Have you ever felt like motherhood completely swallowed you whole? Like your identity, life, and passions all evaporated? I did, and as I neglected myself, I slowly fell apart. Yet God led me to stories, and used them to piece my heart back together.

Giving space for our children's imagination requires our patience. Here's how God has helped me learn to slow down and give my little ones the space to imagine—and how that's helped my own imagination in the process.

When all the trials of motherhood assail us, we can trust that through it all, Christ will hold us fast. Here's my story of trusting Christ to hold me fast through postpartum depression and anxiety.

A little story about why folding fitted sheets carries feelings of friendship, love, and patience for me.

I grew up writing and weaving stories—stories of chasing wild horses, children with mystical powers, and worlds unlike ours. But then as I grew up, I thought I had to outgrow fairytales, too. I had to write only inspirational articles and how-tos that told people what to think and believe. Yet as I cradled little children in my arms and read stories to them, and the scorching fires of suffering charred me, the inspirational and how-tos started to feel a little trite. I turned to stories for life, and my love was rekindled. Now, I want to help you rekindle that child-like heart that loves the fairytales and stories and show you how they can impact your faith as well.

Can a friendship last even if you strongly disagree on theological points? Yes, and it should—because it will sharpen both of you.

As I sat next to Daniel at his grandmother’s funeral, I couldn’t help but marvel at what a legacy she left. Sitting at the front was her youngest daughter, Daniel’s mother, who she had raised in the faith. Behind her and Daniel’s dad sat me and Daniel, followed by Daniel’s sister and brother and his wife and children. Each of us, spouses and all, clinging to that same faith she taught her daughter who then taught it to them.

More than six million people in the United States alone face intrusive thoughts. Perhaps you’re one of those people. And perhaps like me, these thoughts rattle you and your faith at times. What’s wrong with me? How can I, one redeemed by Christ and indwelt by the Holy Spirit, experience these kinds of disturbing, violent, or sexual thoughts?

April was c-section awareness month. All month long I scrolled past social media posts empowering me to stop seeing my scars as a failure but as celebration of what my body could do. Those posts angered me. My body did fail me, I thought. There’s a bit of truth to that, but I’m learning that there is still cause for celebration—though not in me and my body, but in a God who is much greater.

Does motherhood feel more fearful that joyful? It did for me, and here’s how God comforted me in my unending anxiety.

My husband jumped up from the floor and opened his arms to embrace me. “You’re pregnant, babe! We’re going to have a baby!” He wrapped me in his arms, and immediately my heart and mind both began racing. How can it be? How did it happen so easily? How am I pregnant so quickly? And then, the inevitable thought, What if I miscarry?