By: Jennie Scott
Scalding water beat on my back as I rested my forehead on the shower wall. The tears falling down my cheeks mixed with the water from the shower, and one was as hot as the other.
By: Jennie Scott
Scalding water beat on my back as I rested my forehead on the shower wall. The tears falling down my cheeks mixed with the water from the shower, and one was as hot as the other.
By: Jennie Scott
I need to share this message with you without being critical, accusatory, or dismissive. I’ve wrestled with it myself for some time now, and I pray it’s marinated enough in my soul to move into yours with grace.
By: Jennie Scott
I know.
I know that what looks easy in your life takes great planning and coordination and a whole lot of work plus a little bit of luck.
By: Jennie Scott
Tears streamed down my child’s face, the frustration apparent.
The frustration was clear, but the real issue wasn’t. I couldn’t get to the root of the matter. Was it exhaustion? A misunderstanding? Did something happen at school? What was really going on?
I never figured it out. My questioning and probing did no good with the child sprawled across my bed, so I couldn’t make sense of it.
Which basically summarises being a parent.
By: Jennie Scott
The words that stopped me cold weren’t shouted or even spoken angrily. They were gentle, coming through the speakers of my laptop. One sentence, spoken sweetly, as part of a longer podcast episode. One sentence that gave me chills:
By: Jennie Scott
“Did you see where kids were Snapchatting during the shooting?” my sister asked. “They showed the bodies on the ground.”
No, I didn’t. Thank goodness. But I am not surprised.
Read moreSnapchats of Dead Bodies: The Loss of Sacred Things
By: Jennie Scott
Only hours before, I lay immobile on the operating table. Numb from the chest down, I could only watch as nurses draped the sterile field of my abdomen with blue cloth. They counted gauze strips and scalpels, forceps and scissors. They prepared my body for the birth of my child, a birth in which I would be a passive observer.
By: Jennie Scott
I’ve been praying a specific prayer for several years now. Years.
But the answer still remains “no” — or at least, “not yet.”
By: Jennie Scott
My life looks nothing like the one I planned.
My life doesn’t look like most of my friends’ lives.
I am different from most of the other mums in my circle.
And different is hard.
Read moreEncouragement for the Parent Who Just Feels Different
By: Jennie Scott
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about women in my own 37 years, it’s that we feel immense pressure to be more than we can actually be.
Read moreWomen: Five Words You Need to Keep Telling Yourself