Stretched Too Thin: Serving Christ When Everyone Needs You

This is the start of my newest piece for The Gospel Coalition. You can read the whole piece here

I stood in front of the kitchen window with tears threatening, breathing a quick prayer for peace and help.

It was a normal day at home, and my kids weren’t being particularly difficult—they were just being kids. But as I unloaded the dishwasher, I mentally ticked through what to make for dinner, the editing project hanging over my head, my daughter’s school project, the taxes that needed to be filed, and the friend who needed a listening ear—and I pressed my palm to my eyes to stop the tears. I had started to feel resentful about all of the responsibilities I carried, although I couldn’t pinpoint why.

Stretched Too Thin

My first thought was to chastise myself. What is wrong with you? You have a good life, Ann.

It was true: nothing big was wrong. But a hundred smaller things were difficult in the midst of quarantine. My work was intact, but finding reliable childcare was nearly impossible. My ministry to others as a pastor’s wife was needed but often done from a distance. And because of school closures, we’d decided to homeschool.

I felt like I was serving in a hundred ways but missing out on many of the gifts of relationship and normal life that helped make that service joyful and rewarding. It all felt like too much, and those tears at the kitchen window revealed both my frustration and exhaustion.

My circumstances and responsibilities wouldn’t change anytime soon. But my heart could change, and it needed to.

Here’s how the Lord has used this season of life to point my heart toward serving Christ alone.

1. Remember that Christ is the primary person we serve—and he will reward us.

No matter what we are doing, Scripture calls us to remember—and rejoice in—the truth that all of our work and service is ultimately for Christ. The apostle Paul knew this and referred to himself as a servant of the Lord throughout Scripture, understanding that he was called to serve, follow, and obey Christ above all others (e.g., Phil. 1:11 Cor. 3:52 Pet. 1:1).

Read the rest of the article here, at The Gospel Coalition!

Still Waiting by Ann Swindell

Saying Yes Out of Fear

Saying Yes Out of Fear at www.annswindell.com

This is the start of my newest article for (in)courage.

We had just moved cross-country with a kindergartener and an infant, and I was overextended. I could feel it in my body, tense and tight. I could feel it in my mind, stressed and flighty. For the past three years, I had been running my own business to help support our family while my husband was in seminary. Now, we had moved because he had taken a pastoral position, and while I had taken on the new role of being a pastor’s wife, I hadn’t slowed down with anything in my own work. In fact, I had picked up a few more responsibilities.

Why? Well, when you’ve worked at a dream for a while and the door starts to crack open, it’s a good idea to say yes to everything that’s behind the door, right? Because you’re never sure how long that door will stay open or if anyone will let you in ever again, so you should go for it, right?

Wrong.

Why? Well, for those of us who are pursuing a dream — whether it’s creative in nature, as mine is, or business-based, or something else entirely — it can be tempting to say yes to anything and everything that might help us move toward the passions we carry in our hearts. But are we saying yes to opportunities out of faith or out of fear?

Are we saying yes to opportunities out of faith or out of fear? Share on X

When I’m not walking in God’s peace, I find that fear often takes its place as a big motivator for me. Sadly, I’ve said yes to some writing opportunities because I was afraid the chance wouldn’t come around again. I was afraid of missing out. I’ve overextended myself because I thought the opportunity “out there” was more important than the opportunities I already had right in front of me.

I say yes out of fear. I say yes because I’m afraid of being left behind.

Read the rest of the article here, at (in)courage!

The Writing Mom Course: for moms who want to pursue their passion in the crazy years of motherhood! www.thewritingmomcourse.com

Messy Homes and Open Hearts: An Article For Deeply Rooted

We were new to the area, and I was getting desperate for some friends. After the proverbial dust had settled from our move back to my hometown, I found myself more displaced than I expected to be. Sure, I hadn’t lived here in over 15 years, but it was my hometown. Why did it feel so hard to connect with other women? Why did settling in feel suddenly foreign? 

Well, for one thing, I had changed—I was returning to my hometown now as a wife and a mom, and the unspoken rules for friendships had drastically shifted. In high school, friendship had been based off of mutual passions and pastimes (mine had been volleyball and poetry). We had weekends and weeknights to spend together, studying and laughing and driving around our mid-size town until we made it to Steak N Shake.  

Welcoming Friends Inside Your Messy Home at annswindell.com

But here in these early years of motherhood, friendship was much more opaque. There might be other women in town who loved writing, but where would I find them? There might be other moms who loved to discuss books and theology, but how would I discover them? No, friendship in these years, I knew, was probably going to stem from being in similar stages of life. I needed some other moms who were on the same steep learning curve of figuring out how to care for the little ones at our feet. 

