Writers block is a curious thing. It can last for a few hours, several days, weeks and weeks, or even years. No writer ever wakes up with the guarantee of having something to say. Sometimes, the words simply stop coming.

I was reading (because if writing seems elusive, at least you can read another’s words) recently about Harper Lee. As a child, I fell deeply in love with To Kill a Mockingbird, a love affair that has yet to cease. In my research of her, I discovered that she produced only two books in her 89 years of life. And to say two books is somewhat generous. After publishing To Kill a Mockingbird, Lee suffered a writing drought of 55 years. She finally published another novel (Go Set a Watchman) in 2015 at 89 years old, a mere eight months prior to her death. Surprisingly, that book was actually written prior to the publication of the work for which she’s most known, and really served as the first draft of Mockingbird. You could say that Go Set a Watchman is simply the first version of To Kill a Mockingbird. Though Lee attempted to write a few more books over the decades, she ended up shelving them all, eventually asserting that she had said everything she wanted with her celebrated novel and needed to say nothing further.

I’m no Harper Lee, y’all. Not even close. But I certainly understand the vast void where words can become caught. This little blog has sat gathering dust for several years. It took an all-out pandemic to unlodge the words accumulating in my mind. A literal pandemic.

So here you go, friends. Ten more lessons from a good, good Father to His broken daughter. He just keeps smoothing over the rough edges and making them pretty again. It’s unfathombly kind.

Enjoy.

1. Motherhood is not WHO you are. It’s an important role, for sure. A high calling. An endeavor worthy of your greatest efforts. But it is not – I repeat NOT – who you are. The roles we fill are not WHO we are. The who can only be found in knowing our identity rests with the Creator. From that, our roles stem. And those roles are flawed. You will fail in those roles sometimes. But your WHO can be rock solid.
2. Right doesn’t always win. At night, we desperately want to lay our heads down knowing that justice prevails. But it just doesn’t. Not always. Innocent men pay for crimes they didn’t commit. Children are failed by government entities created to protect them. Women fail to be vindicated of sexual assault. Prejudice ensues. But there are things that DO prevail. Hope. Love. God’s word. New mornings with fresh mercy. Those are victories for all of us to claim. They right the wrongs and embolden us to try, try again. Don’t hold out for RIGHT. Hold out for the victories only God can provide.
3. See the world. Near and far. As much as you possibly can. Books and movies are fantastic, but they are no good at replacing the understanding of creation you gain by venturing onto the land itself. Talk to the locals while you see the sites. Observe their culture with wonder. It’s all a stunning slice of God’s deep adoration for what He made, each pocket a beautiful expression of Himself. I promise it’ll leave you in total awe.
4. Never judge your kids based on their teen years. Don’t do it. You’ll suddenly feel all panicky inside, like the world is going to hell in a handbasket. But it’s not. Millions – MILLIONS – of faces dotting the world have littered their teen years with impulsive, ill-advised decisions. And many lived to tell the tale. Somehow, oodles of men and women recover from the shackles of teenhood to reveal incredible testimonies and become contributing citizens. I’m a witness to this truth. God does indeed overcome.
5. Life is made in the small hours. I’m talking the smallest of all the hours. The ones hallmarked by spit-up covered sweatshirts and swaying restless babies in the middle of the night. The hours bathed in tantrums and messes and desperation. The minutes that leave you watching the clock obsessively, begging the hands to tick-tock quicker. As kids, we fashion the landscape of our adult lives on the big events – graduation, college, engagement, wedding, babies. Turns out, those are blips in a long line of hours strung together to form a life. Never discount the small. It’s where the real action happens. Mundane is not at all boring when it births a legacy of rich memories and traditions. 
6. Your Insta-life fails us all. Because nothing – NOTHING – good ever comes from fakery. I’ve been transparent about the good, bad and ugly parts of my marriage, motherhood, and foster care. What is there to lose from being frank? If it’s true that living a charmed life is all a big, fat lie (and it is), then truth only serves to unite us. I like pictures of pretty homes. I adore the photos of your beautiful babies. Just don’t forget to show us the other parts of your life too. I’ll commit to sharing all the things with you, if you commit to doing the same. 
7. Not every battle is worth winning. Actually, most of them are not worth winning. Living your life in constant battle only serves to leave you, and everyone around you, bloodied and bruised. So put down your sword. Wave the white flag. Decide to use to your war plans sparingly. Your spouses, families, children, friends, co-workers and neighbors will appreciate the peace.
8. Absolutely everything can be redeemed. There’s literally nothing  – NOTHING – that can’t be restored. Like many of you, I’ve found myself in the deepness of devastation, the sort of gut-wrenching pain that takes your breath away. But God has systematically rehabbed all of it, making new what I thought was lost forever. Dwell in the hope of things unseen, and watch what He does.
9. Marriages are like micro countries. Every marriage carries its own language, customs, traditions, origin and watershed moments. Be careful not to look at any marriage that you’re not a citizen of with judgement. We can only really understand the countries where we hold long-time residency, and marriages are no different. Honor that each marriage is unique, and shy away from comparing it to your own.
10. Presence prevails over deficiency. Because there will always, ALWAYS, be deficiency in your parenting. There isn’t money or status or age or even experience that can usher you into perfect parenting. It’s not achievable. But mere presence can smooth over those rough edges. Presence says to your children ‘My flawed, under-prepared self is HERE, and I’m not going anywhere and I’m going give it my best shot.‘ So be present. At the sports games, and the competitions, and the midweek dinners with eye rolls, and the summer drives with kids bickering in the back seat. Just be there. I promise it’ll sprout fruit in due time. 

Until next week, friends.
-Mande