We Sold Out (And Someone Wanted My Sample Jar 😄)

If you caught my last email about my Miami trip, I mentioned at the bottom that I had a market coming up last weekend. And y'all — I have to say it again — I love doing markets. There's something about meeting the very faces of the people who purchase my products that just fills me up. Hearing stories, sharing small talk, saying hi to a mama's little ones — it all feels so communal and right.

And despite a storm rolling through the Memphis area on Saturday, folks still showed up and showed out for the craft fair. I completely sold out of my Nourish Balms.

The sweetest thing happened — I had a sample jar I was using so people could try the balm before buying, and after I sold out, a lady came back to my table and asked me to sell her the sample jar. I was so honored, and honestly a little tickled. It was also a good reminder that I should probably double the amount of Nourish Balms I bring to markets from here on out.

It's such a good feeling knowing that something I made with my own hands resonates with people who are trying it for the first time. Another lady came up to ask how soon I could make more, took my information, and promised to come pick one up from me next weekend. So this weekend I'll be making a large batch — and shipping orders out early next week.

If you'd like yours, I'm running a bundle deal on Nourish Balms right now. Grab yours before this batch runs out. 🍯

Sale

Nourish and Restore Duo Set

Sale Price: $38.00 Original Price: $46.00

And truly — thank you for intentionally keeping Thoughtful Scents Co. in mind when you choose to shop. It means more than you know.

— Pondered Thought

Hello Miami! What 2 Nights Away Taught Me

I've been keeping a little secret — not that it was intentional. Life has just been moving at such top speed that I almost forgot it myself.

Back in October, my older sis mentioned she'd be spending a week in Miami for work the first week of March. The moment she said it, my mind drifted somewhere hopeful: what if I weaned our youngest — she'd be 18 months by then — and flew out to meet her for a little getaway?

I loved the daydream. I even started plotting out the practical steps it would take to make it happen. But honestly? A part of me was already bracing for it to fall through. Someone getting sick. A storm delaying my flight. My husband's work schedule not cooperating.

There've been many times I've had to miss a wedding, a weekend trip, or something special because my presence was needed at home. This is not a "woe is me" post — far from it. Being a wife and a mama to five babies I birthed within six years comes with real sacrifices — and I wouldn't want it any other way. But between breastfeeding, pregnancies, and early postpartum seasons, getting away has been rare.

I hoped for the best, but quietly braced myself just in case. I know... toxic coping.

Anyway, y'all — it happened. And it worked out better than good.

I HAD A BLAST.

From people-watching at the airport, to watching the clouds roll by from my window seat, to overhearing snippets of strangers' conversations and spinning little fictional stories about their lives (ha) — to walking into our hotel room and being completely taken aback by the view. To dinner at Prime 112. To wandering the streets of Miami with my hair free, soaking up every kiss from the sun, every breath of salty air, every soft step in the sand.

I read.

I crocheted.

I had sweet, unhurried moments with the Lord.

And I got to spend real time with my sister — watching her move in her element, witnessing the quiet but real impact she makes on the people around her and within her work. I walked away with a deepened respect for her that I didn't expect.

It was better than good.

So yes — Lord willing, I will be doing this at least annually. Two nights away gave me a change of scenery I didn't realize how desperately I needed. It also gave me a greater appreciation for the goodness of God in my life, because I finally had the stillness to step back and actually reflect on everything I'm walking through in this season.

I will not be waiting another ten years to do that again. 😄

That's my little update. I cried in gratitude more than once.

One more thing before I go — if you're local to Memphis, I'll be a vendor at a craft fair tomorrow from 10 AM–3 PM. It may be raining, but from what I hear, it's shaping up to be a wonderful fair full of unique handcrafted items. Come ready to take home a beeswax candle, a nourish balm, or both.

Hope to see you there!

