Loving My Children

I look at you, son, standing eye to eye, and I want to say I can’t believe you’re turning 13 . . . but I can. You blew out your candles last night, turned around, hoisted me into the air in front of everyone, and high-fived me. You passed me this year, just slightly taller. We grin and laugh about it, but in my heart I think,  I’m so glad you’re growing kind, too. That you use your strength to lift heavy boxes and to carry your baby sister. Your blonde hair, dirtier now than the white-gold I remember, is waving and curling around your ears.  I see your bald head as a baby, and tears trickle down my cheeks as I giggle and remember how I waited two years for your hair to grow. When it did, I didn’t want to cut a single one of those dancing curls. I still have some of them in a plastic bag tucked in a box in the attic. B ut it’s your smile that catches me, your wide grin stretching across your face, and your curls are like rays of sunshine beaming from that smile.

“Tell me a story, Mommy. Out of your mouth.” I learned at a very young age that the best stories were the true ones. The too-good-to-be-true ones. The too-crazy-to-be-true ones. I especially loved to hear about when my mom was a little girl like me, something proven by old photos that nevertheless confounded me. The idea of it seemed nearly impossible but simply wonderful at the same time. A pivotal point in my own story was when I crossed the threshold of faith and believed that the story of the Bible was true. The intersection of God’s love and glorious plan of redemption through Jesus Christ with my life was too wonderful for me to comprehend. Could it really be that the God who made the universe would humble himself, take on human flesh, and die on the cross for my sins? My heart burst with joy and my eyes overflowed with tears at this over-the-top, too-good-to-be-true story. That story changed everything for me. My life is now one continuous stream of stories that

Don’t think that because you’re going through something hard, God doesn’t see—or doesn’t care. In case you need some proof, look at this collection of birthday cards. Two years ago, I was practicing social distancing, but not because of a virus. Just as I was beginning to adjust and rejoice in my unexpected pregnancy, I found out that my baby had a 50% chance of survival. Then, on the Thursday before Easter, an ultrasound confirmed our loss. There was no heartbeat. On Good Friday, I carried death inside my body, and that realization brought fresh appreciation and meaning to the truth that God watched his own Son, Jesus, suffer and die on a cross for my sins. That Friday was also my birthday, the day I had planned to surprise my family and friends with the news of our baby’s life. Instead I stayed home, distancing myself from those I loved. But God surprised me. Unknown to me, a dear friend who had no idea about my pregnancy had sent out a broad request to friends and fam

"As a stay-at-home mom, it’s easy to go through a day on partial auto-pilot, not paying much attention to the thoughts that flow in and out of mind as I change diapers, load the dishwasher, read stories and prepare meals. Sometimes it isn’t until mid-day or even the end of the day that I realize I’ve spent more time listening to my “self” than talking to myself. The arrival of COVID-19 takes my thought struggle to a new level. "Whether at home or in a different place of work, any of us can dwell too long on when-we, we-wish, and if-only thoughts. We slip far too easily into comparison and discontentment, and we linger too long on hurts and grievances. We’re plagued by self-doubts and wonder what others think of us. We give in to fear and anxiety. We surrender far too much thought space to false feelings, false guilt, and false idols. "Many times, we don’t travel these streams of consciousness intentionally, but we also don’t aggressively cut them short. What see

"Last week, our family stocked up on necessary medical supplies for members of our household who are at higher risk for complications from COVID-19. On the same day, one friend scrambled to prepare space in her home to educate her daughters while another one called to ask about my homeschool routine—and if she might borrow curriculum—because all public schools in our county are closed through mid-April. Each of our lives has been disrupted, but I realize that despite our family’s weakness in one arena, I can offer help and support in another. As a homeschool teacher, I can provide resources and encouragement to my friends who have been unexpectedly thrust into doing this for the very first time." Read what I wrote to fellow homeschool families as well as first-timers in my new article today at Servants of Grace . One question for all of us to ask is, how do we love one another as Christ's body in this unique time? You can follow Katie Faris on  Facebook  and  Inst

“What does a typical home school day look like?” Structure, schedule, whatever you call it, that’s been the hot question my friends have been asking me today. Our county recently closed all public schools through mid-April, and my heart goes out to all the moms and dads who are trying to make sense of a new norm that includes educating their children at home in the wake of the coronavirus. Parents want to know—how do we do this? Even if teachers provide curriculum, how do we implement it? First, a few caveats. I don’t know your children, their personalities, or their individual learning needs—not to mention their academic levels. I don’t know what materials your district is providing. Also, it’s difficult to nuance when offering practical help. So, take what’s helpful; leave what’s not. In an uncommon situation, I’m writing in a manner that’s uncommon for me. What I do bring to the table is home schooling experience—my mom taught me at home for six years; I taught at a

Both as someone who lived in China during the SARS-CoV outbreak of 2003 and as a mom to children with an underlying medical condition that makes them vulnerable to respiratory complications, the unfolding news about coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) catches my attention. When I read in the CDC report, “It’s likely that at some point, widespread transmission of COVID-19 in the U.S. will occur,” I join moms around the globe in concern for their families.[1] In the face of unknowns and uncertainties, Peter’s pastoral words to women seem particularly relevant, “Do good and do not fear anything that is frightening” (1 Peter 3:6). Peter wrote these words to women who understood persecution and suffering, who lived in uncertain times. He points them to the example of Sarah, a woman commended for her faith in God (Hebrews 11:11). While acknowledging the existence of “frightening things,” he tells these women, “do not fear” and “do good.” The world is full of frightening thi