A New Year, A New Mindset

New Year’s Day, for many, is a time to renew those promises we make to ourselves — to exercise more, eat healthier, save more money, spend less time online, be more present, rebuild strained relationships, or maybe even travel more.

But if we’re honest, by the end of the first week of January, many of those resolutions have already fallen off the proverbial wagon.

The truth is, resolutions are a lot like diets — they don’t always work. Not because we aren’t capable, but because we often make them without first taking time to sit still and really think about what we’re committing to. Is it truly feasible? Is it something we’re ready to sustain? Is it even what we’re meant to be doing right now?

Before setting goals for the new year, it’s worth pausing to ask God for direction. The Scripture reminds us, “In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths.” (Proverbs 3:6)

This past year, I decided to make small, intentional changes rather than lofty resolutions. Some things I began doing to eat healthier were sitting down and planning my meals for the week, then shopping based on that list. It took away the stress of coming home from work exhausted and grabbing whatever I could find to eat — usually something unhealthy. It also saved me money, since I wasn’t making random grocery runs or picking up fast food on a whim. It felt good to come home, cook from my meal plan, and know I was nourishing myself with purpose.

I also wanted to exercise more, but after climbing three flights of stairs after work, I knew I wasn’t going back down to the gym. So, I bought a small walking pad and started walking right inside my home each evening. I didn’t begin with five miles — I started with 30 minutes and gradually built up from there. Baby steps toward the life I desired, instead of overwhelming resolutions that often fade by February.

And one of the most meaningful changes I made was stepping away from social media for an entire year. I only returned to share my blog posts. I wanted to be more present in my real life — engaged with my family, my faith, and the quiet moments that matter most.

I don’t know what your New Year’s desires may be, but whatever they are, start small. Make resolutions that are realistic and rooted in intention. One small step at a time, you’ll look back and say, “I did it.”

🌿 Mama Wisdom Reflection

True change doesn’t come from grand resolutions — it grows from quiet consistency, guided by faith. Take one small step today, and trust that God will meet you in the movement.

All the Gifts Are Open… So Why Do I Feel Like This?

After Christmas, when my kids were younger and all the presents had been opened, I would feel an unexpected heaviness settle into my soul. The excitement was over, the wrapping paper cleared away, and instead of relief, I felt a quiet emotional letdown. I never mentioned it to anyone. I just assumed it was something I needed to push through.

But year after year — even as my kids got older — that same feeling showed up once the holidays were over. I remember wondering, What in the world is wrong with me?

Later, I learned there was actually a name for it: “post-holiday blues”, sometimes called “holiday letdown.” And simply knowing I wasn’t alone changed everything.

Why This Happens

One reason the after-Christmas letdown can feel so heavy is because several things tend to hit all at once. After weeks of anticipation, traditions, and constant activity, your emotions can feel scattered when everything suddenly stops. Life snaps back to schedules, routines, and responsibilities almost overnight.

Maybe during the holidays you were out at parties, meeting up with friends, and surrounded by noise and connection. Then suddenly, your social calendar goes silent. Add to that the credit card bills quietly creeping into your inbox, reminding you just how much you spent trying to make everything magical.

Before I go any further, I want to say this: I’m not sharing these thoughts casually. I’ve spent extensive time in counseling myself, worked at a mental health practice for three years, and I also have the privilege of having a daughter who is a licensed mental health therapist. Through all of that, I’ve picked up a few things for my own mental health toolbox.

One of the things I’ve learned about along the way is something called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) — a form of depression that’s tied to changes in seasons, especially during the darker winter months. For some people, the post-holiday slump isn’t just emotional exhaustion; it’s also biological. And knowing that matters, because it reminds us this isn’t a personal failure — it’s something many people quietly experience.

One last piece that doesn’t get talked about enough is expectation versus reality. Sometimes Christmas doesn’t turn out the way we hoped. Unmet expectations, strained relationships, or moments that didn’t feel as joyful as we imagined can leave a lingering disappointment long after the decorations come down.

Symptoms I Experienced (Maybe You Can Relate)

Here are some of the things I used to experience — maybe you’ll recognize a few:

• Feeling down or sad

• Lack of motivation

• Irritability (kudos to those around me who survived it)

• Feeling emotionally drained

• Trouble focusing on tasks that need to be done

• An overwhelming sense of “What now?”

Like you, I wondered if something was wrong with me. The short answer is no — in my very non-professional opinion. It’s like hyping yourself up on 20 cups of caffeine and then crashing hard when the high wears off. Your body and emotions are simply coming down from a season of intensity.

What Helped Me Cope

Some of the simple things I learned to do to cope with the holiday blues include:

• Keeping the Christmas lights up a little longer

• Working on a vision board or planning something to look forward to

• Opening the curtains and letting natural light fill the room

• Taking calming walks or doing gentle workouts

• And most importantly, not being ashamed to call it what it is —
  “The Holiday Blues.”

Naming it helped remove the guilt and the confusion.

I do recommend that if your sadness lasts more than a few weeks, worsens, or starts interfering with your daily life, it’s worth checking in with a healthcare provider or counselor. And yes — y’all know I’m going to recommend my daughter! Why? Full disclosure. Cos’ I’m biased. Shout-out to Candice 🤍

Mama Wisdom Reflection

So baby, if you’re feeling off, you’re not broken or ungrateful. December is an emotional sprint fueled by noise, sugar, and high expectations. When it ends, the crash is real.

The gifts are opened, the decorations come down, and life suddenly expects you to function like nothing happened. That “now what?” feeling doesn’t mean you missed the magic — it just means you’re human.

So leave the lights up a little longer, move slower if you need to, and give yourself some grace.

January doesn’t need your best — it just needs you upright and caffeinated.

If this resonated with you, take a moment to pause and breathe. Share this with a friend who might be feeling the same quiet heaviness, or leave a comment on Instagram or Facebook and let me know — you’re not alone in this season. Have you ever felt the holiday letdown once the celebrations were over?

Baby Girl, We Might Need to Re-Read the Red Letters

We might need to re-read the red letters.
Not because Jesus has changed—but because somewhere along the way, we started paying more attention to people than to Him.

In my formative years, I must confess, I had a love–hate relationship with the church. In my family, not going to church—during the week and on Sundays—was not an option. I can’t recall if giving our lives to Christ was ever part of the criteria, but I do know this: our physical bodies had to be planted on those pews whenever the doors were open.

