I had a professor in college stop mid-lecture to rant about how many people wrote the words “things” and “stuff” in their essays.

“Be specific! I don’t know if your ‘things’ are shoelaces or shotguns,” she said with the rage of a thousand English teachers. “Specificity provides clarity for the reader,” she later added. It was a valuable statement that stuck with me every time my fingers hit the keys. What good is it if I write something that isn’t clear?

But secretly, I’ve always loved the word things. “Stuff” sounds too excessive, like you’re talking about the boxes of your great aunt’s pictures and dusty floral vases sitting in your garage gathering the smell of mildew. “Things” is intriguing, like a secret whispered behind the reader’s back, only for them to later discover its meaning.

So this is me, sharing my secrets that have brought little pockets of joy into my day-to-day life as we soak up summer (at appropriate Florida hours) and await the arrival of our second baby girl. How could I gatekeep what has brought life, joy, and fun into my days? 🌷

1. Philosophy’s Senorita Margarita Scented Body Wash.

   

   I’m convinced that a fun, scenty shower gel can change the trajectory of a girl’s day. This was a Christmas gift, and man am I grateful. As advertised, this body wash literally smells like pineapple and key lime. Almost as tempting to taste as the Lip Smackers glosses—if you know, you know. Leaning into seasonally fun items helps me embrace nature’s intervals. At the end of a long day in the summer sun with my toddler, I am reaching for this to douse me in delectable summer smells. She calls it my “special green soap.” Next year, I’m hoping to get my hands on their coconut splash scent! Happy smelling like summer bliss. 🌊

   

   2. Trader Joe’s Rolled Corn Chili & Lime Tortilla Chips

It’s the way these have had a craving grip on me my entire pregnancy. Last pregnancy, I craved breakfast food—bagels, eggs, sausage, OJ—the works. Today? I want spice! You know how we have an old wives' tale that if you crave chewing on ice, you potentially have low iron? I’m pretty sure my hankering for these bad boys is my tell that I am deficient in some vitamin or mineral. I could make a trip to the vitamin shop down the road, but I’m not convinced they will satisfy me the way these perfectly seasoned (still chemical-filled, but fewer than Takis) chips do.

3. Press-on Tattoos and Crafting with Friends

   Having a child has brought me back to simple childhood joys as if I’m experiencing them for the first time. The wonder on my daughter’s face as I revealed her unicorn and the realization that she can have a “skin sticker” that lasts for days is mind-blowing to her. Each new discovery is life’s next best thing, whether it’s Piggy Paint (peep our toddler-safe pink and purple sparkly nails) or sparkly tattoos. Plus, add crafting with a dear friend into the mix? Count me in! In an attempt to make keychains, I crafted this little number to hang on my diaper bag (we’ll see how long it lasts the grip of my toddler—how are they so little yet so strong??). These are simply little things that add a spark into the day and remind us we’re alive! ✨

4. Reading And Highlighting More Slowly

   

It goes without saying that I am tired. Being pregnant in the Florida heat with a toddler really takes a girl down some days. So, sleep has been vital to my health and strength. Some days haven’t looked like a heavy theology study with an interlinear concordance. It’s looked more like me choosing a book of the Bible to read, reread, and reread again because my pregnancy brain forgets what I read even though I just read it five seconds ago. So lately, I’ve taken a slower, more meditative approach to reading and praying through Scripture. I read, highlight, sit, think, and pray through what I’m reading. I’ve actually found that slowing down and having less study-oriented time in the Word has drawn me closer to Him and refreshed me in ways I didn’t even know I needed.

5. Summer Days with My Toddler

Having a two-year-old is a blast; they are funny, creative, and eager to learn. And there are so many fun ways to learn when you’re little, like counting seashells and doing ABC hopscotch. I’ve had to fight this quiet pressure that she has to know all these things as soon as possible or she’ll be behind, when the fact is, she will learn at her own pace, and the more fun learning is, the more she will actually remember. So I’ve been trying to use every creative outlet as an opportunity for fun learning games. Whether it’s counting how many times we stir a pot of Goodles mac 'n' cheese, or watercoloring our own ABC poster, there is so much more to education than worksheets and flashcards.

As we head into another season of sleep deprivation and little kisses on little fingers, you may only hear from me randomly, but I’m still here, still planning drafts that may or may not make it out into the world, and thinking about what it means to be a true disciple of Jesus.

Blessings,

Amber Lee

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Two-year-olds are the most passionate, creative, and chaotic people on the planet. They are the only people who can get away with screaming in public and receive compassionate glances from those who remember “those days” and swear “they go by too fast.” And I’ve found that they are right—time does go by fast—but you know what else does? My toddler. Her capacity to run into her room and tear every single piece of clothing out of her dresser drawers, stuff her half-eaten banana in one of them, maybe do a little artwork on the wall while she’s at it, and then ask, “What happened, momma?” leaves me speechless. How do I correct and redirect five behaviors at one time all while being gaslit that she has no idea how any of the events occurred?

I can’t help but grin as I recall this moment. I am a mother and my job description includes training and teaching my daughter how to channel her passion in a way that isn’t so….frenzied. Yet, in my heart of hearts, I’m standing there, holding back a smile as I look down on this little girl who has so much drive in her fast-growing body that she can’t help but create chaos when no one is looking. There’s something about her simplicity that pulls me towards mercy like the tide to the shore.