Til next time, Jessica

More Than the Bells and Whistles: Selling, Serving, and Showing Up

Hey y’all,

This past weekend, I vended at the AgriCenter market 🕯️

Thank you to everyone who came out and supported—whether you stopped to shop, to chat, or simply to encourage. Saturday was a day I had been looking forward to, though I didn’t fully understand why.

There’s something life-giving about making something with your hands, carefully curating the packaging, setting up a booth, and then meeting the very faces—the hands, the souls—of the people who will ultimately use what you’ve created 🤍

I’m thankful for the online sales, the written reviews, and the kind text messages. I’m equally thankful for every stranger I spoke with on Saturday—conversations about the weather, vegan food, and dry skin after menopause (yes, that came up haha).

It was genuinely a joy ✨.

A funny (and humbling) story: I had a clear vision for how I wanted my booth to look. I designed business cards and paid extra to have them expedited—only for them to arrive after the market was over. I also had a table banner designed and ready to print, but ran into multiple issues finding a printer that could get it done in time. That, too, arrived days later.

Despite all of that, Saturday turned out beautifully.

It taught me something important. Often, the bells and whistles we place our hope in aren’t actually necessary. Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad I’ll have my business cards, banner, and (hopefully) a retractable poster setup next time. But what I’m saying is this:

The thing you think you have to have for God to move, or the thing you believe you’re lacking in order to finally have enough (whether tangible or intangible)—I’d challenge you to reconsider.

Perhaps it isn’t what you need right now in this very season after all 🙏🏽

Anywho, the day is moving along, and I’ll be heading off to prep lunch for my littles 🍽️

Merry Christmas 🎄

It’s officially time to slow down—to save that thing for the new year. If you needed the reminder, here it is.

Enjoy your family.

Tend to your close relationships.

Be present. Slow down.

When God Multiplies the Crumbs + A Small Favor

Heyyy...

What a few weeks it has been.

When Delafé recently posted a portion of my testimony, I didn’t expect the emails, comments, and DMs that followed. I honestly didn’t know if my words, at the time of recording, would do justice to the power of the Lord’s hand in my life.

But it just goes to show — what feels like crumbs to us, the Lord can breathe on and multiply into living bread for the souls of whomever He desires.

So share your testimony.
Share your praise report.
Share the goodness of the Lord — not just at church, but TODAY in that casual conversation with your friend, your kiddo, your spouse, your neighbor.

Share. Because He’s worth talking about.

And don’t overthink it. So often, we speak negatively, complain, or gossip without a second thought. What if today we flipped that — and intentionally shared something about why God is good? A real-life example. A moment where you saw His hand. Because He’s always doing something for His glory. Always. So let’s glorify Him with our speech today.

This has been my prayer over the last few years. I even printed it out and framed it in our living room because I love praying this:

“Even when I reach old age and have gray hair, God, do not forsake me,
until I have declared Your power to this generation
and Your might to the next one.”
— Psalm 71:18

Also — thank you for every single order made during last week’s “100 Candles Sold” sale! I truly had fun packing up each one and thinking about some of you lighting your candles in the days to come. 🕯️

Can you do me a little favor?

If you’ve received a candle and have been enjoying it, would you send me:

• a quick pic of your candle in your space

• and a short review (just a few words or a sentence is perfect)?

That would help me a ton while I figure out how to set up direct reviews on the website.

And if you’d still like to order a candle, just click the “100 Candles” pic below. Every order allows me reinvest back into this small business — to create new things, get into markets in the future, and honestly just keep figuring this all out in real time. It also gives me a little cushion to have some fun w/ the kiddos.

I’ll be releasing some new beeswax products in the coming weeks, so stay tuned!

My Costco Story: Learning to Yield Instead of Worry

If you’ve been following my recent emails, you know I’ve been having a lot of fun making and selling these candles 🕯️—thank you for all the love and support!

Today, I just wanted to hop on here and share a pondered thought I’ve been sitting with lately.

