If you find yourself thinking, Why can’t we all just get along? Why can’t anyone seem to do the right thing? What the hell is wrong with the world??? Me too. Here’s what we can do.
Hey there! I’m Mikala—a family doctor, wife, mother of 5, well-being advocate, and author of the books Ordinary on Purpose and Everything I Wish I Could Tell You About Midlife. Each month my writing reaches millions of women, but I am thrilled to be connecting with YOU. I’m truly grateful to have you here!
All in Faith
If you find yourself thinking, Why can’t we all just get along? Why can’t anyone seem to do the right thing? What the hell is wrong with the world??? Me too. Here’s what we can do.
She carries her children’s joy and sorrow. She carries their goodness and pain. And every night she casts ALL the things she’s carrying off to Jesus as she prays over her children’s souls.
I wish I could say I’m the perfect mother. But…I’m not. Not even close. Day after day I mess up in a million ways, and I'm still the right mom for the job.
In tiny glimpses, it ALL feels like enough. My life. This hard, broken world. My family. Me, even.
I can’t believe this is my life. It’s messy and hard and ordinary and mostly unplanned. And so ridiculously beautiful.
I remember that I am not wired to carry the weight of the world. It isn’t fair.
“Please, God. Please. Can You please make it abundantly clear You are here?” And maybe it sounds crazy…but He did.
THIS it seems, is life. And ever-so-slowly I am beginning to understand that contentment is simply our best attempt at the beautiful ordinary living of it.
I walked and talked and cried as God cast long shadows through the golden light spreading across the dry grass and the bare tree branches against the early evening sky.
You are loved and adored. You are valuable and worthy. Simply because you are YOU…and you are HIS.
The Christmas Story isn’t about twinkly lights or making merry. And though the promises are everywhere, it’s not about making it ‘simple’ either. Not really.
I don’t think He’s keeping track, and I just don’t think He’s keeping score.
I did my best to silence the teeny little voice that whispered, “You must not be doing this right!”
Maybe He always meant for me to do motherhood as an imperfect human attempting to raise other imperfect little humans in a world full of trials and tragedies.
There is so much to do, yes. I know so often I’m moving too fast. But I don’t ever want to be too busy or stressed or distracted or overwhelmed that I forget to notice it all as it passes.
Won’t you grab my hand? Let’s decide to live and breathe and work and love wherever God has placed us. And let’s share our one precious, beautiful, ordinary life . . . together. I’ll be me. You be you.
I turn to the pile of backpacks on the floor. Markers and artwork scattered across the counter. Cartoons calling from the other room. Another stack of dishes piled up in the sink.
But sometimes in the middle of pain and sadness and anger and fear and devastation and despair, there is beauty and laughter and joy and love and warmth and hope.