It’s her sighs when I ask her to use her little potty while I unload the groceries that make me giggle. Her mega tears with screams when she stubs her toes that draws my heart to hers. And her near-hyperventilating panic when she can’t find her favorite pair of bright pink sandals that reminds me just how fragile the world may feel to her. Even though sometimes the answer remains no or not right now, I still want to have a heart that is tender to her perception of the world. I want her to know that mama’s job is teach her, but I still care about how she feels and want her to come to me.

And isn’t this how God looks at us? With eyes and heart eagerly awaiting our genuine cries to Him that He would meet our every need? Yes, He disciplines those He loves (Hebrews 12:6). Yes, He calls us to actual repentance and reconciliation (2 Chronicles 7:14). But at the core of the Father’s heart are so many whisperings that discipline isn’t the way God delights in interacting with His creation. Even when dealing with our deepest rebellion, His ultimate desire is always restoration rather than punishment. We see this heart of restraint throughout the scriptures:

Ezekiel 33:11: “Say to them, ‘As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why will you die, O house of Israel?’”

Lamentations 3:33: “For he does not afflict from his heart or grieve the children of men.”

Psalm 103:10: “He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities.”

Sometimes mercy feels counterintuitive. It feels too good to be true. But when I look at my own life, mistakes, misunderstandings, and sins, there are so many moments where I should have received punishment for what I had thought, said, or done, but instead I was met with His mercy. Or as we say in our house, a do-over. I’ve been given many second chances. Many opportunities to try again and learn from what I had originally gotten wrong. And it was His mercy that taught me to trust Him. It was His fatherly withholding that led me to genuine surrender. It was the kindness of His protective love that ultimately led me to repentance.

When torn between mercy and anger, I’ve often heard people say things like, “They got what was coming to them,” “God will not be mocked! A man reaps what he sows,” and “God does not stop us from the consequences of our sin.” In ways, they are right; there are consequences to our sins. But it is the mercy of God that we do not always pay them. Mercy isn’t the absence of acknowledging wrongs. Mercy sees wrongs, but looks with eyes of love at the lack of understanding one has and moves towards them with a heart of compassion.

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Raising a two-year-old gives many opportunities for this kind of compassion. When big, loud tears rise to the surface because mom or dad said no to a treat, and then a tantrum ensues, I want to feel compassion for her while still holding my parental ground. When she weeps and wails over the yogurt pouch I gave her because she didn’t actually want yogurt but a cheese stick (silly me), I want to feel compassion for her.

Yes, sometimes consequences are the right and good choice. Disrespect and disobedience receive immediate consequences because our orders to teach her come from the Lord. But the heart of parenting also comes from Him—a heart that wants to scoop her up, kiss her squishy cheeks, and laugh a little because she doesn’t actually know what is best for her, only what she wants.

I don’t know where you find yourself today, friend. Maybe you’re burnt out, tired of repeating yourself to children who seem tone-deaf to the sound of your voice. Maybe you are feeling desperate for a drink from the well of life. I, too, find myself in these places often. But I find strength in remembering the mercy I’ve received—the beautiful reality of the endless do-overs He has given me as I’ve learned to obey—and that His heart is ever leaning towards me to trust Him more and more.

How can you show mercy or have a heart of mercy towards your child this week like your Heavenly Father has towards you?

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~Amber Lee Rabon 🌷

Coming off Easter weekend and all things spring in bloom, I’ve been thinking about Palm Sunday a lot lately. This was the first year my daughter was really able to understand any significance in a Bible story, so we read through her kids’ Bible (The Jesus Storybook Bible is amazing if you’re looking for one). We acted out the scene of Jesus riding in on the donkey while waving around stuffed animals as if they were palm fronds, singing “Hosanna!”

As we made our way through the story, I realized I had forgotten what the word Hosanna meant, so like any modern seeker, I Googled it. Like most things we say now, its original meaning has been blurred by time and modernity. We sing Hosanna as a form of worship, but as the tired souls of Jerusalem cried out “Blessed be He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna!” what they were truly saying was: “Save us, we beg!”

I sat on the floor with my daughter, pondering how to explain the true heart of this moment while she threw her stuffed animals around and danced. I kept it simple for the sake of her two-year-old attention span, telling her that Jesus came to save us from our sins, so we praise Him and sing, “Hosanna!” Sin is the desire we have to rebel against God and disobey what He says, I added. But I knew there was more to that scene than just a donkey, a king, and onlookers with tree branches.

The Lord has continued to bring it to my mind’s eye. Lying in bed, as my nausea medication dulled the churning in my stomach, I closed my eyes and saw the image created by that story: God in flesh—humble, gentle, and tenderhearted—riding in on a lowly donkey, knowing exactly what suffering awaited Him. Crowds screaming, shouting, crying out to be delivered. With hearts and wallets weary from the political oppression they faced under Rome’s control, they sang out, “Hosanna!” hoping that Jesus was going to overthrow the government.

Their eyes were so focused on their physical circumstances that they weren’t aware of their need for a spiritual Savior. Jesus came, not to make their lives easier, but to rescue them from a darkened spiritual state that would keep them from Him forever. So as He rode in, hearing their pleas, His long-suffering love looked beyond what they thought they needed. He went to the cross to save a people who didn’t even know who He was. To them, a Messiah was simply an “anointed one,” which they naturally assumed meant a powerful earthly king.