I don’t have the best segue so I’ll just hop right in!

Over the past few months, the Lord has been gently guiding me to pray a little differently.

Growing up, I’d usually begin my prayers by acknowledging who He is, praising Him, giving thanks, asking the Holy Spirit to reveal any areas I need to repent—and then I’d move into my favorite part: supplication.

• Help me to…

• Please help me to…

• Can You…?

  You may know the rhythm.

And while I still praise, give thanks, and repent, lately, He’s been teaching me something deeper:

👉🏾 Rather than only asking, He’s guiding me to declare and accept what He’s already provided—and to yield to it.

Let me explain.

Story time 📖

Some of you know that my husband and I have five small children. Our youngest is now 11 months old. 👶🏾

Last summer, I was very pregnant and waddling my way through Memphis’ blazing heat ☀️. One morning, my mom watched the kids so I could go do our biweekly Costco run.

At checkout, I chatted with a cashier who’d seen me often. We talked about her family, her vacation plans, and staying safe in the heat. After she handed me my receipt, I began making my way out.

But after just a few steps, I heard:

“Excuse me, baby. Excuse me. ”

I turned around, and there she was—she had left her register (with a line still waiting) just to catch me.

I figured I’d left a purchased item behind.

Instead, she shared a message with me.

One that was more than timely.

It was prophetic.

Without any sort of disclaimer, the cashier spoke very slowly and very deliberately:

“He told me to tell you…‘Don’t worry. Everything is already taken care of. Already provided. But He said, ‘Don’t you worry. Ok? Don’t worry, baby. It’s all taken care of. ’”

“Yes ma’am,” I said making sure to not allow any teardrops to fall in fear of the watergates flooding all of Costco.

She started walking away… then suddenly turned back and said, more sternly:

“Don’t worry.”

It wasn’t encouragement. It was a command. 💬

She hadn’t read my journal entries. She didn’t know about my worries—
worries about the pregnancy…
about the delivery…
about the logistics of postpartum life…
about the lingering items still on our to-do list.

No, she hadn’t read my “worry-of-a-prayers list “

I walked to the car. Had the guys load me up. And I sat in the driver’s seat, munched on some chips, and cried.

That moment felt different. The Lord was giving me a choice:
To rise up and choose not to worry.

Not to wait until everything was solved or to wait for the worry to suddenly disappear…
but to choose to rest in what He’s already promised.

So now, can I share with you how the Lord has been guiding me in my prayers months since?

This is certainly not a formula.

Just a window into my journey with the Lord as of late.

A few nights ago, something happened and worry began to grip my heart. But instead of the panicked “help me to…and change this” list— I felt myself naturally praying.

“Lord, You have given me everything I need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3).

Therefore, by the power of Your Holy Spirit, I choose not to worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough trouble of its own (Matthew 6:34).

Thank You, Lord, for today.
Thank You for the delicious food my family and I feasted on.

Thank You for protection…that no one got hurt.

Thank You for the gas we had for us to get out of the house and go out and play.

Thank You for the host of angels you sent to guard and protect us from seen and unseen dangers.

Thank You for gifting me a husband who is an awesome spiritual covering, provider, and friend that my soul needs.

I thank You for how You’ve already figured out this problem that I have about tomorrow.

I choose not to worry and go to sleep resting in Your peace.

I love You.

And as I spoke the Word aloud, I felt my whole body exhale.

It’s like my body had no other choice but to respond to Truth. 🕊️

I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t know what the Father is teaching you in this season. But I do know this:

Some of our prayers have already been answered.
We just need to yield to the truth of His Word.
To stop praying like orphaned beggars.
To pray like beloved children who trust their Father.

He already sees.
He already knows.
He already has a plan.

And so, I’m learning to pray not from panic—but from a posture of rest and expectancy.

I don’t do this perfectly. But thankfully, my prayers don’t depend on me. 🙌🏾
They’re grounded in His Word, not my fear. I can simply lean on and speak His Word instead of my panic.