I suppose the hope was that if we sat there long enough, we’d catch a clue about Jesus just by being there.

But I was—and still am—an avid reader. And I genuinely loved the stories of the Bible. So I spent countless hours reading the Scriptures for myself- so much so that my siblings jokingly called me “holy roller.” And wouldn’t you know it—the more I read, the more those words began to change how I thought, how I saw people, and how I understood faith.

That’s when I started noticing something.

What I was reading in the red letters—and what I was watching in real life—didn’t always line up.

What I read spoke of humility, mercy, forgiveness, and love. What I often observed was impatience, division, and a quiet resentment that lingered in the pews. And asking questions wasn’t really an option. Curiosity was corrected. I learned quickly that questions were met with rebuke, usually wrapped in the phrase, “Stay in your place.”

So I stayed quiet—but I didn’t stop reading.

And that may have been the grace of it all. Because even when people shut down the conversation, the Scriptures kept speaking. They continued to shape me, challenge me, and quietly plant the understanding that faith was meant to be lived—not just inherited or enforced.

Years later, I would understand this more clearly: many people have been deeply disillusioned by those who loudly proclaim they are Christians. I understand that too. Somewhere along the way, we stopped reading the words of Christ and started reading people instead.

That shift matters more than we realize.

I have met many people who flat-out refuse to attend church anymore. They are triggered by the seeming hypocrisy of church folk. I get it. I hear you. I won’t leave because people are still being transformed slowly, imperfectly, and sometimes painfully. I won’t leave because hearts are still under construction. Remember—we are all a work in progress.

But baby, let me tell you something—I will leave a church in a heartbeat if Scripture is being twisted.

Jesus was sent to forgive us of our very human sins—every one of them. But forgiveness was never the finish line; it was the doorway. We were meant to be transformed by His teachings—how He loved, how He corrected, how He served, and how He forgave, even when it cost Him everything.

“Be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.”- James 1:22

Somewhere along the road, we began measuring Christianity by behavior instead of by Christ.

People will disappoint you. Churches will disappoint you. Leaders will disappoint you. If your faith is anchored to people, it will always be fragile. People are flawed, inconsistent, and still very much under construction—myself included.

But Jesus remains unchanged.

I don’t care who acts a certain way or who fails to live up to the label they wear. My eyes are not on them. My eyes are on Jesus and His teachings—the red letters and the example that never wavers. He is not a distant historical figure to me. He is as real as the nose on my face—present in grief, steady in joy, faithful in the quiet moments when no one else is watching.

He is still worth following.

I know we all desire community—to feel connection, belonging, and relationship within the church. That’s natural. But community should never be the plumb line for why we attend a church.

When it becomes the main reason, that’s your flashing red light.

Stop
Pause.
Realign your thinking.

Instead, look first for this: Does the teaching line up with Scripture? Does it point you back to the words of Jesus, or does it bend to fit culture, comfort, or consensus?

Because when the foundation is right, everything else eventually falls into place. Genuine community. Meaningful relationships. Shared purpose. Those things grow best when truth is rooted deeply beneath them.

Scripture reminds us of the proper order:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.”
Acts 2:42

Notice the order. Teaching came first. Fellowship followed.

Some say, “Christians give Christ a bad name.” But the truth is, we don’t give Christ a bad name—we give ourselves a different one: hypocrite. We say one thing and then put on masks, acting like someone entirely different when it costs us nothing and no one is watching.

So many people long to hear the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” But that raises honest questions we don’t ask often enough. Were we good? Were we faithful—not just in name, but in practice? Were we faithful to His teachings, or merely familiar with them?

Did we allow His words to truly transform us, so much so that others could say, “We know they have been with Jesus”—not because of what we claimed, but because of how we loved, spoke, and lived?

I was taught that we are known by the company we keep. And yet somewhere along the way, we allowed the culture of this world to rub off on us more than the words of Christ. We absorbed opinions, outrage, and attitudes with ease, while leaving His teachings quoted—but not practiced.

There is a Scripture that warns us plainly: “Broad is the road that leads to destruction.” The broad road looks easier. It’s crowded. It’s popular. It requires very little resistance and even less courage.

The narrow road, on the other hand, is quieter. Fewer voices. Fewer affirmations. It doesn’t trend well, and it doesn’t blend in. Yet Jesus tells us plainly that this is the road that leads to life.

So many are encouraged to “get on board” with whatever the culture is promoting—to adjust, soften, reinterpret, and stay relevant. But following Jesus has never been about convenience or popularity. The narrow road was never meant to be easy; it was meant to be faithful.

The broad road asks only that we agree.
The narrow road asks that we surrender.

And surrender is costly.

We think that wearing crosses will be enough. But do we really have a right to wear a cross if we have not crucified our selfish desires—our pride, our need to be right, our comfort, our appetite for approval?

The cross was never meant to be an accessory.
It was always an invitation.

An invitation to die to self.
An invitation to be changed.
An invitation to follow Him all the way.

So maybe—every now and then—we all need to pause and re-read the red letters.

Not to see what everyone else is doing wrong, but to realign our own hearts. Not to measure people, churches, or movements—but to measure ourselves against the words of Jesus.

Because when things feel off, when faith feels heavy, and when disappointment creeps in, the problem is never Him.

It’s that we’ve been watching people too closely and listening to Jesus too little.

If you don’t mind a little advice from Mama Wisdom: When what you see doesn’t match what you’ve been taught, go back to the source. Sit with His words again. Let them correct you, soften you, and steady you.

The red letters still say what they’ve always said.
And they still lead where they’ve always led.

Back to Him.

The Wonder of Christmas

What comes to mind when you think of Christmas?

Anyone who is familiar with me eventually discovers that Christmas is my absolute favorite time of the year. Even my colleagues will tell you how much I love the joy of Christmas—putting up decorations, the spirit of giving, and most of all, the beauty of what Christmas represents to me as a believer in Christ.

Every now and then, I might cross paths with a “Scrooge spirit”—someone who dreads the hassle of gift-giving or decorating. But even that brings me joy, because somehow, the season of Christmas manages to squeeze generosity from the tightest of fists and soften the hardest of hearts.