I say the people didn’t know who Jesus was because roughly six months before His entry into Jerusalem, Jesus had taken the disciples to Caesarea Philippi and asked them, “Who do people say I am?” The responses show that many saw Jesus as just a good spiritual teacher or prophet, not a spiritual Savior. Peter, however, saw Jesus as the Messiah because the Spirit revealed it to him.

Matthew 16:13-17 When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven.”

I have no sudden “ah-ha!” moment from these ponderings, but as I’ve thought, prayed, and continued to read Bible stories to my daughter, I’ve realized just how important it is to communicate the absolute Truth to her: We have an innate desire to rebel against God and disobey His word, but Christ came to free us through faith in His finished work on the cross. And from that point of surrender, God slowly transforms us, giving us new desires to obey and walk in His Spirit.

Growing up in the church, I heard Bible stories often, but I mostly remember the big ones: Noah’s Ark, David and Goliath, and Jesus feeding the five thousand. For all the true stories I had filed away in my memory, I really didn’t have a grasp on God’s role in them until I was much older. In so many ways, all I learned were historical accounts about brave men and women, rather than the story of a humble and long-suffering God who calls us into a loving relationship with Him.

So as I sat on the floor with my daughter this early Easter morning and we finished our journey through the story that brings about salvation, I wanted her to see Jesus more than any other character. He alone brings new life. He alone keeps us, sustains us, and straightens out our relationship with the Father. Only by faith do we see that His shed blood was, indeed, Holy.

My mind then turns inward and asks: In what ways do I miss Jesus? Where are my eyes so glued to this earth that I overlook the heartbeat of heaven in human form? Where do I have lingering beliefs that Jesus came to make my life easier, rather than to make me holier?

I sit, I pray, I confess, and I praise. I know I’m missing Him. I’m missing the heart of the Father in both the small moments and the big ones. I’m missing Him in how I let myself think and feel, and in what I say in moments when I fail to be slow to speak.

But I see the image of Him on the donkey. He had full knowledge that those people were missing Him entirely, and yet He still went to Golgotha with a cross on His back.

All I can do is praise, because this is the gospel: God in flesh, dying to self—letting Himself be put to death—to love an ignorant people and draw them near.

I don’t know what you’ll take away from this, friend, but all I can say is this: Even when we miss Him completely, He never misses us.

All glory and praise to Christ our King!

~ Amber Lee 🌷

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Readers, friends, I’ve missed you! As you see in my title, I am pregnant with our second child! Yay! Praise Jesus! This is something that has been prayed for—and cried for—for many months leading up to this. (You can read about the journey here: To all the tears shed behind closed doors.)

You might read the word “trenches” and immediately assume I am about to boo-hoo all over your inbox about the woes of pregnancy. But hear me out: can’t things be both hard and good? Can’t I be deeply grateful for new life and also sad because of how debilitating the first trimester has been?

As I’ve been wading through the literal trenches of extreme nausea, fatigue, and other symptoms I’ll spare you from, the Lord is teaching me to have a faith like Job—a faith that believes not merely in the power of God, but in His character and heart.

When Job faced immediate loss and physical suffering, he put his confidence in the character of God as his Creator, having faith that God was still wiser than his own understanding.

Job 1:21-22: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.” In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.

Friend, I’ve spent much of this first trimester crying over how truly hard these symptoms have been. Most days, I’ve been on my couch or on the floor, trying to play with my daughter while simultaneously trying not to throw up. My prayers have been a little less worshipful and more like I’m bartering with God to make my life easier: “Just take it away, God! You are literally the Almighty Healer!” and “I’ll take fatigue over feeling like I’m going to hurl every ten minutes. Deal?” Embarrassing, I know. But when you scoop up your toddler, smell her head, then lean over to puke because the smell of her shampoo now ruins you, I’m sure you’ll have some compassion on my pitiful requests to God.

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When we started on this journey of trying for baby number two, I wasn’t thinking about the nausea, fatigue, and dizziness that would come with it. I definitely wasn’t thinking that I would be in bed at 6:30 (absent from my husband and daughter) every evening because I felt like I had vertigo. All I was thinking about was a little bundle of flesh that I’d hug and kiss and welcome into our family.

It’s funny how sometimes we pray for things and don’t exactly know what the Lord will do with what we pray for. We hope the Lord will get on board with our plan to keep things simple and easy instead of using all things to draw us closer and make us more like Jesus. Like, come on, Lord, keep it easy this one time… here’s a twenty. Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink. But God, in His infinite wisdom, declined my very tempting begs and has allowed me to experience these symptoms.

In these long three months, my personal time reading the Word has been scattered. I haven’t been up before my daughter like I was pre-pregnancy. And most of her naptimes were my naptimes if I was going to survive the rest of the day. So, I’ve spent a lot of time praying (mostly begging and pleading for the gravity of the symptoms to lighten, but still prayer!). And throughout this whole time, I’ve felt the Lord quietly whispering to my heart, “Have faith.” I’ve heard this quiet whisper for months now. Through podcasts, sermons, and the Holy Spirit bringing Scripture to mind as I lie on the floor, God has been clear with me—I need to have faith.