Love y’all. 💛

If you’re in Memphis, stay cool in this weather.

And thank you again for every single one of you has purchased a candle!

Exhaustion to Grace: How I’m Learning to Serve

Happy 4th!

I woke up this morning and got the unexpected surprise of my sister volunteering to pick up my four oldest kiddos to take them to hang out with her and some of my extended family. God bless my sis!!

After cleaning up, making some homemade pizza for myself and my hubby, and enjoying some much-needed quality time together, I found that I had some down time to do what I love—write a blog post.

Sourdough pizza from freshly-milled einkorn wheat berries. Y’all, I’m quite proud of myself and the skills I’m honing year by year. Made 3 large pizzas like this because I thought the kiddos were going to be here. Since I have a hard time digesting cow’s milk (though I still indulge sometimes), I made a separate one for myself with goat’s cheese. Just as delish!

Not that you asked, but wanna know what’s been on my mind?

Lately, the Holy Spirit has been leading me to meditate on 1 Peter. This past week, it’s been difficult to move past the following verses:

9 Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.
10 Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.
11 If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen.

1 Peter 4: 9-11

Night after night, my eyes keep resting on verse 11:

"If anyone serves, they should do so WITH THE STRENGTH GOD PROVIDES."

WHY?

So that in all things, God may be praised through Jesus Christ.

Y’all.

That part.

So…I’m a mother.

And if you are a mother, or serve in any caretaking role in its many forms, you know that you serve. In fact, you find yourself serving constantly.

There have been times when I’ve lashed out at my husband in exhaustion because, quite frankly, I’ve been tired of serving.

Some of those times may have been warranted—haha, I digress—but many of those times, I was serving… but doing so from a place of Jessica's strength. Certainly not God's.

How do I know?

Because, many of those times, I was serving by completing tasks and lists that were never warranted by my Creator to complete. Sometimes, I’ve felt the Lord literally tell me to GO TO BED, and I look at a set of dirty dishes and think, “Just one more thing, and then I’ll…”

It’s in the moments when I finally yield myself and my plans to Him that His strength takes over, and I suddenly feel a grace and operate under a covering that I didn’t know could exist. And though the day can still be challenging, it no longer feels so weighty. Can you relate?

Story time.

One Sunday morning, my husband and I were running late to attend our church—like, a whole 60 minutes late. But we had already gotten all the kids dressed and ready, so we decided to visit another church where we knew the pastor and some of the congregants.

When we arrived, worship had just begun, and at this church, it was encouraged to spread out and worship comfortably since there was space.

I took our youngest daughter (5 months old at the time) to worship at the back of the church. I sat down on the concrete floor and breastfed while the worship hymn “I Surrender All” washed over me.

While singing, I found myself having a difficult time uttering the words, “I surrender…all.”

I kept trying to sing the lyrics but couldn’t.

I asked the Holy Spirit what was up, and what He spoke to me made me pause.

“Do less…so I can do more.”

“Huh?”

I heard it so clearly again.

“Do less…so I can do more.”

I hadn’t been surrendering... all.

In fact, I was doing way too much.

Images of me rushing, cleaning, stressing—and not resting in Him—came to mind.

Here’s the beautiful thing about 1 Peter 4:11:

When we serve through the strength He gives, who gets the glory?

Honey, HE DOES.

When I serve through my own strength, however “good” I think my intentions are, Jessica gets the glory, not Him.

After that Sunday, I wrestled with the idea of what “doing less” meant for a mom of 5 little ones.

I kept asking, “But how????????!”

From there, the Lord has me on a current journey.

It began with taking a Sabbath every Saturday evening to Sunday evening. Now, by Saturday evening, I’m sitting down reading a good magazine or watching a YouTube video, lol. I’m forced to trust Him on whatever chores don’t get done by Monday.

