Hi you. It’s me again.|| A Letter to Myself

A lot has happened in my life lately.

We picked up and moved from the only town we have ever known. My husband’s work schedule is never the same two weeks in a row, so we barely see each other anymore. My daughter is in kindergarten and she loves it, but it comes with its own set of new challenges. I recently went back to work full-time at a new job I am already crazy about, but leaves me with limited time to have the house, shopping, dinner and laundry all done.

It’s exhausting. I can’t speak for other moms, but there are days it can mentally break me. My emotions start to become erratic and I find myself snapping at Lilah more than I should or forgetting to tell Jack “I love you”.

Then in the quietest moments, usually when I am driving alone or laying in bed at night, I can feel Him remind me. “You are not in control. I am. Let go Kasarah, just let go.” All the sudden I am at complete peace. The house, the dinner, even my job don’t feel so big anymore in the grand scheme of life. But I will be the first to admit, I let those feelings creep back in after a few days. So I decided to write a letter to my mentally broken self while I am under God’s peace.

It’s me again and I need to tell you something. 

The measure of your motherhood doesn’t come from keeping up with the laundry. Although, walking around the two baskets full of clean clothes is even starting to annoy you. It doesn’t come from keeping a house clean or decorated for every season. Even though you think about it every time you are in Target or Hobby Lobby.

You don’t need to compare yourself to other mothers. You cannot be anyone else other than you. And our little brown hair girl thinks YOU hung the moon. Be the example only you can set with love, grace and mercy. The rest are minor details. 

The measure of being a good wife doesn’t come from having a homemade dinner ready every night. God bless our mom though. It doesn’t come from how much money you can contribute to the family budget. It doesn’t even come from trying to stay fit, pretty or in style. I mean for goodness sake he didn’t even notice the last time you got your hair colored. 

So say I love you every day without being prompted, even when it’s undeserved. And yes I know, some days are really, really hard. But swallow your pride or selfishness and remember who loves you when you don’t deserve it. Find time to praise him for all the things you take for granted. Be his helper, not his enemy. 

The measure of being a good professional doesn’t mean spending extra hours at your office. It doesn’t mean putting your family second because you tell yourself it will be worth it “in the end”. I know you can get caught up in it or feel pressured to stay, but don’t. 

Go home at 5pm. Don’t be afraid to ask for flexible hours because you have no after school care for your kid. Never apologize for being a mother and always brag about your cute kid pictures on the wall. Work for an organization that values the family and respects your faith. Reflect His love to those you work with and do not fear oppression. 

Your measure of worth comes from Christ. It is that simple. He died for you, He loves you and that is a measure you cannot define. 

Re-read the last paragraph, then take a breath and let go. 



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