Still, I know not everyone feels the same excitement. For some, this season may bring more reflection than celebration. Maybe it’s the first Christmas spent alone after a divorce or the loss of a partner. Maybe the kids are grown now, traveling with friends or beginning their own holiday traditions. If that’s you, remember—your Christmas doesn’t have to look like everyone else’s.

Perhaps this is the year to start something new, go to brunch with someone in a similar season, plan a small getaway, or attend a Christmas concert or church service that lifts your spirit. There’s no wrong way to celebrate.

Whether you’re surrounded by family in the hustle and bustle of shopping and cooking, or you’re enjoying the quiet beauty of a slower season, I hope you still find that same sense of awe, wonder, and peace that Christmas brings.

As I sit in the glow of my Christmas tree lights, I’m reminded that Christmas isn’t just about gifts under the tree or even the gatherings we share—it’s about the gift that was given to us over two thousand years ago, Jesus Christ. He is the reason for the hope we carry, the joy we feel, and the love we share.

So wherever this Christmas finds you—whether your home is filled with laughter or silent prayer—let your heart be filled with gratitude. Take time to pause, breathe in the peace of the season, and remember that even in life’s changing seasons, God’s love remains constant.

Mama Wisdom Reflection: May your heart be light, your home be warm, and your soul be reminded that the true wonder of Christmas lives within you.

When Identity Gets Amnesia (Stop Letting Familiar Voices Rename You)

My three daughters grew up with a dad who hammered one phrase into them like it was a family commandment: “Know whose you are.”

If they forget every other parental lecture, all three of them remember that one. It wasn’t about ownership—it was about identity. Who you belong to. What you represent. How you carry yourself when we’re not standing right there watching.

That phrase came rushing back to me this week when I remembered something that happened years ago with my oldest daughter, Winter—our social butterfly, opinionated extrovert, and unofficial playground ambassador—was in the fourth grade.

At the time, I was pregnant with my youngest and supposed to be on limited movement. The elementary school was thankfully just around the corner, so I could drop the girls off and be back on bed rest in a matter of minutes. Or so I thought. No sooner had I gotten settled under the covers than the phone rang.

The school.

Of course.

It was the principal, and I instantly sat straight up in bed like I had been called into the office. She explained that Winter was currently sitting in her office due to an “incident” on the playground involving a group of kids. I remember thinking, how could she have gotten into trouble that fast? They’d barely made it through the front doors.

As the principal continued, she shared that when she tried to explain to Winter that her parents would not approve of that kind of behavior, Winter didn’t exactly receive the correction with humility and reflection.

Instead, she talked back. Well… actually the word the principal used was “belligerent.”

Without missing a beat, I sighed and said ,“Please forgive her. She forgot whose child she is.”

After my morning devotion time and then on my drive to work, that statement made many years ago replayed in my mind. And it struck me how often that’s true—not just for fourth graders on a playground, but for grown adults navigating real life.

As I reflected, it came to me that usually there are three groups that try to get us to question the reality of whose we are.

The first is the enemy of our souls. Satan.

He’s been running the same strategy since the beginning. He even tried it on Jesus. In the middle of a forty-day fast—when Jesus was physically exhausted and humanly vulnerable—the enemy said, “IF you really are the Son of God, jump off this mountain.”

If.

As if Jesus needed to prove anything.

As if risking His life would somehow validate His identity.

You want Me to potentially cause grave injury to Myself just to prove who I already know I am? Absolutely not. Get away from Me.

That’s how the enemy works. He doesn’t usually deny our identity outright—he just places a question mark where God already put a period. He whispers “if” when God has already said you are.

And when we forget whose we are, we start entertaining dares we were never meant to accept and proving things that never needed proof.

The second group is our family.

And that one hurts a little more.

Even though we may share the same parents and bloodline, sometimes the very people who should be most secure in our identity are the ones who question it. They question our worth, our calling, and our obedience—right where there should be no doubt.

Jesus experienced this too. Scripture tells us that even His own siblings thought He was out of His mind. They tried to restrain Him from doing His Kingdom mission and questioned by whose authority He was doing those things.

The same thing happens to many of us. Often, we become the outcasts of the family—not because we’ve done something wrong, but because obedience makes people uncomfortable. Instead of questioning themselves, they try to make you question who you are.

It shows up in sideways comments, awkward silence, or “loving concern” that feels more like doubt than support.

Sharing DNA doesn’t always mean sharing discernment. And sometimes the hardest place to remember whose you are is right in the middle of your own family.

The third group is associates, neighbors, religious people, and peers.

These are the people who know just enough about us to feel qualified to limit us.

They remember where we came from. They saw our humble beginnings. They know our background- they assume they know our limit - and in doing so they miss our calling.

Jesus encountered this too. People said, “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son?”

They underestimated Him because they were familiar with His story but blind to His identity. They mistook humility for limitation and ordinary beginnings for a lack of divine assignment.

There’s an old saying: “Familiarity breeds contempt.”

The danger wasn’t simply that they dismissed Him—the danger was that their familiarity dulled their spiritual senses, causing them to fail to recognize the Son of God standing right in front of them.

And the same thing happens to us.

People will try to reduce us to who we were instead of recognizing who God says we are. They’ll measure us by our past, our last name, or our perceived “type,” and completely miss the calling on our lives.

But knowing a little about someone’s background does not give you authority over their identity.

Mama Wisdom Reflection: Here’s the full-circle truth I came back to this week:

When Winter forgot whose child she was, it didn’t change whose child she actually was. It just meant she needed a reminder.

The same is true for us.

When the enemy whispers “if,” when family questions your calling, and familiarity tries to shrink you—pause and remember whose you are.

Because you don’t need to prove it.

You don’t need to perform for it.

You don’t need to jump off any mountains to validate it.

Sometimes the most powerful thing you can say—whether you’re in a principal’s office or navigating adulthood—is:

“Please forgive me… I had a moment. I forgot whose child I am.”

And then you straighten your crown, adjust your posture, and carry on—

identity intact, authority restored, and no playground drama required.

Hope In This Raggedy World? Chile…Be Serious.

I was scrolling the other day-minding my business-when I came across a video of a podcaster stopping random folks on the street asking, “Do you believe in Jesus?” Baby…I lost count of how many people said, “no” and kept on walking like he was trying to get them to sign up for satellite TV.