And more recently, He has me yielding by practicing going to bed by a certain time. Still working on that last part. It’s a journey for sure.

Anywho, I leave you with this encouragement:

Serve. But only through the strength He provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen.

Back to my chill mode before the kiddos arrive home.

Talk soon,
Pondered Thought

In what area are you currently needing to rely on the Lord’s strength and not your own?

😄 Still waiting on my tomato… but look what else grew!

A few weeks ago, I shared that I was planning to plant a vegetable garden on our patio for the first time ever.

If you know me, you know I didn’t grow up with a vegetable garden—and I’ve never grown a single vegetable in my life.

So, it only made sense to keep my goal simple: just one tomato. Just one!

Well... I haven’t gotten my tomato yet. But I’ve had fun watching everything else grow from seed.

Here are a few before-and-after photos so far.

Before

Dazzling Blue Kale

Peppers

Tomatos

It has been a joy seeing most of these start from seed. (Though I did stick the heads of some leeks and bok choy into the soil one day after using some from the store to make dinner and planted from there 😄.)

My husband and I don’t have a yard…yet. But we DO have a patio. These last few years, the Lord has been teaching me the power of taking whatever we have and multiplying it. My revelation stems from this verse in Proverbs.

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. Proverbs 14:4

It often requires resources to produce a harvest. Therefore whatever resources I do have, coupled with some intention and labor, will produce something.

Instead of waiting for “one day,” I’m thankful the Lord is having me to enjoy TODAY.

May you see the resources you do have in your possession, have fun being creative, and put it to work! And may you enjoy the fruit of your harvest (in whatever capacity).

Trust me, I’ll let you know when I get my first tomato!

Toodaloo,

Pondered Thought

(P.S. Would love to know any plants you’ve planted and which ones are thriving right now!)

OUR Baby Turns 5 Tomorrow!

5.26.25

I pray you were able to enjoy rest and extra time with loved ones this weekend.
We certainly did.

Our oldest daughter turns five tomorrow, and today we celebrated her birthday surrounded by aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, and friends. It was a sweet time.

As her birthday approaches, I’ve found myself reflecting on her life. I can recall her birth story like it was yesterday—etched into my memory with clarity.

In past years, her birthdays have come and gone with a natural rhythm.

But this year feels different. This is the first time I’ve caught myself thinking: How could it possibly have been five years since I stared into my newborn baby’s eyes? Howww?

Time is such a mystery. A single day can feel like a year, and a year like a fleeting moment. I often return to this prayer:
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).

As each year passes, I find myself thinking more about eternity. It's in the eternal that I find rest. It’s in His presence that I’m assured I’m always home. And it’s in the knowing that what I do today—here, in this temporary world—has eternal impact, that I look at my daughter with both joy and deep purpose.

I smile at her and pray not just for many more trips around the sun, but for a future that stretches into eternity. I pray I’ll hold her hand not only in this life, but in the millions of years to come.

Number your days, my friend.
This life is but a breath.
Live today as if you'll stand before His throne tomorrow.

With love,
A grateful heart

Well, That Was Different: Birth Story Baby #5

Lord knows, birth is an incredible and powerful experience.

It changes you in ways that sometimes feel too sacred to speak about.

Typically, I write about my birth experiences in much detail.

See below:

This time, I’m writing about the birth of our beautiful daughter, Zuri Estelle Stephens, in a way that varies from the rest. In part, because I’m still processing much of it. The Lord is still speaking to me regarding it.

How can one of my most difficult labor and delivery experiences be positive?

Well, it is—not due to the absence of difficulty.

It’s positive due to the presence of the Lord.

His hand upon this birth was exceptionally evident.

Let me start from the beginning.

Our baby girl was due on Monday, August 19th, 2024.

The day before her due date, I acknowledged a feeling that I’d been having for a few days up until that point—nervousness.