But I needed someone to let me in. Although I was back in my own town, I was the new girl, and for the first time in years I felt unsure about how to start friendships.

Read the rest of the article over at the Deeply Rooted blog!

Registration is open now! (1)

How to Balance Motherhood and Writing

I’ve been a professional writer for the last decade, and for the last half of that decade, I’ve also been a mom. I deeply love being a writer, and I deeply love being a mom…but the two passions don’t always line up smoothly. Writing requires a certain amount of focus and quiet and time–three things that are often difficult (if not impossible!) to find as a mom. Kids don’t seem to appreciate the fine art of offering their parents uninterrupted blocks of quiet, focused time…

Still, I don’t think that writing and motherhood are mutually exclusive. In fact, I’ve found that the two can jive really well together–with some creativity and help. Over the years, I’ve talked with so many fellow moms who are struggling with how to stay connected to their passion as a writer while simultaneously holding down the fort at home (and also sometimes at work). And that’s why I’ve created The Writing Mom Course.

How to Balance Writing and Motherhood at The Writing Mom. www.thewritingmomcourse.com

This course covers the big questions and practical insights that women are looking for as they pursue writing in the season of motherhood, and I am SO EXCITED about it. We talk about issues of time, balance, writing voice, platform, and others–the list goes on! I’ve poured what I’ve learned as a writing mom into these six classes and worksheets, and I’d love for you to visit the new site, watch the video, and learn about how I want to encourage and equip you on your writing journey!

Also, this week only, I’ve knocked the price down to $39.95…which is cheaper than a family of four going out to eat! I’m hopeful that this can be a resource for you as you pursue your passion of writing as a mom!

Join me here, at The Writing Mom!

The Writing Mom Course at www.thewritingmomcourse.com

Writing for Christ’s Glory

Writing for Christ's glory.

Image via Deeply Rooted Magazine

This is the start of my newest article for Deeply Rooted Magazine.
Read the full article here!

For those of us who are word lovers, who enjoy the feeling of pens in our hands and keys clacking under our fingertips, writing often feels like second nature, like coming home. We love the ways that words help us make sense of our lives and help us encounter God.

This, I believe, is a good and holy thing.

After all, God spoke the universe into existence with a word. The first five verses of the book of John remind us of the beautiful and timeless declaration that Jesus is, himself, the Word—and so we see that who God is and how he is are bound up in the power of words.

To be those who love and use words is a high and sacred calling—and not one that we can take lightly. This is because words hold great power; they name us, shape us, and ultimately point us (and our readers) to the Truth of Christ or to lies and death.

Words hold great power; they name us, shape us, and point us to truth--or lies. Share on X

But how do we seek to be women who are writing for Christ’s glory? While there’s no one definitive answer, my own journey as a writer has shown me several ways that we can focus our hearts and our words on Jesus in this work of writing.

First, I believe that writing for Christ’s glory means that we lay down our right to renown. In the world’s eyes, a writer garners praise for her byline, for her status, for her fame. But to write in the Kingdom may mean something else entirely. It means that our heart’s aim is not to secure our own fame, but the fame of our King. If we have opportunities to write that further his Kingdom and his work in the world, then we can pursue those without concern for our own name.

Read the rest of the article here, at Deeply Rooted!

And if you’re a writer, head over to Writing with Grace to learn about the six week writing course that I teach. Registration is open now, but only for a little while longer!

The Unhappiest Year of My Life: The High and Holy Calling of Motherhood

This is one of my articles for Today’s Christian Woman.

Everything about having a baby is touted as happy: the rounding belly, the cute maternity clothes, the baby showers, the adorable tiny clothes.

Yes, pregnancy can be difficult for some women (for me it was very hard), but the overarching sentiment is that having a baby is an amazing, wonderful thing. And it truly is. The miracle of life, the gift of a child, the hope of a growing family—these are all amazing, wonderful things. Beautiful things. Happy things, even. But for me, the first year of my daughter’s life wasn’t very happy.

Actually, it was the unhappiest year of my life.

I knew that having a child would change things; many of my friends had already become parents, and I had watched them go from women with time for coffee dates and professional lives to moms who were worn out and frazzled. I didn’t expect the transition to parenthood to be easy. I didn’t expect that I would sleep much or that I would have a lot of extra time.

Still, I did expect to be happy. I thought that having a baby—a baby that we’d hoped and prayed for—would bring happiness in the midst of sleep deprivation and the transition into life as parents.

How to Make it When Motherhood is Hard. www.annswindell.com

But I wasn’t happy; at least not for a good while. Don’t get me wrong—I was thankful. Ella and I were both healthy, I loved her immensely, and seeing my husband as a father was incredible. But the combination of exhaustion, the lack of time for myself, the shift in my identity to becoming a mother, the change in our marriage relationship, and the depth of responsibility I felt for my daughter, all combined with those powerful postpartum hormones, left me feeling very, very unhappy.

