I remember my first anxiety attack. I was in my freshman year at high school, and it was a few days before we picked classes for sophomore year. I had come home from school with the long course catalog and was sitting on the couch with it in my lap. My mind started racing, overwhelmed by all the choices of classes I had in front of me. I’ve always been the kind of person who gets panicky when I feel overwhelmed by a big-picture process. 

Compared to the vast amount of choices, it felt like my schedule wouldn’t fit them all. Suddenly, I felt like the choices I made would have a great impact on the rest of my life; like somehow if I made the wrong choice of classes, my whole path would be altered. I felt ill-prepared to make a decision so soon. I hadn’t thought about the course of the rest of my life at fifteen years old. 

Having children is no joke. They will stretch you, they will challenge you, and they will push you to places mentally, physically, and emotionally that you have never been before.

I think the biggest lesson any parent learns is that everything changes. Nothing about life is designed to stay steady. If you’re a woman, your body changes in order to grow and bring that baby into the world. You gain weight; you find you have more skin, stretch marks, and changes to your body than you ever thought possible. Your body does new things like make milk and pushes the limits of exhaustion during those months and sometimes years that you wake up and settle your children back to sleep.

Heartbroken. What a devastating word to attach to oneself. And in a day and age where we so fiercely guard our hearts and treat things like love and trust like it’s a privilege to bestow only on those closest to us, a word like heartbroken almost feels like an admission to carelessness or weakness. We act like it’s something to be ashamed of; like it’s something to hide.

At the start of a new year, we tend to think that we should be living amazing lives. If you are, that’s great! If you aren’t, I want to first tell you that it’s okay, but I also want to challenge you with a question: What are you measuring your success by?

A little over a year ago my family and I were at a wedding in Texas. During the reception, I received a text from my aunt asking me to have my dad call my uncle. I remember feeling a check in my spirit that something was really wrong. I watched my mom and dad from a window as they stepped outside to make the call. The distraught look on their faces confirmed the uneasiness I had.