While sitting in our Sunday morning church service, thoughts of anxiousness overwhelmed me. I pulled out my journal and began writing out birthing affirmations and scriptures to settle my mind. I mouthed them out over and over until the end of service. Don’t ask me what the sermon was about that day.

In the lobby, someone asked me, “Are you ready for this baby to come? You’re such a pro.”

I looked at this lady with steady eyes and a vulnerable heart. “This is the first time that I’m nervous and I don’t know why,” I replied. A mother of 4 herself, I felt this lady embrace me without touch.

Later that afternoon, I went to the library to check out a few books to read during my postpartum period (in the event that our baby girl came that week.)

While there, a mother stopped me and pointed to my belly, “Is this your first?” she questioned. I peered down into her stroller and saw her baby girl who looked to be about one years old. “No, fifth,” I said bashfully, bracing myself for the incoming shock.

She looked at me with admiration and quiet pause. She then shared with me how she herself went almost 2 weeks overdue and how that was the longest 2 weeks of her life. I confided to this stranger how I felt like my baby wasn’t coming yet and that her story encouraged me. Typically, my previous babies were no more than a few days over the due date or were right on time. But for some reason, in that moment, I felt so strongly that my baby wasn’t coming just yet.

The next day, our youngest son got a fever.

I began praying immediately that our baby girl wouldn’t come until our one-year-old’s fever broke. On Tuesday of that week, my doula informed me that she would need to be out of town for a few days and wouldn’t return until that Saturday. Although she had a backup doula on standby for me, I really wanted/needed my doula, who was like a mother to me after attending my three previous births, to be there. At that point, I began praying that our baby wouldn’t debut until at least that Saturday evening.

Guess what? The Lord, in His sovereignty, answered both prayers.

My son’s fever broke on that Thursday. My doula changed her flight and came back on Saturday morning instead of that Saturday evening. And my baby continued to nestle herself quite comfortably in my womb.

By that Monday, one week past my due date, my midwife checked me. I was only 3 cm dilated and my baby wasn’t in the best position. She did a membrame sweep and then I went to my doula’s house so she could work with me on some bodywork/inversions to help the baby engage my cervix a little more and to help my baby girl turn a little bit more for optimal position.

Later that night, I began having more intense Braxton Hicks contractions.

The next day, which was Tuesday of that week, my midwife checked me again. My baby had turned a little bit more. We decided to wait another day before doing any further interventions. Praise God her heartbeat was strong and healthy.

After leaving my midwife’s office, I went home. Up until then, my mom and sister had begun coming over daily for at least 7-10 days prior to help me with the kids, their homeschool lessons, and chores.

We were all expecting the baby to come at any moment. On that morning, I felt the Lord whisper to me gently to consecrate our home by only playing worship music. Typically, I’d listen to some sort of social commentary regarding world events while cooking or cleaning. But I listened to the beckoning of the Holy Spirit.

While listening to some worship, I began making me some postpartum lentil soup to freeze, dinner for the family for the next few days, and some sourdough sandwich loaves. My husband let me know that morning that he and our four-year-old daughter were praying that our baby girl would come that Tuesday night.

Apparently in the middle of my husband praying, our daughter interrupted him and said, “No , Daddy. I’m going to pray that the baby comes tomorrow morning so that I can see her.”

Later that Tuesday evening, I mopped, cleaned out the fridge, and then went to bed. I still felt like the baby wasn’t yet engaging my cervix.

At 12:30 AM on that Wednesday morning, I awakened out of my sleep with an intense contraction. I went to use the restroom and immediately had to poop. More contractions came and I began timing myself.

By 1:00 AM I woke up my husband and asked him to grab my headphones so I could listen to my Christian hypnobirthing app. He went to our car in the garage to grab them and upon his return I told him that I needed him to stay with me. The contractions were intensifying more quickly than I anticipated.

By 1:30 AM I texted my midwife and doula.

