details are not for the Internet, but it’s not easy to watch, parent or live with if we’re being honest.

Our five-year old's brain functions differently than most. Lately, he's been showing all the signs that the pressures of daily life are closing in on him. We could see what wasn't working but didn't know what would bring relief. We decided to change his rhythms, surrender the process to God, and see where He took us.

Our son's play school is geared toward kids with special needs and meets him right where he's at. He still needed a break, even though it's a good thing. We reduced his school hours significantly for the week.

Welcome to one afternoon at the Ladd house. This might be too much of a generalization, but I’m willing to wager that mothers of boys are one of the most grateful species on the planet when the sun is shining and the people can play outside. In just one hour this afternoon, we found out Wyatt has an impressive ability to hang, lost a soccer ball on the roof, and a red ball got kicked in the neighbor’s yard. The cars went down the slide multiple times, and it became official news that out the Batman suit does, in fact, make you win every soccer game.

Earlier this week, I asked Wyatt if he wanted to run to the soccer field like his “baba” (Benjamin). He kept his pudgy little hand gripped firmly on mine and told me, “No, Mama. Baba’s five. I’m two. Hold my hand.” And that was the most sensible thing I’ve heard all week.

Time is our most precious commodity. It’s the only thing we don’t get back or earn on a success ladder. It’s in the very human concept of time that God creates space for the rhythm of relationships.

In 2010, I found myself on a bumpy, creepy-crawly 18-hour bus ride from Lusaka, Zambia to a remote village on Lake Tanganyika. I saw the brightness of the stars in the complete absence of electricity for a month. I learned to "grocery shop" at the market, and how to turn two skinny, living chickens into dinner for 20.

Siblings. Absolutely the wildest of all the relationship combinations out there. Body slams and mouth kisses are interchangeable in a moment. Loving and loathing oscillate in milliseconds. Friend and foe AT THE SAME TIME. They are also almost always the longest relationship of your life. That’s probably why you need so much grit, humor, and an occasional Hot Wheel thrown at your head. It’s love built to last long after the bruises fade away. I pray for my kids’ relationships with each other often. Their love for each other is a gift we can leave them as a legacy.

I am speaking to a group of moms this weekend about parenting in this high-tech, digital age. I'll cover the basics of brain development to empower moms to decide how to support their children in each stage of life. Humans are born soft and underdeveloped. Meanwhile, hoofed mammals are walking and baby baboons are clinging to their mother's hair as she swings through trees within hours of birth. Human brains are 25% developed at birth, with just the lower portion of the nervous system "online". The frontal cortex is the is the last part of the brain to fully develop in our 20's and is responsible for judgment, impulse control, decision-making, and insight.

Please pray for this event this weekend!

Southpoint Church is hosting workshops for moms called "Essential Conversations". We're talking Biblical perspective on big topics and taking home practical tools to engage with your kids at every stage of development.

Brittanica encyclopedia defines "amen" as "an expression of agreement, confirmation or desire". The ancient word's Semitic root means "firm, fixed or sure" and is related to the Hebrew verb that means "to be trusted". Jesus' words "Verily, verily" or "truly, I say to you" in the Gospels is written in Greek as "AMHN, AMHN".

My post-prayer amen can often be translated as , "This is me, God, signing off!"

I show up to church out of breath and in a full sweat - even on the coldest winter day! Have you ever noticed that everyone loses their ever-lovin’ minds when it’s time to get to church? …. Go anyway. Show up sweaty, frizzy-haired, with one sock on. Doesn’t matter. Your Father has good gifts for you in His storehouses, and He will clothe you in His grace, mercy, compassion, goodness and love…

You’ll never believe this. We saved Two Oceans Aquarium last night. And it didn’t even know it needed saving. We held down the floors with mighty muscles, uncovered evidence of the Joker in the eel tank, secured a yellow submarine, and climbed unspeakable heights to summit Superhero Tower. It wasn’t easy, but somebody had to do it.

And then we ate crackers and muffins and took bubble baths. Top night! 🎩

Southpoint Church was full of Christmas cheer and laughing ladies today. Fifty women from all ages and stages sipped hot chocolate, snacked, decorated cookies, and participated in an oh-so-sassy Christmas re-gift game. We “stole” gifts from an almost-90 year old gem and celebrated another’s Christmas bun in the oven! 🤰(not me!!!!)

It had been seven years of unfathomable oppression. To make matters worse, God's people brought on their oppression with their own idol-worshiping hands. Desperate Gideon, the youngest in an insignificant family from a small tribe, was quite literally in a low place. He was doing chores below ground. Grain was typically threshed on a hilltop so the wind would blow away the chaff. Gideon was threshing wheat in a sunken winepress to protect it from the locust-like Midianites. He might have been wondering how things got so bad, even though his father's had idolatrous shrine loomed above him.

I am a song repeater. It is not unusual for me to continuously listen to one worship song for a season. I find that, with repetition, the very first chords of the anthem draw my heart to God no matter what's happening around me. I am currently listening to "Gratitude" by Benjamin William Hastings again and again. That's the song I shared in last week's call to worship. Friday friend, I must confess that I've been ignoring a nudging…

We went to Benjamin and Wyatt's first soccer practice yesterday. (Read the soccer camp story for important context!) I snapped a picture of Benjamin, frozen with fear, and sent it to Chris at work. I asked Chris to pray for Benjamin because he was completely overwhelmed at the sight of other kids on the field. I knew Benjamin was in a hard spot because his whole heart wants to be a soccer player, and he's been counting down the days to come to soccer practice. His body and mind simply said no. They could not integrate.