And I’m not gonna lie- it made me sad. Not judgmental. Not holier-than-thou. Just sad.

Because if you’re putting your hope in this world? Whew. Chile… you are signing yourself up for disappointment on backorder. This world is shaky. People flaky. Systems failing. Morals optional. And if you haven’t noticed, common sense is running out like it’s on clearance.

Some people are putting all their trust in job titles that can evaporate overnight, relationships and situationships built on “vibes”, money that disappears faster than your paycheck hits your account, and political leaders who change their minds more than they change their socks.

And let me just go ahead and say this, some folks are literally waiting on their favorite politician or political group to turn this world right-side up. Baby…your hope is leaning on the wrong wall. I promise you this: No politician can save your soul. No party can fix the human heart. And Congress can barely agree on what time to meet-let alone the condition of the human spirit.

This is exactly why I Corinthians 15:19 hits like a truth bomb: “If our hope in Christ is good for this life only and no more, then we deserve more pity than anyone else in all the world.” In other words-If all we’re living for is what’s happening down here.. then Lord help us, because we’re missing the whole point.

Hope in Christ isn’t just for surviving this world. It’s for rising above it. It’s for eternity. It’s for the bigger picture we can’t even fully see yet.

That’s what made that video sting. Not that people said no-everybody has their own journey. But some of them really don’t know there’s a better anchor available. They’re out here trying to hold onto a world that can’t even hold itself together.

And listen believing in Jesus doesn’t make life perfect. But it does give your hope a home. A foundation. A direction. It makes your hope finally make sense.

So yes, it broke my heart a little. But it also reminded me:

Sometimes the only Bible someone will ever read ..is watching how YOU live, how YOU love, and how YOU walk through chaos without falling apart.

Mama Wisdom Reflection: Hope is not passive- it’s placed. And every day we decide where to put it. Some put it in people. Some put it in politics. Some put it in their paycheck. But only one place is strong enough to hold it.

May we keep choosing Jesus-the ONE who doesn’t change with trends, elections, opinions, or moods.

Now if you STILL trusting in this world, God bless you. Because this world will hype you up, switch up on you, cancel on you, and then pretend it never met you.

You’ll be sitting there clutching your chest like, “I know you lying…”

But Jesus? He’s the only one who won’t do you like that. No switching stories. No ghosting. No “per my last email” energy.

So yeah- put your hope wherever you want. But when life goes left and your world starts spinning, don’t call me about, “Girl… you will NOT believe what happened.”

Because I’m gonna smile, hand you a snack, pat your back, and say, “Baby.. I TOLD you.”

With love.

God’s love.

But still---

I told you.

Obedience Would’ve Saved the Shoes

Last year, my two youngest daughters and I—along with my 70-year-old friend who still plays pickleball every day and apparently channeled her 25-year-old self—decided to go on a cruise. One of our excursions took us to the beautiful Cayman Islands.

Up until that point, my adventurous middle daughter, Candice—who, mind you, is the therapist in our family—had been doing exceptionally well. She followed my itinerary. She listened. She stayed where she was supposed to stay.

Which should have been my first warning.

Because even therapists need therapy.

We disembarked the ferry, boarded the tour bus, and enjoyed the sights. When the tour guide announced we could stop and look around, Candice was one of the first ones off the bus, with my pickleball-playing friend hustling behind her like they were chasing a blessing.

Me and my youngest daughter, Faith, stayed practical. We grabbed a few souvenirs, admired the view, and headed back to the bus—because the driver was very clear: do not get left.

We were seated and waiting when our phones rang.

Candice.

“Mom… can you come help me?”

Help you… how?

Instead of staying on the bridge overlooking the water—where safety, obedience, and good sense lived—Candice and my friend decided to venture down below the bridge, across a bed of sharp, uneven rocks, all just to take a few photos from a particular angle.

And there she was.

Foot wedged between rocks.
Flip-flops torn beyond repair.
Confidence still intact.

Meanwhile, Faith sat firmly on the bus and announced to everyone within earshot,

“No, Mom. I’m not getting off this bus. She always gets into these predicaments. Absolutely not.”

And honestly? She was not wrong.

Other passengers tried to persuade her.
Faith stayed put.
Boundaries strong.

So I did what mamas do—I got off the bus. When I reached the bottom of the hill, a kind fisherman was already assisting. Not only did he help them up, but he MacGyvered Candice’s flip-flop like it was brand new.

I stood there watching my child—who counsels people for a living—get rescued in flip-flops.

To this day, I still don’t know what convinced Candice and my friend that risking bodily harm for a few pictures on a bed of rocks was a good idea. I mean… slipping, sliding, and emergency footwear surgery—for an angle.

And that’s the warning.

Because sometimes we put ourselves in unnecessary danger trying to capture something that looks good, instead of staying where God already told us it was good. We risk peace, safety, and wisdom chasing moments that won’t even matter next week.

And what possessed her to think she was prepared to traverse sharp rocks in flip-flops?

The confidence was impressive.
The preparation was nonexistent.

But if we’re honest, we do the same thing.

Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking we’re more prepared for life than we actually are. We confuse confidence with readiness, passion with wisdom. We dress for the view instead of the terrain.

We step into rocky seasons wearing spiritual flip-flops—
No prayer.
No patience.
No guardrails.

Just vibes and optimism.

The apostle Paul said it best in Romans 7:15:

“For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”

We hear God say, “Stay on the bridge.”
And we respond, “I’ll just take a quick look.”

Now let me be clear—God is not trying to suck the fun out of our lives.

He’s not anti-joy.
He’s not anti-adventure.

But some things are simply not expedient for our safety.

As 1 Corinthians 10:23 reminds us:

“‘I have the right to do anything,’ you say—but not everything is beneficial.”

God’s boundaries aren’t punishment; they’re protection. He sees the loose rocks we don’t. He knows flip-flops won’t hold up where we’re headed. And He understands the fall before we ever take the step.

And thank God—just like that day in the Cayman Islands—He often sends help.
Grace.
Mercy.
A fisherman.

Not because we listened the first time…
But because He loves us anyway.

Mama Wisdom:
Obedience doesn’t cancel joy—it preserves it.
Confidence without preparation is a setup.
And obedience would have saved the shoes—without them needing emergency surgery. 👟🙏

Kindness Never Goes Out of Style — Check the Tag

Now listen…
I was literally sitting at my desk cleaning up this blog on kindness — minding my own business, listening to my holiday music, choosing peace — when the phone rang and this lady called in.