45 minutes later my water broke and I felt ready to push. My doula arrived seconds after my water broke and my midwife arrived minutes later.

My midwife wanted to check the position of the baby before I began pushing.

My baby girl still wasn’t in the best position. Because of this, I couldn’t push yet and needed to do a few contractions in different positions to see if she would turn. Well, after about 2 hours of contracting and waiting to see if our baby girl would turn, my midwife suggested that it would be best for me to transfer to the hospital to have my back up OB turn my baby girl internally.

See how I’m typing this all nice and neatly?

Let me tell you, those were the longest 2 hours. My body was signaling that it was time “to push” but baby girl was not in a position to be pushed out. So I was sweating, getting nauseous, experiencing increased contractions as if she were coming any second, yet she wasn’t.

The short drive from our home to the hospital was tough. Again, at this point, my body was yelling for me to push but I needed to wait. So the pain was intense.

The Lord is so kind. When my midwife reached out to my OB, he was able to meet us at the hospital immediately. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. We arrived at the hospital, and after about 40 minutes (I had to receive fluids and get an epidural), my OB was ready to see if he could turn baby girl internally. I wasn’t prepared for the pain of that procedure. The epidural hadn’t fully kicked in yet, and I felt quite a bit of pressure. At one point my OB said, “There’s no other way, we must turn her.” Then minutes later, he said, “Well, there’s no going back. She’s coming out.” And praise GOD, she did.

Our baby girl was born at 8:02 AM on Wednesday 8/28/24.

She came out healthy and with a head full of hair. She came out face first. A lot of the nurses had never seen that before. Because of her positioning and how she came out, her face was quite swollen and bruised from pressing against my pelvic bone. Over the next two days, I cried a LOT due to wondering if Zuri experienced any pain during her birth… if me opting to not do pelvic floor therapy (to save $$) during my pregnancy caused her to be in an odd position…if I could’ve done anything to have helped her change positions. The thoughts plagued me. My hormones were also doing the typical dramatic shift in approach of my milk coming in (so that contributed to the tears as well).

But after a few days, the Lord in His gentleness revealed to me just how much His hand was upon this birth.

Exactly, 14 days before Zuri arrived, the Lord led me to invite family and friends to do a virtual prayer call for my labor and delivery. My husband and I typically do this for all of our births, but this time I felt led to extend the invite to even more of my extended family.

He allowed Zuri to come after my youngest son broke his fever.

The sickness didn’t spread to any of our other kids either.

My doula was able to be in attendance for this birth.

My mom taught one of the young nurses who attended me. This nurse held my hand during my final push.

The lady who cleaned me up after Zuri was born knew me, was a subscriber to this blog, and was a member of my father in law’s church.

There were so many people the Lord used to go before me in preparation of my daughter’s birth.

Just like her birth date 8/28, the Lord allowed me to see the workings of Romans 8:28 played out: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

I’m not sure what you’re going through.

I’m not sure of the things you may be questioning.

But I am sure that God is good. We live in a fallen world.

Sometimes it feels like there are more questions than answers. May your less than ideal circumstance not color the unchanging characteristic of our God.

He is good. He sees you. He loves you. And He absolutely cares. Keep running to Him. Rest in Him. And allow Him to answer your questions, in time. Sometimes the reprieve you need is not an answer but His Presence. Abide in Him, so that as you cry, He can be the one to wipe.

As I grow older, the answers I receive are found less in reasoning and more in a Person. Trust me, I don’t know what I don’t know. But I know, I need Him.

I guess I did write about this birth in detail haha.

—PonderedThought

My daughter wanted to cry but didn’t. I wish she had.

Well, the time has arrived. Our baby girl is due to arrive in a matter of days. And my body is beginning to feel it.

By 3pm, my body is tired y’all.

I’m thankful to our village who has stepped in and come alongside to help us tremendously over the course of these last few weeks in preparation for our sweetheart’s debut.