As a new mom, I missed my old life. Would I ever be happy again? #motherhood Share on X

I missed my old life. It’s not that I didn’t want to be Ella’s mom; I loved her more than I thought was possible. But I missed the freedom and rest that I realized I would never get back. I missed being able to put myself first, something that felt increasingly impossible. I missed who I was, and I had the realization that I was never going to be that woman again.

A Shared Experience

Women don’t always talk about it, but many are unhappy—to some degree—during that first year of motherhood. The Max Planck Institute for Demographic Research in Rostock, Germany, recently reported that the “drop in happiness experienced by parents after the birth of first child was larger than the experience of unemployment, divorce or the death of a partner” (Source). Similarly, an earlier study published in Great Britain noted that “parents often report statistically significantly lower levels of happiness, life satisfaction, marital satisfaction and mental well-being compared with non-parents” (Source).

Here’s what some other moms told me about their first year of motherhood:

“I wanted adult conversation. Because I was doing same routine everyday, I felt my intelligence and self esteem diminishing.”

“Having no time to myself and being utterly sleep deprived brought out bitter anger that I’d never dealt with before and was without tools to deal with.”

“I was terribly caught off guard by how my relationship with my husband changed. I suddenly had experiences and a life he couldn’t relate to.”

“I lost any desire for sex because of the fatigue and the physical and hormonal changes.”

Additionally, for many new moms, the shift in their spiritual life—on top of and because of all of the other changes—can cause a great deal of unhappiness, too. One mom remembers that she “found it completely impossible to pray because my mind simply would not stop buzzing with so many things.” Time for a devotional life dwindles down to nothing, or emotional and hormonal changes send us into a dark spiral of depression.

So: the drop in happiness, the loss of identity and adult interaction, the lack of sleep and energy, the change in our marriages and even our relationship with God—these are high costs that most mothers pay time and time again in the early years of child-rearing. So why have children? Are mothers giving themselves over to a life of exhaustion and self-loss?

The Cost of Motherhood

In some ways, the answer is yes. Yes, every intentional mother (and father, albeit in different ways), is giving herself over to a life of exhaustion and self-loss. The cost is very real, and, at times, very painful. And still, we have a model who taught us about the surprising gift we can receive through exhaustion and self-loss: Jesus.

Jesus was, undoubtedly, exhausted at times by his ministry on earth (Mark 4:37-39), and all of his life was aimed at the supreme act of self-loss for the sake of those he loved through his death on the cross. Does that mean that as mothers, we are called to give up everything, too?

No, not in the same way Jesus did. We are not the savior of our children—Christ is. We are not supposed to find our identity or value in our children—that is found only in Christ. We are not asked to find our value in our role as moms—our value is in who Jesus says we are, not in what we do. But the way of Christ is the call to pick up our cross and lay down our life (Matt. 16-24-26), and for many of us, mothering will reveal the depths of that call like nothing else. We will be asked to lay aside our immediate desires for the sake of our children’s wellbeing and growth. We will be asked to consider one little life—or many little lives—as more important than our own (Phil. 2:3-4). And we will feel the loss of self in new and, often, painful ways—sometimes in ways that make us very unhappy.

We are not the savior of our children—Christ is. #motherhood Share on X

The Gift in the Struggle

Yet, there is a deeper joy that goes beyond the cost of our unhappiness—the gift of sufficiency in Christ. For Christ himself tells us that “…whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25). In our weakness and our pain and our sorrow, we are offered the gift of Christ’s strength: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). In the places where, as mothers, it often feels most like we are losing our own lives—losing our freedom, our time, our sleep, our energy—we have the opportunity to find our lives through the sufficiency of Christ as we rely on him for everything. One mom puts it this way: “Being a mom drove me to my knees in helplessness before God, which in the long run did a great deal of good in me.”

So while having a child may make us “unhappier,” perhaps that is not a bad thing.[1] Perhaps the gift of getting to experience Christ’s strength in our weakness, perhaps letting the struggle of motherhood reveal our reliance upon Him—perhaps these are the very things that will lead us into joy that runs deeper than fleeting happiness. I know it has for me. I don’t always feel thrilled about the responsibilities that I carry as a mother, and I don’t usually feel happy about being exhausted. Still, I’ve never felt more joyful than when I’m holding my daughter in my arms, aware that my loving Heavenly Father—who sees me, cares for me, and knows my needs—is holding me, too.

 

[1] If you are struggling with deep sadness that persists or anxiety that won’t go away, you may have post-partum depression. Please seek professional help and start the journey to healing—in Christ, healing is possible.

 

Still Waiting is available now! www.stillwaitingbook.com