I had one of my favorite bedtime conversations to date with this gal this week.


Hattie: “Mommy, I’m scared of the dark.”

Me: “You don’t need to be scared, Sweetie. God says he has his angels all around us to protect us.”

Hattie: “But why can’t I see them?”

Me: “I don’t know. That’s the way God decided that it would be.” (I could use help with answering this question better in the future. Anyone?)

Hattie: “Is Jesus an angel?”

Me: “No, the Bible says that Jesus is even higher and greater than the angels.”

She pauses and ponders her next thought for a moment.

Hattie: “Mommy?”

Me: “Yes?”

Hattie: “If you put your finger in your nose, it turns like a key.”

Me (laughing): “Yes, it does.”


I love her trains of thought…I only wish mine came to such enjoyable conclusions.

Instead, they go something more like this:


Could it be because they’ve all been sick up until about two days ago and then went to three different Halloween parties yesterday and have eaten six pounds of candy each and went to bed an hour and half late last night and holidays make them think the world revolves around them?

No. That couldn’t be it.

Christian loved and appreciated his Halloween costume.

Christian loved and appreciated his Halloween costume.

It must be because I’m a terrible mother.

I haven’t disciplined them consistently enough lately.  Or maybe I’ve disciplined them too much. Maybe they don’t realize how loved they are. I should take them on a Mommy Date. No, I should spank them. That’s what they need—a good sound spanking. And a toy. And a chore chart. And I should do more stuff off Pinterest. Those moms on Pinterest never have cranky kids. Look at their sweet babies playing quietly at their sensory tables and never throwing all that sand on the floor. I hate those mothers.

When is naptime?

Where is Christian?

(What kind of mother doesn’t know where her two-year-old is?)

But, seriously, where is he?

I need a nap.

I stink at this.

Mothering is too hard for me.

Three children are too hard for me.

(Oh! The baby kicked!)

Wait. I’m about to have four.

Four children.

I’m about to be a mom to four small children. Four small, CRANKY children.



We took a parenting class taught by our wonderful pastor just after Christian was born. In the Hall House, the debate was on about whether or not to stop there.

Three was proving awfully daunting. Any more might just be crazy (or drive me crazy, one or the other.)

But a light bulb went on for Josh and I in that class. The pastor quoted Psalm 127:3, a verse I have mentioned here a half a dozen times.

“Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him.”

He said that the word “reward” here is translated from the same word also used to mean “wage” or “paycheck.” In other words, this verse could say something like, “Children are a paycheck from God,” and not be far off.

And as our not-in-any-way greedy pastor pointed out, “Who doesn’t want more paychecks?”

So for Josh and I (who very much like paychecks), “Why wouldn’t we want more kids?” became the obvious question.

Because if we believe God and if we trust that he’s serious when he makes a promise in his Word, then this, friends, is darn good promise to cash in on.

‘Cause we all want more paychecks, don’t we?


No, it won’t be easy, but no job is. No job is always fun. No job makes us feel like a million bucks everyday. There are none that are perfect or without their setbacks.

But if the paycheck is good enough, most jobs are worth it.

This one certainly is.


That class was 2 years ago now.

Since then, when it became obvious that more kids were in God’s plan for us, we’ve gone through some difficult times.

We’ve seen some ugly fits. Cleaned up a lot of bodily fluids. Prayed our way through some surgeries. Failed our way through many moments. Lost one darling to miscarriage and realized some major inadequacies in ourselves and our abilities.

Parenting will do that to you.

There are days (or weeks) when our thoughts will scream, “You are not capable! You cannot handle one child. You certainly can’t do two. Why even think about three? Any more is just foolish. You can’t do it.”

And we might as well be honest and agree. We can’t do it.

But God can. And he says he’ll pay us for it.

So take that, you ugly screamy thoughts you. You lie, but God doesn’t.


Whether they be biological, adopted, fostered or mentored, don’t miss your chance to cash in, friends.


Children are worth it.

(By the way, someone remind me I said this in about 5 months, eh?)