Last week, my sister visited me after she got off of work and the moment she stepped through the door, I grabbed my keys to go for a walk alone at our local gym.

After my walk, I came home and waddled my little pregnant body to the couch and plopped down. I watched my sister sweep, vacuum, and sequester the energy of my four kiddos towards picking up random items off the floor. When all was said and done, my sister then began making a craft with my four-year-old daughter. I know. I know. My sister is the best.

Apparently, my four-year-old had been waiting patiently for this moment. My sister and her took out some wooden pieces and began following instructions to make an airplane. Within five minutes, my other 2-year-old daughter grabbed a vital piece of the craft and broke it in half.

I heard my older daughter cry out in anger. She then got up, and ran to the living room where I was laid out on the couch.

Customarily, my daughter would run to me screaming and crying with all of her very big 4-year-old emotions.

But this time, she ran past me… towards another couch.

I stared at her from a distance and observed.

She began self-soothing herself by sucking her finger and sitting still.

“Ada, are you okay?” I questioned, while still very much laid out on the couch.

She didn’t say anything.

She simply nodded her head while I caught the slightest glisten coat her uniquely-shaped almond eyes.

I reached out both of my hands so as to invite her over to me—something she never denies—but she dismissed the gesture.

Everything in me wanted her to run to me for comfort. Up until this point in her age, I was her safe space. My lap witnessed much of her pain. My hands wiped away the majority of her tears. My nose knew the scent of her hair. My ankles knew the exact cadence to rock her up and down to calm any of her emotions.

I was there.

I often was there.

But here I was “there” but refused.

It felt strange.

Out of resepect for her 4-year-old dignity, I didn’t say anything and kept observing her in silence.

In the presence of my sister, she desired to appear a certain way.

Within the next hour, my sister left. And sure enough, my precious little girl burst into tears.

Everything she had been withholding spilled forth.

“Elena broke the piece of my airplane. I was waiting patiently Mama because Cece (my sister) kept doing other things. And then, when CeCe and I were about to put the plane together, Elena broke it!” she exclaimed, crying theatrically.

Later that night, I told my husband the story.

The highlight wasn’t my 4-year-old’s tears. Tears, screaming, whining are quite the usual noises over here in our household.

Instead, the highlight of my story was how it crushed me not being able to hold my daughter in a moment when I knew she was in such anguish. How l had to sit there and witness her stuff down her disappointment. How I had to watch her try to be strong when I knew she felt weak.

My daughter only did this due to the presence of my sister.

But can I share something personal with you?

How often do I do this in the private presence of my own Heavenly Father?

How often do I mask frustration, anger, anxiety, overwhelm in my everyday prayers instead of reverently having a meltdown within my heavenly Father’s arms?

How often do I stuff down how I’m really feeling in His presence, in an effort to act like “everything is fine. I need not complain. It could be worse.” When He wants to be the One to hear me share with Him how I’m truly feeling. He wants to be the One to lend me His perspective. He wants to be the One to watch me run to His Word and say it aloud even when I don’t fully believe it but still say it in faith. He wants to be the One to watch me worship Him despite how I feel . He wants to be the One to see me fall to my knees and quietly say “base” after running for too long and too hard. He wants to be the One.

It’s hard to forget the imagery of my daughter standing at a distance in the midst of her emotional angst. Her distance felt foreign.

For the one reading this, if you’re anything like me, allow me to challenge you.

Next time you find yourself battling an array of emotions, instead of running to that one thing to give you a false sense of resolve or strength- albeit a drink, a television show, some IG scrolling, an unwarranted purchase, work, a party, or even some much needed housework etc.- journal or talk aloud to the King of Kings. First, acknowledge who you’re talking to by recalling who He is and then unashamedly express to Him what He already knows.. Feel free to acknowledge how you’d like to feel instead and leave it to Him to draw the bridge between your current reality and your desired future.

He just wants to be the One you come to. So come. Just come.