But not faith that He would miraculously take away my symptoms (even though He 100% has the power and could have done that). He was prodding something much deeper in my heart. I needed to have faith that He loved me, He would take care of me, and He would give me enough manna for each moment of each day.

I felt like Abraham, who looked at his body and said, “Truthfully, my body is breaking down, but faithfully, I know the One who can do what He has promised”:

Romans 4:18-22: Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead—since he was about a hundred years old—and that Sarah’s womb was also dead. Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. This is why “it was credited to him as righteousness.”

Having faith doesn’t mean denying reality; it means acknowledging what is true on this side of heaven and then placing our security in the heart and character of God despite it. And through this moment-by-moment choosing to say, “I believe You are who You say You are, and Your heart toward me is good, Father,” we find the strength we need. Worshipping through suffering spiritually redeems the pain we’re going through, even if it doesn’t take it away.

As we head into a weekend where Christians gather to celebrate the death and resurrection of God in the flesh, Jesus Christ—who submitted to the suffering of the cross for the sins of all—I am comforted by the hope of the resurrection. Our bodies may face trials of suffering and our spirits temptations to doubt our God, but one day, He will wipe away every tear and heal every wound (Revelations 21:4). We have so much hope, friends!

🌷As we celebrate the joy of the empty tomb this weekend, I’d love to hear from you in the comments: What specific truth about God's character are you clinging to in your current season?

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~Amber Lee 🌷

When I was a mere eleven years old, I remember telling my best friend that I thought my life would go in one of two ways: I would get married and have multiple kids by the ripe old age of twenty-two, or I’d become a child advocate—potentially a lawyer. Another option was to become a pop-star, so I could sing on a stage and wear sparkly outfits.

The memory is vivid in my mind. We were sitting on the zebra-print carpet in my green and hot-pink room, which we had to get to via dangling beads and CDs draped from the doorway. I chuckle as I write this, but back then, we thought our dreams were spot on. Turns out, they were as wild as my sister’s and my bedroom decor.

I love that I dreamt of my future as a little girl should. Children ought to be curious about what the future might hold, as it truly is a grand adventure with the Lord. But in reality, as I grew to follow God, I realized how different His plans for my life were from what I had envisioned for myself.

As I write this, I’m sitting on my adult, beige-carpeted bedroom floor (goodbye zebra print), folding clothes while my near two-year-old naps. I’m closing in on thirty, our family lives in an apartment, and I joyfully left my career as a middle school English teacher to stay home full-time. Life is, needless to say, very different than what I thought. But that big heart and vivid imagination I had as a little girl still exists today. Those dreams just look different.

Today, I pray to own a home one day. I know the Lord well enough to know that I am safe to pray these prayers and ask Him for the true desires of my heart, no matter how big or small. But I also know that because He is Almighty God, and His wisdom is perfect, there are things He knows that I don’t. So I pray, and I ask that He would provide the resources for us to one day have a space that is our own.

I tell Him how my heart longs for a yard for children to play in and a garden to grow fresh produce, like I had when I was growing up. I save pins on Pinterest that fall into the “modern cottage core” category because, if given the opportunity, I’d want our home to feel like a scene right out of Anne of Green Gables—except with working electricity. I dream of the differing wallpaper I would put on each wall or the colors I would paint them. My handy (and handsome) husband would manage the big renovations, and we would create a space that truly feels like ours.

I tell the Lord that the truest desire of my heart is not just for the decor, but to have a space to fill with people—our families, our friends, or people in need. We both pray that the Lord would use a home to fill bellies, heal wounds, and be a balm of laughter, even if just for a night. I want to hear kids running, laughing, and playing tag outside. I want to see hands that have been painting and feet that have felt the earth beneath them, then tell them to run through the sprinklers to “clean up” in a fun way. I want to watch their joy burst forth in our yard, feeling the tickle of grass under my feet and the warmth of sunshine on my cheeks.

I pray all these things. I tell my Father my dreams. I open my hands and offer them up to Him, asking that He would help us get a home. I tell Him how every time we come close to having a decent amount of money saved, we face a crisis or bill that drains our savings. This feels impossible, Father, I say, but with You, I know it’s a small thing. I cry when I tell Him these things because vulnerability can be scary, even with the Lord. For as much as I believe that He is capable, I don’t know if it’s in His plans for us to have a house yet. But I dream, I pray, and my husband and I set aside any left over money each month. Then I leave my request there, at His feet, and I thank Him for our current home.

I thank Him for already providing for us—for each and every bill that feels like it’s going to take us under. I thank Him for the extra space we have in this apartment that truly gives it a homey feel. I thank Him for the food on our table and the clothes on our backs, no matter the season. We are always taken care of by our good Father. I thank Him that we’ve been able to help people by giving them a stay on our air mattress and fill the bellies of friends, even if it looks different than what I dreamed.

I walk around our already home and thank Him because He is with us. His Spirit fills our hearts, and His peace protects our space. I’m reminded of families I know who weren’t able to buy their first home until much later in life. Yet, that never stopped them from opening their doors and ministering to others.

Then He brings to mind two scriptures that echo similar truths:

Luke 16:10-14: “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. ¹¹So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? ¹² And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?

