These pandemic days have me reliving my early years of motherhood. Though my children are older now, their never-ending company leaves me freshly aware of how much motherhood requires of me. As I try to pound out coherent thoughts on the keyboard, I do so with the sound of sibling arguments echoing in the background.
When I first returned to church after leaving my faith in college, my attendance was spotty. Most weeks, I was weary by Sunday. The remnants of my life apart from Christ still held me with a firm grasp, and at the end of a week of waging war, I was exhausted.