I slipped into my usual calm, professional intro, and baby… she promptly and RUDELY cut me off.
Didn’t even let me finish my “How may I help—”
Nope.
She came in hot like someone had unplugged her patience overnight.

So I tried to gently de-escalate, letting her know I understood she was frustrated.
But whew… that only made her madder than a wet hen with curlers in.

Then she told me her age like she was revealing a classified document.
So I said—very respectfully, with good home training—
“Well, bless you!”

And she snapped back with:
“Don’t you DARE say that to me!”

Ma’am.
MA’AM.

At that point I’m sure even the angels were looking at each other like, “Lord… should we intervene?”

But no. That was my test for the day.
My kindness meter was shaking, rattling, trying to leap off the wall like, “Girl, we don’t get paid enough for this.”

And yet… grace won.
Again.
Because LIFE clearly decided to hand-deliver content for this blog.

Yet here’s another truth…

Ladies — especially my beautifully seasoned queens in your 60s, 70s, 80s — your age does NOT give you a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card when you’ve been unkind to someone.

Wisdom should sweeten you, not sharpen you.

Experience should soften your tone, not turn it into a weapon.

Respect is earned, not automatically issued like a Social Security check.

Let me just go ahead and say it:
Whatever happened to kindness?

It used to be the first thing parents tried to instill in their kids — right after
“Don’t touch that,”
“Stop doing that,”
and
“Lord help me, why would you put that in your mouth?!”

Kindness was the standard. The expectation. The bare minimum.

Now?
We’re in an era where being mean is trending like it’s a new makeup launch. Folks acting ugly and calling it a personality trait. The world says “karma,” Scripture calls it reaping — either way, keep on living… whatever you put out there is coming back like a package you forgot you ordered.

And since my blog caters mainly to women (there are some men who sneak in here—hey y’all), I just have one question:
What is this fascination with being rude on purpose?

I mean, some women walk around with their faces scrunched up so tight you'd think they were trying to hold in a sneeze and a secret at the same time. Talking nasty to people like it’s cute. Honey… that is not a badge you want pinned to you.

And let’s be honest — in my opinion?
It ages you.

Some women are spending thousands on Botox, fillers, lifts, tucks, and all the “-plasties”… when they could’ve saved all that money by relaxing their face and being nice.
Smiling is free.
Kindness is free.
And shockingly — both do wonders for your appearance.

Now, I work in an industry where I talk to people all day, and most mornings I’m prepared for a little spice. But sometimes?
Whew.
The phone rings and the person on the other end is so rude it feels like they woke up from fighting with Satan all night . Meanwhile I’m sitting there thinking:
“Sweetie… it’s too early in the morning to be this mean. What’s wrong?”

But instead of matching their energy, I let them carry on—quietly twirling my braids, sipping my water, letting them deliver their keynote speech on misery. Eventually, they realize I haven’t said a word.

Then I ease in gently with:
“Now… how can I assist you? I didn’t want to interrupt.”

That right there?
Throws them completely off their kilter.
Suddenly they’re sputtering, softening their tone, recalibrating their whole spirit like I didn’t just hear the opening scene of their villain origin story.

But for others?
Oh, it riles them up even more.
At that point you just press that transfer button and whisper,
“Lord… strengthen whoever picks this call up next.”

And while the line is ringing, I’m praying:
“Father, please let them answer… because if this woman calls back in here again, I’m clocking out and starting my lunch break at 9:07 AM.”

But this is what I’ve learned:
We stay gracious.
We stay classy.
We keep our tiaras from slipping.

Because kindness?
It never goes out of style.
It’s evergreen. Classic. Couture for the soul.

Scripture Reflection — Proverbs 31:26

“She opens her mouth with wisdom,
and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.”

Mama Wisdom Reflection: A virtuous woman doesn’t just dress well — she speaks well.
Her words carry wisdom, softness, and grace.
She knows her strength isn’t in loudness or harshness, but in the quiet confidence of being kind in a world that celebrates mean.

Ladies, let kindness be your signature fragrance.
The one that lingers long after you’ve left the room.

“When God Says ‘Trust Me,’ Honey, He Ain’t Saying Yes.”

I thought that title would capture your attention!
But stay with me, because it’s not as rebellious as it sounds.

I’ve lived enough life and walked with God long enough to understand something that took me years to admit out loud:
When God whispers, “Trust Me,” the answer… is usually a “no.”

Now hold on—don’t grab your prayer cloth or start flinging holy oil at my blog on your screen just yet. Bear with me a few minutes to let me explain.

There was a scripture I loved when I was growing into my relationship with the Lord:
“All of God’s promises are yes and amen.”

In my early days I interpreted that to mean, “If I want it, God must be saying yes, because, well… scripture.”
So imagine my shock when I later learned that this did not mean God was obligated to hand me whatever shiny thing my heart desired.

I know, sweetie—your feelings are hurt. You wanted me to tell you this isn’t true.
But listen, I’m not saying God doesn’t answer prayers.
I am saying He isn’t a genie in the sky waiting for you to shout some magic church phrases so He can grant your every desire.

God is far more invested in answering prayers that line up with His will, your growth, and His Kingdom’s purpose—not just our cravings.

And am I telling you that you shouldn’t pray?
Absolutely not!

But I am telling you to shift how you pray.
Instead of, “Lord, give me what I want,” try:

“Lord, this is what’s happening down here in my world—as You can clearly see.
Can You give me direction on how I should move concerning this or that?”

That kind of prayer keeps your heart open, not entitled.
It invites God to lead rather than perform.
And it positions you to receive something better than what you were begging for.

Let me share a personal story, because my life has been one long curriculum in the School of “Trust Me.”

Most people know that my former spouse left me out of the blue.
I came home and found a yellow sticky note with the words:
“I’m gone. Get a job.”

Well—what does any red-blooded Christian woman do at a time like that?
I grabbed the horns of my bedpost and begged God to make it un-true, to save my marriage, to turn it all around.

And right in the middle of my boo-hooing, I felt something deep in my spirit.
Not thunder. Not lightning.
Just a firm whisper: “Trust Me.”