¹³ “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”

¹⁴ The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all this and were sneering at Jesus. ¹⁵ He said to them, “You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of others, but God knows your hearts. What people value highly is detestable in God’s sight.

Matthew 25:19-23: “¹⁹ After a long time the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them. ²⁰ The man who had received five bags of gold brought the other five. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with five bags of gold. See, I have gained five more.’

²¹ “His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’

²² “The man with two bags of gold also came. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with two bags of gold; see, I have gained two more.’

²³ “His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’

I grab my Bible and meditated on these passages in their larger contexts. As I read them slowly, I begin to see how both stories reveal a test of character of those entrusted with the valuables of the master. Hard work and stewardship matter in the kingdom of God.

My mind is drawn towards the words “trustworthy” in Luke and “faithful” in Matthew. These words stem from the same Greek word πιστός (pistos), which means someone who is trustworthy, reliable, steadfast, and worthy of belief. In both stories, the servant who worked hard, valued the master’s money, and worked with whatever the master gave them is described this way.

Faithfulness is about actively stewarding whatever God has placed in our hands at the moment, with the understanding that we will offer it back to Him to be evaluated when we stand before Him.

Whether we live in a hut in the rainforest or a mansion on the beach, the best time to start stewarding what God has given us is always the present because ultimately, these gifts aren’t for us, they are for Him.

What we are given on this side of heaven is a test of our hearts—will we love the things God gives us more than using them for His purposes?

I close my eyes and let this real-time conversation with God sink in. As I meditated on those sections in Luke and Matthew, my asking God for a home felt less like I was placing a glass jar in front of Him to fill and more like He was giving me a full jar, asking me to see it for what it already is.

Every meal served, every load of laundry washed, every dollar given to others, even when we feel we can’t afford it, is stewardship. It is us using all that God has given us for His glory and the good of others.

And in this longing for home ownership, I am comforted by the hope of a home in new heaven, new earth. I have a home waiting for you, He whispers to my heart.

John 14:3: “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

The more I engage with God about His plans for my life, not only do my steps become more clear, but my desires change and align with His.

Beloved by God, He knows us better than we know ourselves and the stories He’s writing in our lives far exceeds what we can imagine. Stories of faithful stewardship, of true gratitude, of peace, of humility, and simplicity.

So, to you, dear reader, whether you are struggling to get by or rolling in the dough, you are stewarding something that actually belongs to God Almighty. Let’s steward what our Master has given to us for His glory and the good of others, not storing up our own riches here where things are temporary, but for the Kingdom to come.

Whatever is true and whatever is lovely,

Amber Lee 🌷

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Before I get into the meat and potatoes of this sermon, I want to acknowledge that I share a lot of personal stories with you, my reader-friend. I tell you about the heart-transforming work God is doing in my life, not to appeal to your emotions, but to your faith. I pray that when you read about the work of God in my life, that you, too, would turn your heart towards Him and believe Him to be God. Your story is different from mine, but if you follow Jesus, you can trust that the same God who works in me—the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—works in you. So I invite you into my life, my home, my family, and my heart to see just how intentional God is at redeeming all things.

What you read here on “The Overflow” isn’t microwaved Christianity. It isn’t false vulnerability. These posts are hard to write. It’s hard to expose my shortcomings, but I know that I’ve needed more honest stories in my life, so I share and pray you see God more clearly through them. I’m not creating impactful moments for you to think I’m a super Christian—that’s not real. I write as I live. As the Spirit convicts, I write about repentance. As the Lord restores, I write about reconciliation. As I learn faithful obedience, I tell you of the freedoms that come with it. I feel compelled to share with you the real-life moments because I want to assure you that I have no power outside of the Holy Spirit within me.

If you’ve been a part of “The Overflow” for a while, you’ve probably noticed a theme in some of my recent posts about spiritual growth, godly fruit, and maturity in Christ. Part of the reason why I’ve been writing so much about the topic is because last year was a year of God’s pruning in my life.

Jesus tells us in John 15:2 that pruning will happen in our spiritual lives for more growth to burst forth: “Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.”

Brothers and sisters in Jesus, we will be pruned. Let us not despise it, but lean into it, knowing that we are maturing through it. Paul echo’s the call to growth in Colossians 1:28, where he clarifies why he strives for ministry within the churches: “Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ.”

These posts are simply because out of His great love for broken people, like myself, He gave me the invitation to put my faith in Him and follow Him, and I did. He has made me alive in Christ and calls me into a new identity as His daughter. The way of True Life isn’t through pride and self-protection, it’s through humility and surrender, just as Jesus exampled for us. So I continue to share the good and the hard for your encouragement and exhortation in the Lord. Praise Him for His faithful love towards us! 😊

The Father’s Day sermon at our church in 2025 was unexpected and uncomfortable.

It was different than our pastor’s usual verse-by-verse teaching. But also, most Father’s Day sermons that I’ve heard seem to center around a challenge to dads to be better, more attentive in their families, and present with the Lord—important truths that exhort men to live godly lives.

Yet, this year’s sermon was something that left me utterly convicted, in tears, and asking for my husband’s forgiveness on the drive home.

Our pastor, both knowledgeable and gentle, began by stating how heavy the message had been weighing on his spirit.

