Thirty-two nights later, I had reached my breaking point. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I had begun to resent bedtime and decided that sleep - in general - was overrated.

I was frustrated with my situation. Frustrated with Lydia. Frustrated with God.

He wasn’t frustrated with me, however. Just faithful - like He always is. And He had a “never” and “always” absolute to rebuttal my own……

I’m sure you have heard someone say it. Perhaps you have even said it. And it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you have at least thought it. The words, “I’m a bad mom.”

Yes. There are “bad moms” in the world - moms that have abandoned, abused, or even murdered their own children. These are the moms that shouldn’t have been ones in the first place as they didn’t steward the gift of life that children are.

If you are wondering if you are a bad mom, the fact that you are even wondering that means that you aren’t. Yes, there are bad moms. But I doubt that you are one of them……

We were going to accomplish two big things yesterday – swim lessons in the morning and school in the afternoon. We successfully had the older three’s 40-minute swim lessons in DeWitt, Iowa in the morning and celebrated with Lunchables at Lincoln Park.

Unfortunately, we didn’t get any school done in the afternoon as my oldest ended up vomiting in the back of the van on the way home from our morning outing. Apparently, Lunchables plus hot sun plus vigorous swinging on a tire swing plus a van ride home do not mix……

I have invented this thing called the “Randleman Contingency Plan.” I came up with it shortly after I married Jeremiah. We were newlyweds and I found our love for each other, intoxicating. I’d take a look at my new husband and wouldn’t be able to breathe if I entertained the thought of him getting into a motorcycle accident or not making it home from an out-of-town trip. I remember pointing my finger at him one day and saying, “Don’t you dare leave me a widow!"……

Sometimes we remember, and sometimes we just forget - things like packing extra diapers, going to follow-up doctor appointments, buying fruit snacks or laundry soap while at the store, and more importantly - putting on our spiritual armor for the day……

When I first met her she was an angry, bitter old woman. I had a newborn and sitting in an aisle seat at church was just the sensible thing for a nursing mother with two small boys to do. I was in and out quite a bit during service and yet “set up camp” on the front row - which was a hot-commodity in our rapidly growing church plant. 

One Sunday morning, I got to church a little late to find someone in my seat. And not wanting to come across as being rude and asking her to move, I just smiled and sat next to her……

I got my sweet friend an orchid for her birthday last year. It was lovely and in bloom and spoke to me from inside the store. As I had hoped - she loved it. I felt that giving her flowers that would die days later wouldn’t be as special as a plant that would hopefully bloom year after year. And my use of the word “hopefully” wasn’t any reflection on her orchid-growing capability. 

It was on mine......

My dad is a builder - a brilliant builder I might add. He’s taken an old run-down acreage and farmhouse and transformed it into a slice of paradise. Over the years he’s completed many creative and challenging projects including a cedar-strip canoe, teardrop camper, and a cob oven......

“How much longer?” It’s a valid question. I asked it aplenty traveling in the car as a little girl. We lived on an acreage on the outskirts of a very small town for half of my childhood. We had to drive to get anywhere - including church which was 20 miles away. We were there every time the doors were open and drove that commute hundreds of times......