And in that moment, I knew exactly what that meant.
God was not going to answer that petition.
The answer was no.

Not because He wanted to break me, but because He wanted to build me.

And let me tell you something I never thought I’d say:
I’ve learned to love God’s “no.”

When I look back over the years—every tear, every closed door, every detour—
His no was better than any yes I ever could have received.
Every “no” protected me from something I didn’t see, pushed me into growth I didn’t want, and prepared me for blessings I couldn’t imagine.

God’s “no” isn’t rejection.
It’s redirection.
It’s refinement.
It’s Him saying,
“Daughter, I know the way. Trust Me—even when it doesn’t feel like a blessing yet.”

Mama Wisdom Reflection:

Maybe you’re standing in your own moment right now—hands gripping the bedpost of life, heart cracked wide open, asking God to fix what feels unfixable.
If that’s you, hear this from someone who has lived through the “no’s” and survived the shaking:

God’s “no” is not the end of your story.
It’s the beginning of a better chapter.

Sometimes the greatest act of faith isn’t shouting, “Yes, Lord!”
It’s whispering, “Okay… I trust You,” even when the answer isn’t what you prayed for.

So breathe.
Release your timetable, your expectations, your fears.
And let God lead you into a future where His real yes has already been set in motion.

Scripture to Hold Close

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart;
and lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
and He shall direct your paths.” — Proverbs 3:5–6

Let this be the truth you stand on when God says, “Trust Me.”
Because where He is leading is always better than where you thought you were going.

“When Life Says ‘Wait, but I Want to Say ‘Hurry Up’”

One of the scariest experiences I’ve ever walked through happened right after a routine mammogram. The technician paused, stared at the screen a little longer than my nerves preferred, and gently said she saw something “unusual.” Now, let me tell you — when a medical professional uses that word, your whole soul sits up straight.

Before I could even gather my thoughts, they were scheduling me for a biopsy.
The fear that washed over me… whew. My mind turned into a full Olympic event: the 100-meter dash of “what ifs.”
What if it’s serious? What if everything changes?
Fear has a way of writing a dramatic script before God even hands you the first page.

The morning of the biopsy, I did what I always do when I’m two seconds from spiraling — I prayed. I needed God to steady me, because my nerves were not cooperating. But honestly? The biopsy wasn’t the hardest part. It was the waiting.

And isn’t that always the real test?

How do you wait?
What is your attitude in the in-between?

Not sure? Here’s a quick diagnostic: pay attention the next time you’re in a grocery store line behind someone at the counter digging through their purse trying to find their debit card. Or when you're at the DMV and the line has only moved one person in the last fourteen minutes. Do you sigh loud enough for the angels to hear? Get irritable? Roll your eyes like you're auditioning for a drama series?
Those little moments reveal big truths about us.

And then — God being God — He decided to reinforce the lesson at the hair salon. There I was, sitting in the braider’s chair, and let me confess: I absolutely wanted those braids done in 15 minutes. But baby, that’s not how the anointing works.

I can shift, twist, breathe loud, or try to send telepathic messages to her fingers… it’s not changing a thing. The process moves at her pace, not mine. If I want beautiful results, I have to trust her hands, lean into her method, and let the process unfold.

And that’s exactly how waiting with God works.
We can’t rush what He’s shaping.
We can’t push Him onto our timeline.
We can’t fast-forward the part that makes us uncomfortable.

We just have to sit still, breathe, and trust that His pace — even when slower than we like — is purposeful.

Waiting exposes our character… but it also strengthens our faith, if we let it.

“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage.” —Psalm 27:14

Mama Wisdom Reflection: If life has taught me anything, it’s this: waiting will show you exactly who you are. Not the Instagram-friendly version, not the smiling church version — the real, unfiltered, “Lord help me before I say something” version.

But here’s the blessing, waiting is where God does His best work.
It’s where He stretches your trust, steadies your heart, and reminds you that He doesn’t need your control — just your cooperation.

So the next time you’re restless in a line, frustrated in traffic, or sitting in your own “braider’s chair” season, check your heart. Waiting isn’t always punishment… often, it’s preparation.

“Crowds? Traffic? Elbows? Absolutely Not, Sweetheart.”

As we enter the Christmas season, like many of you, I’ve already started thinking about who’s getting what. Now let me be clear: Black Friday was a firm no for me. I wasn't about to spend my day bumping, shoving, sidestepping runaway shopping carts, and gritting my teeth hoping I could find that one item one of my grannies wanted. No ma’am, no sir.

Instead, I took the only reasonable route: straight to my recliner and into Amazon Heaven, where if you can think of it, Amazon has it — and Prime will deliver it faster than Santa Claus on an energy drink.

But even with the convenience, one thing I will not be doing this year is purchasing so much that I overwhelm myself — and everyone around me. I gave up that habit long ago. You know the one: wrapping paper flying everywhere, kids tearing gifts open so fast that we spend the next twenty minutes digging through paper piles trying to figure out who got what. Nope. I’ve graduated from that season.

But as I clicked “add to cart,” I made myself a promise: I will not overspend, and I will not be overwhelmed.

Christmas is meant to be joyful, but going into debt to prove something to people who love you anyway? That’s not joy — that’s stress wearing a Santa hat.

And as I drove past those packed parking lots this week, cars lined up from here to next week, it reminded me again:
I am not stepping one foot into those stores. The way my peace is set up? It won’t allow it.

But let me speak to something deeper… as I’ve gotten older, I understand my parents more. One memory I have is of my mama out feverishly shopping on Christmas Eve, because she and Daddy didn’t get paid until that day. And honey, there were a lot of us “Jones’s.”

I cannot imagine the stress she must’ve felt. The wondering: Would the money stretch? Could she buy each of us at least one toy? Would there still be enough left for food on the table?

Let me tell you, exhale…I recognize that was love. Stressful, sacrificial, exhausted love. And it taught me something: Christmas shouldn’t be about breaking yourself to look generous. It should be about giving from a place of peace, not pressure.

I know many people this year are wondering whether they can get their loved ones anything at all. Budgets are tight, inflation is real, and life has been life-ing in every direction. Maybe your stress level is already swinging from the rafters.

So hear me when I say this with all sincerity:
It’s not about how many gifts you give — it’s about the love behind what you give.