“This is not going to be comfortable nor expected, but I know it is needed because God has burdened me with this for weeks.”

He started by reading a few different passages about the different commands to honor fathers found in scripture. Some of which were the following:

• Exodus 20:12 – “Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.”

• Colossians 3:20 – “Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord.”

• Proverbs 23:22 – “Listen to your father who gave you life, and do not despise your mother when she is old.”

• Proverbs 10:1 – “A wise son makes a glad father, but a foolish son is a sorrow to his mother.”

• Proverbs 13:1 – “A wise son hears his father’s instruction, but a scoffer does not listen to rebuke.”

He acknowledged that not all fatherly dynamics are cookie-cutter, and some people don’t have present fathers to even think of. But these biblical commands can apply to all relationships with men who have children, no matter our personal relationship to them.

Then he turned his full attention to the ladies in the room: “Ladies, wives, I’m going to be speaking mostly to you today. Please quiet your hearts and recieve what the Spirit might bring to your attention.”

He shared statistics that showed how over eighty percent of men don’t feel understood in their homes.

“Throughout my years in ministry, I have sat with countless men who feel unseen in their homes, like the only thing they are good for is the income they bring in. They feel unknown as a person, disrespected, and too timid to lead their families because you act as if you can just do it all better. In all truth, he sees and feels rejected every time you go behind him to correct him—be it as simple as cleaning the house or in parenting, when making decisions with the kids. Ladies, we need to talk about this.”

The air of the room froze. I could hear every breath and every shift in seat.

“You say you give him opportunities and then evaluate his every move. You go behind him and correct him in his words, thoughts, and actions. You critique his attempts at leading, which discourages the heart of a man. And you truly believe in your hearts that you could do it all better. Oh what deception. Oh what sin.”

It was ten minutes into service, and I was sweating. I could already hear the Spirit gently nudging me, telling me not to harden my heart or think I’m not one of those women. Listen, I heard Him say.

“God commands us to honor fathers, respect husbands, and allow them the grounds to be leaders. Now, I’m sure some of you are bucking up in your hearts, thinking, well, you just don’t know my husband. How do I respect someone who is lazy or rude or downright selfish?”

He exhaled and began again.

“To which I would say, just because he doesn’t understand the position he’s in, does that mean you get to undermine the authority of the Lord? You may not respect your husband’s character, but it is your obedience to God to respect his position. God is the one who allowed him to be there, as head of the home and the leader of it.”

No “Amens!” or “Mmhmms” were echoed in agreement. Every soul in the room sat silent.

“The role of men in the home, in communities, and in church is God-given. Now, don’t take this as a sexist stance as if I’m saying women are not equal image bearers of God and their only purpose is to live in the shadow of their husband. That’s not what I’m saying. Women are given both position and purpose in scripture, but your roles are distinguished apart from men’s. Because God designed us differently, our roles are different, and we can’t rightly know how to live if we don’t know what God’s design is. Turn to Titus chapter two with me.”

“Titus tells you what your character should look like, why? Look at the end of verse five: ‘…so that the word of God may not be reviled.’ If that doesn’t speak to the importance of your role as women, I don’t know what does. Your role allows people the opportunity to see and believe the word of God through your character. Your love for your husband and children, reverence, self-control, hard work, and kindness are a magnifying glass to the Spirit’s work within you. On the contrary, when you are disrespectful to your husband, gossip, abuse alcohol, and/or are lazy, your testimony is deeply affected. People see the gaping holes in what you say and how you live.”

Okay, Lord, I hear you, I said, still sweating in my church seat.

“Ladies, God’s word gives you positions and purposes, but when you attempt to usurp the authority of God by overstepping in your marriages, you remove the blessing of those roles for both you and your husband. We can only live in clarity when we live in God’s design, not our own. I will address the men in this room, as I often do, another day. I believe the Lord desired me to speak directly to you today.”

I knew in my heart that while I wasn’t the full list of negative character traits listed in Titus, I was struggling with a few of them, the biggest being self-control. The Lord was convicting me about how I was treating my husband at the end of long days at home. By 5:00, I was utterly exhausted. My husband would come home, and however excited I was to see him, the first words out of my mouth were often selfish and complaining. My husband would try to help with our toddler, but every time he offered or took over, I had some critique boiling behind the doors of my heart: She doesn’t like to play with that toy, she wants to sit up, she needs a snack, etc. The thoughts and comments were deteriorating both me and him.

My complaining about the hard parts of my day without even asking about his was downright selfish. I had been needy and emotional, not out of actual need, but out of a fleshly state of focusing only on myself. I was ashamed as I saw it so clearly in the light of our pastor’s words and my calling in Titus 2.

Oh Father, forgive me, I silently prayed.

“The beauty of the gospel isn’t merely found in our words of truth, but in our acts of love for one another. Act the gospel in your home. Your husband is your head, just as Christ is the head. Do you honor your husband the way you honor the church on Sunday mornings? Do you listen with intentionality, consider his comments, and allow him space to make decisions without speaking the way you would Christ? When you honor him as such, your home will begin to feel drastically different. He wont grow or change over night because he is human, but he will feel the impact of it. And any attempt he makes at leading, whether it’s a family decision, parenting decision, or dinner suggestion, recieve it without judging him. Obey the Bible and honor him. The original Hebrew word for honor is Kavod. It means ‘heavy’ or ‘weighty’. If the men in your life bear no significance or weight outside of their income, what they can do for you, or whether or not they fit your standards, you need to repent.”

