From Hallelujahs to Homework: A Mom’s Walk with Christ

Yes, I’m religious. I am a Christian. I follow Jesus—not just through hymns and hallelujahs but through spilled milk, school runs, and silent prayers in supermarket queues.

Following Jesus, for me, is less about the stained-glass moments and more about the messy middle. He’s not just the Savior in sandals—I like to think He’d be the kind of friend who’d help me find my car keys and laugh when I find them in the fridge.

As C.S. Lewis wrote, “Relying on God has to begin all over again every day, as if nothing had yet been done.” Some mornings, I restart that reliance before brushing my teeth.

There are days when my prayers sound like shopping lists. There are days when they sound like sighs. And yet, grace meets me there. Jesus isn’t waiting for my perfect posture—He meets me mid-eyeroll, mid-chaos, mid-coffee.

When I tell my children that Jesus loves them, I’m also reminding myself that He loves me too—even when I lose my temper and find it again in five minutes. “My grace is sufficient for you,” He said (2 Corinthians 12:9), and I cling to that like WiFi during a Zoom call.

Faith doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it’s a whispered “thank You” while folding laundry.

Thought to ponder:
If Jesus walked into your life today—mid-mess, mid-doubt, mid-dream—would you recognize Him in the small, sacred interruptions? Maybe holiness isn’t found in doing big things, but in doing small things with a big heart.