A thoughtful gift, even a small one, carries more warmth and beauty than a mountain of presents bought out of pressure or comparison. Christmas was never designed to drain your bank account; it was meant to fill your heart.

Let this be the year we choose purposeful, meaningful giving, not stressful, exhausting spending. I would rather give one intentional gift than five random ones purchased because I felt obligated or because the pile “didn’t look big enough.”

Give from your heart — not from your credit limit.

Let love be the biggest thing you wrap this year.

This season, remember that the very first Christmas gift wasn’t wrapped in shiny paper — it was wrapped in swaddling clothes. It wasn’t expensive — but it was priceless. It wasn’t flashy — but it changed the world. Sometimes the most meaningful gifts come in the simplest forms.

✨ Scripture: Proverbs 15:16 — “Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble with it.” A holy reminder that peace is a gift too.

✨ Mama-Wisdom Reflection:

Baby, don’t lose your mind trying to impress people who already love you. Give what you can, do what you can, and keep your joy intact. Christmas gifts come and go, but your peace? That’s a keeper.

A Heart of Thanks

Thanksgiving is a time for many families, like mine, to slow down and spend quality time with loved ones. If you’ve entered a season of life like me — where your children are now adults — they may have taken over most of the main courses, leaving you with that one dish the whole family absolutely cannot do without.

Now, as the matriarch of my family, I travel to my oldest daughter’s house with my famous “dressing,” all wrapped in tin foil. Once I arrive, I know I’ll get to sit and visit with my grannies, but inevitably I’ll be bombarded with, “Mom, taste this!” or “Do I need to add anything?” And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The word Thanksgiving itself is a beautiful combination of thanks and giving — a subtle reminder that we should always be grateful and have a heart to give. As we celebrate this day, I can’t help but be thankful for my family, both near and far, who are taking time to simply celebrate being thankful.

Thankful for what, you may ask? We’re living in challenging times. Many federal workers have lost their jobs. Some families stand in food lines weekly to feed their children. Older adults are struggling, and healthcare costs continue to rise. We even recently heard the heartbreaking news of a neighbor who took their own life.

So, if you are not in any of these categories, take a moment to truly pause and give thanks. Thank God for breath in your body, food on your table, a roof over your head, and people in your life who care about you. Gratitude doesn’t have to come from grand gestures or perfect circumstances — it grows quietly in the middle of ordinary blessings.

As I sit at my daughter’s table, surrounded by laughter, the smells of sweet potato pie and roasted turkey, I’m reminded that Thanksgiving isn’t just a holiday; it’s a posture of the heart. It’s about slowing down long enough to appreciate how far you’ve come and how faithful God has been through every season.

Be thankful. Our family likes to take turns before praying over our meal to share one thing we’re grateful for. I don’t know what your family traditions include — maybe it’s gathering to watch football, playing board games, or heading to the movies after dinner — but whatever it is, be thankful that you have loved ones to share it with.

This year, consider turning your gratitude into action. Maybe start a new family tradition of giving — whether it’s donating to your local food bank, volunteering, or supporting a church food drive. My middle daughter recently shared that she gave meal cards through our church that will help feed ten families this Thanksgiving. That’s the kind of thanks and giving that truly honors the spirit of the day.

So wherever this Thanksgiving finds you — in a bustling kitchen, a quiet home, or even a season rebuilding — remember that gratitude and grace go hand in hand. Be thankful not just for what you have, but for who you’re becoming through it all.

Mama Wisdom Reflection:

Gratitude turns what we have into enough. May your heart stay soft, your hands stay open, and your spirit stay thankful. 🍁

“Rejection? Baby, That was Just My Launch Button.”

Rejection. Whew. I get it. If you’ve lived long enough to buy your own toothpaste, you’ve probably met. It doesn’t tap you gently on the shoulder -no ma’am. It shows up like a fire-breathing dragon, inhaling your confidence and exhaling confusion. It can make even the strongest woman whisper to herself, “Why wasn’t I good enough?” What’s wrong with me?”

Let me tell you something as gently as I can: Nothing. Absolutely Nothing.

But I know that feeling - that sting so sharp you swear it took your breath for a second.

But before you let that question take root, let me show you a different picture - of a bow and arrow. When a bow is pulled back, it can’t be pulled only an inch. A weak pull won’t send the arrow anywhere. But the stronger the pullback - the tension, the resistance- the farther the arrow is destined to fly.

Now here’s the part we often miss:

The person who rejected you was simply the bow. Sometimes the person who rejected you didn’t know they were giving you the momentum to launch far beyond them. They thought you weren’t worthy. They didn’t see your potential. They misjudged your value. Look how much strength you’ve gathered from what was meant to break you

And since we’re being real, let me add something personal: When my former spouse said he didn’t want our marriage anymore -did it take me by surprise? Absolutely. But did it make me question my worth? Not for a moment. I never lost an ounce of sleep wondering if I had been a good wife or homemaker. I knew who I was. I had peace about that part - peace with a capital P. What I DID recognize was what he lost in leaving: the gift God placed in his path, the favor assigned to his life, the blessing he didn’t even know how to handle. And the last time I saw him?

Wellll…..

I gently - and I do mean gently- pushed him out the door toward my beautifully tended flowerbed.

Not in anger, but in a very “This meeting is adjourned” sort of way. My only concern was whether he’d crush my begonias as he stumbled out the door - because honestly, the flowers had shown more loyalty, consistency, and emotional maturity than he had in a long while. And there’s no use holding onto someone who’s already halfway out the door. Sometimes God removes people because we won’t. While he walked - I bent over to water my flowers. They appreciated the nourishment.

We’ve all done it- measured ourselves through someone else’s blurry lens. But you are not seen clearly through the eyes of anyone who doesn’t know your value. Stop gauging yourself by the person who walked away, the boss who passed you over, the friend you believed in who turned out to be less loyal than their Instagram posts, or the church that didn’t live up to its own social media personality. Here’s the thing: Rejection is not proof you’re unworthy. It’s often evidence you’re being redirected.

Instead, look at yourself through the eyes of the One who created you. The One who knew you before you were formed, the One who designed your purpose and potential before anybody else had an opinion. When my car needs care, I take it back to the dealership - not the nearest mechanic with a coupon. They didn’t build it. They don’t know it. They can guess - but the manufacturer knows every detail. Same with you, take yourself back to the One who knows you best.