This is where the conviction came full swing. I had been that nagging wife. I let my exhaustion dictate my attitude instead of the Spirit. I had critiqued him over things that were absolutely trivial. I should’ve been holding my tongue. I should’ve been sharing not just all of the tantrums my day held, but all of the snuggles and joys, too. I should have been thanking him for his contributions for our family. I should’ve been doing so many things that I wasn’t doing.

We got in the car after service and there was silence between us. I was overwhelmed with conviction.

“So, what did you you think of service?” My husband casually asked as we pulled out of the parking lot. The typical question we ask each other after a Sunday service.

The tears began to stream down my face. “I am so sorry,” I said.

He looked over at me, confused. I wanted to say, “Did you just hear what he said?” But I realized that he didn’t feel what I felt because the Spirit wasn’t convicting him, He was convicting me. We were hearing very different things in that sermon.

“I have been so many of those things that he talked about today. I have nagged you. I have complained so much. I have been ungrateful. I have been inconsiderate, and I am so so sorry. I haven’t been the wife God made me to be and I haven’t honored you as the leader of our home the way I ought. I want to blame it on the hardness of new parenthood, but it’s not that. It’s just simply selfishness. Please forgive me?”

It took him a few minutes to respond. I could see him processing. As I watched him, I realized how he had been quietly carrying so much pressure. 2025 was a hard year of marriage and adjusting to parenthood. The Lord was pruning us both so much, but on top of working full days and walking through his personal purification with the Lord, he was coming home to a crazy feral lady (me). I thought about who I’d been and wanted to hide under a rock. Geez, I wouldn’t want to come home to me, but he did. Every day.

“Thank you. I forgive you.” He said with tears in his eyes.

Over the following months, the Lord took me on a journey (and still is) of learning to be the woman and wife He created me to be. I’m learning not only what it means to give honor to the idea of the Titus 2 woman, but by becoming her, day by day, small decision after small decision. So much of the change that has taken place in my heart wasn’t from me trying harder or practicing better habits, it was rooted in repentance. Real true recognition that I had been missing the mark and not giving weight, or honor, to the sweet gift of a husband that David is.

My complaining was a problem in our marriage because it directly went against my identity as a daughter of God. As God taught me to control my mouth, even on those exhausting at-home days as a mom, I shined His light brighter and further than I even realized.

Philippians 2:14-15: ¹⁴ Do everything without complaining and arguing, ¹⁵ so that no one can criticize you. Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people.

Eventually, I will write a follow-up post walking through each characteristic in Titus 2: 3-5 that God has used to mold me as a wife, but for today, I’ll leave you with a brief glimpse into how God worked in my heart to be a happier, healthier, holier wife.

1. I started praying for my husband on my knees every day. Sometimes this was in the quiet of the early morning in our study/play room. Other times, it looked like rolling from my back to my knees in my bed, praying before my feet had even hit the floor.

2. I recognized when my exhaustion was leading me to want to act in my flesh and chose to practice self-control. I would feel my attitude well up in me, then I would pause, and be quiet for just even a few seconds. Those few seconds were the spaces where the battle happened. While my flesh was fighting within me to complain about something, the Spirit invited me into self-control, into rest, and into shalom with my husband.

3. I asked God to give me eyes to see my husband the way He does, to see the idea that He had when He made my husband. The Lord drew my eyes to see parts of him that are vastly different than me as beautiful. I see how his timidity softens my passionate spirit. His silliness lightens my hard days. His creativity and love for learning strengthens and challenges me. We make each other better when we love each other like Jesus does.

   If you relate to this in any way, please be encouraged that there is no better time to turn towards the Lord (and your spouse) than now. He is the Redeemer. No matter how many years of painful marriage have gone by, the process of forgiveness and reconciliation begin the moment we say, “yes!” to God’s ways.

   Peace to you and yours,

   Amber Lee Rabon 🌷

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   If this post resonated with you, you may like any of these:

   Biblical Wisdom I'm Learning in the Wilderness

   Microwave Sanctification: The Problem With Our Need for Fast Growth

   Four Things That Kept Me from Maturing in Christ (as someone who was raised in the church)

Hey friend! 😊Grab something to sip—preferably your favorite tea or coffee—and sit back as I take you on a tour of a few books in my home library.

It’s no secret that I’m a reader. Most writers are. For me, books have played many roles in my life. They have been an oasis, a hug, and sometimes a hard conversation with a spiritual mentor I’ll never meet. Much like gold, good words never lose their value.

In my passion to tell you of all God has done/is doing in my life, I’m starting a monthly series where I’ll share a different genre of books that have impacted me deeply in my walk with Jesus. My hope is that you are blessed by them as much as I’ve been. (I’ve already written one about the books that have helped me as a new mom. You can read it here: Early Motherhood Book Recs).

For today, I want to share with you some of the books that have helped me in mentally/emotionally hard seasons of my life. I titled this post mental and spiritual growth because I’ve seen in my life that my emotional health is often tied to my spiritual health. When I am struggling to read the word, pray, or live in the light of godly community, my mental and emotional health takes a toll. I can’t live outside of my identity as a new creation in Christ and expect to still be at peace because His peace is tied to my reliance on Him.

