This past year has been one of the most stretching and transformative seasons our family has ever experienced. We welcomed a second child, our precious Gavin, into our lives—a joyful miracle who brought with him a whole new set of challenges and blessings. Alongside this incredible gift, we continued navigating the sometimes turbulent waters of toddlerhood with Brayden. He was going through a phase filled with big emotions, testing boundaries, and asserting his will in ways that pushed us as parents to grow and adapt. Each day brought new surprises and sometimes frustration, as we sought to nurture him with love and patience.
Meanwhile, my husband Caleb made a significant change in his professional life. He left his familiar job and embraced a new opportunity that demanded not only learning new skills but also adjusting our family rhythms to accommodate his different schedule and responsibilities. It was a season filled with hope and promise but also uncertainty and transition.
Looking back, I can say all these things—the addition of a new baby, the toddler struggles, the career shift—were good and valuable in their own ways. Yet despite their goodness, there were many moments when life felt overwhelming. There were times when circumstances outside of our control seemed to pile up all at once, and I found myself wrestling with anxiety, exhaustion, and the weight of responsibility. It felt like I was holding together a thousand pieces at once, and sometimes I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep going without breaking.
About halfway through this journey, I stumbled upon a passage that became a lifeline for me: Matthew 6:25-27. As I read and reread those verses, I began to see worry in a new light—not just as an unpleasant feeling to be endured, but as something deeply opposed to the gospel message. Worry, I realized, is not only harmful to our peace of mind but fundamentally anti-gospel. It betrays a lack of faith in God’s provision and care.