Sometimes God allows a door to shut because what’s behind it would have destroyed you. Sometimes He lets someone walk away because their hands were too small to carry what He’s building in you. Sometimes He lets you feel the pullback because the launch requires distance.

Scripture to Stand On: “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” Psalm 118:22

Sometimes the very thing dismissed by others becomes the foundation of something greater.

Mama Wisdom Reflection: “Listen baby, if someone rejects you, let ‘em. Some folks don’t deserve VIP seating in your life when they can’t even handle general admission.

An Unwelcome Welcome Surprise

Life has a way of rewriting our stories without asking permission.

For me, that rewrite came in the form of a divorce- something I never planned, never wanted, and never thought I’d experience. At the time, it felt like a breaking. If you’d told me 18 years ago that I’d look back on my divorce with gratitude, I probably would have laughed - or cried. Maybe both. Back then it felt like an ending. A door slamming shut on the life I thought I was supposed to have. But now at 64 years old, I see it differently. My divorce was an unwelcome welcome surprise, something I never wanted, but something that ultimately propelled me forward into a new and fuller version of myself.

The Shock of Change: When life as you know it falls apart , there’s a kind of silence that follows. You wake up and everything feels unfamiliar. The routines, the rhythms, the future you imagined - all of it shifts. At first I grieved. I grieved the dream more than the reality. The idea of what “should have been.” But slowly, God began to show me that even unwanted change can hold hidden blessings.

It wasn’t easy - it was lonely, humbling, and, at times, terrifying. But in that quiet space, I discovered something I’d lost in all the noise: myself. When you walk with God, no chapter is wasted. Every detour can become destiny, and every heartbreak can grow new strength.

The Grace in the Unexpected: When I look back I don’t see failure anymore. I see growth, and a woman who learned that endings can be beginnings in disguise. So if you’re standing in the middle of your own unwelcome surprise, hold on. You may not see it yet, but God can use even this to propel you forward - to peace, purpose, and a life that’s beautifully your own. Through my divorce I learned how to stand on my own two feet - emotionally, spiritually, and even financially. I learned how to trust God, not just in theory, but in the everyday details. And one day, I stopped asking “why” and started saying “thank You.” Not because it all made sense, but because I could finally see that the very thing that was meant to break me also built me.

My divorce was never part of my plan, but it was a part of God’s. And, in His hands, an unwelcome surprise became a divine invitation- to heal, to grow, and to live with purpose and peace. So if you’re standing in the middle of something painful, something you never asked for - take heart. You don’t have to understand it yet. Just trust that one day, you’ll look back and see what I see:

That your unwelcome surprise was actually a welcome turning point- the moment everything started moving forward.

Founder & Voice of Mama Wisdom

The Day I Learned to Forgive

The Shock That Changed Everything: For 27 years, I was a pastors’s wife - devoted to ministry, family, and faith. At 47, I was served with divorce papers. I still remember standing there at the post office signing for that certified mail, papers in hand, feeling like my world had cracked open. I had spent my adult life helping others heal, never imagining I’d need the same kind of grace for myself.

Facing the Pain: In those first months, I wrestled with anger, shame, and disbelief. I asked God questions that had no easy answers. How could a marriage I believed was built on faith unravel? Why me? I thought forgiving him would mean saying what he did was okay- but forgiveness isn’t permission. It’s release.

The Turning Point: Forgiveness began the moment I realized it wasn’t about my ex-husband. It was about my peace. Carrying the hurt kept me tied to a past God was trying to free me from. Slowly, I stopped replaying what was done and started praying for what could still be healed - in me.

Rebuilding the Woman I Was Meant To Be: At 54, I kept a promise I’d made long ago to my parents that because I had chosen ministry and marriage over finishing college, that one day I would get my degree in law. Walking across that stage, magna cum laude, I felt like I had closed one chapter and begun another. My parents weren’t there to see it, but my three adult daughters were, and that moment was for all of us. Again, receiving that degree wasn’t just about education; it was about redemption. It was me saying “I kept my word.” It was a reminder that it’s never too late to rise, rebuild, and finish what you started.

Living in Forgiveness: Forgiveness didn’t erase the pain. It just gave me the power to stop reliving it. I learned that peace is the proof of forgiveness. I’m not bitter. I’m better. I’m not broken, I’ve became whole. Healing didn’t come overnight. It came in the quiet mornings when I chose prayer over bitterness, in the moments I decided to see peace as progress, and in the realization that I could love my own company. Slowly, I began to see that healing isn’t about returning to who you were -it’s about becoming who you’re meant to be.

A Little Mama Wisdom: Forgiveness doesn’t excuse what happened - it releases you to live again. Let go, not because they deserve it, but because you do.

The Story Behind Mama Wisdom

Hey Friend, I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve always been considered a second “mama” to my daughter’s friends, and before I knew it that “honor” was also coming to me from women in my church and work circles. I’ve always enjoyed mentoring and having real talk with women who are just trying to figure out “life.” When I first dreamed of starting Mama Wisdom, I wanted to create a space where real life and real faith could meet. A place for women who are trying to balance it all - family, faith, work, wellness, and everything in between - but still crave peace, purpose, and a little laughter along the way.

Because let’s be honest - life isn’t always tidy. It’s full of joy and exhaustion, answered prayers and unanswered questions, holy moments and messy ones too. But even in the middle of it all, I’ve learned that God’s grace shows up - sometimes in the quiet, sometimes in the chaos, and sometimes through a little wit to keep us laughing when life feels too serious.

Mama Wisdom was born out of that space - where wisdom meets warmth, where we can talk about motherhood, and marriage one day, one day faith and fear the next, and always find encouragement in between.

Here you’ll find:

• Honest stories about life and family

• Reflections on faith and personal growth

• Simple wellness reminders that nourish your mind, body, and spirit

• Encouragement to help you keep going, even when life looks different than you planned

Maybe you are in a season of rebuilding, or just learning to see beauty again after loss - my hope is that when you read these words, you’ll feel seen, understood, and inspired to keep showing up - imperfectly, but faithfully. That you might learn that even after heartbreak, there’s hope, even in change, there’s grace, and sometimes a little wit can make the healing lighter.

So grab your coffee or tea, take a deep breath, and make yourself at home. You’re right where you need to be.

Founder & Voice of Mama Wisdom