I was listening to the pastor the other day and he talked about the story of Samson, and something stopped me in my tracks.

Before Samson became known for his strength, before the battles and the dramatic ending of his life—there was a quiet moment that happened first. The Angel of the Lord appeared… not to a king or a prophet, not even to Samson’s father.

He appeared to his mother.

A woman who had been barren.

A woman whose name we don’t even know.

And the angel gave her the promise of a child—and with it, very specific instructions on how to raise him. What to eat. What to avoid. What this child’s purpose would be.

Even when her husband, Manoah, asked God to send the angel again for clarity, the angel still directed the message to her.

That hit me in such a deep way. Because I believe God still does that today.

Speaking to mothers.

Entrusting us with holy instructions.

Preparing us to raise children who are part of something bigger than we can see.

I feel this truth in my own motherhood journey every single day.

As a mom, I’m constantly checking my emotions and reactions. I find myself asking, “What is the end goal of this moment? What kind of woman am I raising?”

Raising Luci has honestly been as much about my own healing as it has been about her growth.

And I’m not talking about giving her toys or picture-perfect memories—I’m talking about giving her something I didn’t have: a healed, present mom.

A childhood filled with innocence, wonder, and space to just be a kid.

That’s the work I’m doing every day—allowing God into the broken places of my heart so I can show up for her in a whole, intentional way.

God speaks to me in so many ways.

Worship music is huge in our home.

Our house always has a song playing.

And so often, He’ll place a specific lyric on my heart—and I’ll know that’s the prayer I need to lean into for the day.

He nudges my spirit with things I need to pray over, release, or ask Him about.

And sometimes, it’s not during quiet time with a Bible open—it’s while I’m doing dishes, thinking about our to-do list, or wondering how to bring joy into our home that day.

He meets me there, too.

All of these moments—big and small—are shaping me just as much as they’re shaping Luci.

And that’s the beauty of motherhood: God doesn’t just use us to raise our children.

He uses our children to grow and refine us.

As moms, we’re not just raising kids—we’re raising disciples.

We are the gatekeepers of our homes.

The protectors of our children’s hearts.

The ones who nurture, guide, and lay the foundation for faith.

Yes—fathers have a sacred and powerful role.

But moms?

We are the backbone.

The heartbeat of the family.

The ones in the trenches, doing the day-to-day shepherding.

Samson’s mother was given a divine blueprint. She didn’t know how his story would end, but she followed what God told her.

And while Samson’s life was messy and complicated, God used him to fulfill a powerful purpose: To begin delivering Israel from their enemies (Judges 13:5).

We don’t know the full story of who our kids will become either.

But we do know the God who does.

And He’s given us our blueprint—His Word, the Bible.

The things we do might seem ordinary… but they are anything but.

• That quiet worship song you play over breakfast? It sets the tone of your home.

• The gentle response in a hard moment? It teaches grace.

• The whispered prayer in the dark? It’s heard by the God who sees everything.

  
  

This is holy work.

Eternal work.

The kind of work that shapes hearts—and generations.

Working on ourselves—inviting Jesus into our brokenness—makes us better moms, better wives, better women of God.

And in the process, our kids grow up in homes where faith isn’t just something they hear about… it’s something they see lived out.

I’ll be honest.

When I left teaching, it felt like I lost a part of myself.

For so long, my identity was wrapped up in the classroom.

In pouring into other people’s children.

In structure, growth, and purpose.

Stepping away felt like I was failing them. I was giving up on my purpose.

But God gently reminded me:

You didn’t lose your identity.

You stepped into a new assignment.

I didn’t stop teaching—I just started teaching the most important student of my life.

I didn’t stop leading—I began leading a little heart toward Jesus.

I didn’t stop shaping lives—I started shaping the one who calls me Mama.

My classroom looks different now.

Less whiteboard, more kitchen table.

Fewer lesson plans, more soul work.

But the purpose? Still eternal. Still sacred.

God didn’t take away my calling—He refined it.

And friend, He’s doing the same for you.

So if you’re feeling unseen…If you’re feeling like you’ve lost yourself…If you’re unsure of your place in this season…

Look again.

You are the gatekeeper of your home.

You are the nurturer of a future disciple.

You are the one He trusted to lead the way.

You don’t need to have all the answers.

You just need to keep showing up, following the blueprint, and trusting the One who holds the full story.

You are not “just a mom. ”

You are chosen.

You are called.

You are seen.

And God is speaking to you—because He knows you’re listening.