Beloved by God, we are not alone in our struggles, and I’m grateful for professionals who study the sciences and God’s word to help simple folk like myself see life with a deeper and wider perspective. But I can’t help but read these books and see that they all point the reader back to the Bible—back to God Himself. We can read all the topical books recommended to us, but if we read them by our own strength, we will fail because we cannot grow or experience the peace we desire apart from Him.

The common thread between these books is that they are more than self-help books. They are filled with truths that look closely at God’s design for His creation, and His redemptive hand at work amid our broken bodies. He is the one who Redeems, not our own striving efforts.

So my suggestion? Read them with God. Pray before, during, and after reading them because they are already pointing you in that direction anyway.

God is with us and has given us resources to help us. I pray these books help you to see that there is peace in trusting Him, hope in the promises of His word, and redemption in surrendering to His ways.

Blessings ☕

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1. Chasing Contentment: Trusting God in a Discontented Age by Erik Raymond

As the cover suggests, Erik takes the reader on a journey, exploring what the Bible says about contentment and what we were made for. The book is scripture-heavy, which is always a requirement of mine when reading topical books like these. He explores our human desires for satisfaction and points us to what God made us for as our field guide for true contentment.

Why it impacted me: I read this book during the peak of COVID, while trapped in my house, also going through a breakup (yikes). I was tired, restless, and missing teaching in person instead of online. Discontentment felt like my default setting some days, but this book gave me a new perspective on life, hope, and what it means to say, “it is well with my soul.”

Favorite Quote: “If you can trust God to take care of the biggest issues—sin and death—then you can trust him to take care of you in the secondary matters—everything else.”

2. Pursuing Health in an Anxious Age by Bob Cutillo MD

Bob sets up the main topic of the book (anxiety) by asking the question: What is health for? He looks at our physical, emotional, and spiritual health in both human terms, like how our healthcare system teaches us about our bodies and in Biblical terms, like how the Bible outlines God’s design for health. It’s a fascinating combination of practical and spiritual principles that help “set our eyes on things above, not on earthly things,” as Colossians 3:2 says.

Why it impacted me: I’m pretty sure this was another COVID read. The anxiety of life being altered as I knew it led me to fill my mind with truth. I needed an anchor in the waves of uncertainty. I knew the Bible spoke to anxiety (Philippians 4), but I also wanted to be a part of the bigger conversation happening in faith-based research. Research apart from biblical truths has a high capacity to mislead, so I’m grateful for Bob’s dedication to asking these big questions through a scriptural lens to help guide us who aren’t in those fields.

Favorite Quote: “When we don’t cling anxiously to life, we are freed to embrace it more fully…we learn to love it for what it is, caring for it fully, cherishing it truly, and suffering with it honestly.”

3. Untangling Emotions by J. Alasdair Groves & Winston T. Smith

I have so much I want to say about this book. If there is one book you purchase from this list, it’s this one! This is one of the most biblical, informative, and gentle books I’ve ever read about emotions. Both Groves and Smith are biblical counselors as well as authors, and their experiences with people influence many of the examples given. Like all of the other books mentioned, they explore emotions from a biblical lens. What are emotions? What are they for? How do we navigate them? They cover topics like understanding emotions, engaging emotions, and engaging hard emotions (anger, fear, lament etc.).

Why it impacted me: This book was transformational for me as I walked through an unexpected breakup—with someone who had an engagement ring tucked away and had asked my dad for his blessing. As you can imagine, I was feeling many emotions and didn’t quite understand how to navigate them in a godly way. This book opened my eyes to see the beautiful and potentially dangerous gift emotions are. They have so much purpose in our lives as we engage them with our Creator.

Favorite Quote: “Every feeling that turns towards God actually becomes part of our worship.”

4. Get Out of Your Head by Jennie Allan

This book is both spiritual and very practical. It’s full of steps and guides and charts that help give visual clarity to often vague ideas. Jennie begins the book with looking at the most common patterns of thought that leave us bound to fear, exhausted from shame, or are downright just selfish. She explores freedom through the practical application of mental discipline. Mental renewal, as Romans 12 says, doesn’t just happen from exposure to truth, but from consistently meditating and fixing our eyes on what is good and true and worthy of praise (Philippians 4).

Why it impacted me: I don’t remember when I first read this book, but it was also very impactful for how I engaged with my thought life. Up until I had read this book, I wasn’t fully aware of the importance of guarding my mind. Just because I’m saved by the loving grace of God, doesn’t mean my sin nature is dissipated. This book helped me see that with the truth of God’s word, the power of the Holy Spirit, and our commitment to honoring God with our minds, we can experience victory in our consuming thoughts, whether it be anxiety, fear, shame. We are so much more than what we think and feel.

Favorite Quote: “Be transformed by the renewal of your mind (Romans 12:2). This means it’s possible."

What’s a book that has impacted you in your walk with God, regarding mental health? 😊

~Amber Lee

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

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I recently saw a Substack note that said, “Don’t be someone who grew up in church but didn’t grow up in Christ.”

My gut reaction was an audible, “Oof.” When I shared it with my husband, he froze. “Whoah,” he said.

Why this reaction? