I’ve spent many of my 15,840+ days on this earth having no clue what to do, making mistakes, and learning as I go. 

As a teenager, I muddled my way through each day, trying to figure out who in the world I was. (Thank you, God, that I never have to be a seventh grader again.) 

I began college with vigor, only to be met with the shocking realization that as a young adult, I needed to claim my own faith, keep up with my own laundry, study my heart out, and make my own doctor appointments.

When I first got married, I excitedly poured my heart into making a home, while serving my new husband many burnt grilled cheese sandwiches and underdone, doughy pancakes.

When our oldest son was born, I found myself totally in love with my newborn who quickly turned into a toddler. But I wore a “deer in the headlights” look for much of the time. Changing a diaper was easy enough, but where was the handbook on how to properly get a stubborn three year old to obey without having a melt-down in the middle of aisle nine? (Take your pick on who was having the melt-down…me or the three year old.)

In a few short years, three more baby boys were added to our family. I now had to learn to manage sibling squabbles, synchronize nap schedules, and deal with having too few hands to keep up with active little boys who didn’t care to sit quietly in a church pew.

There were wiggly teeth and ER visits for stitches. There were illnesses. There was death. There was pain and grieving. There were job changes. There was confusion. There were new adventures. There was more blessing than we could have ever dreamed or imagined.

And now? Now there are teenagers and preteens and a closet full of soccer cleats, work gloves, and basketballs. There are savings accounts, algebra lessons, odd jobs, hobbies, overloaded schedules, learner’s permits, and cute girls. Right around the corner there will be transcripts, scholarship applications, senior pictures, and ACT scores. 

Somehow I did make it through those uncertain baby and preschool years. This gives me hope that somehow, I will also make it through these deep voice changing, independent, cut-the-apron-string years too, even though I often feel utterly incompetent.

As unprepared as I sometimes feel, I take comfort knowing that I’ve never had to do any of this alone. Obviously God has been my ultimate guide, and Matt is a solid rock of a teammate. But what I’ve appreciated more than words can express are the women God has put in my life to walk me through each stage. Women who have “been there, done that”. Women who care. Women who don’t mind that I ask thirteen to three hundred questions. Women who love me for who I am and empower me to be what God has called me to be.

I’m not alone. And neither are you. There’s nothing new under the sun, and nothing you or I are going through hasn’t already been dealt with by someone else. Thank you, God, for wise mentors and for friends who offer encouragement.

Now if I can just refrain from purposely giving my boys bad hair cuts in an effort to ward off the cute girls.  I kid.  (I think.)

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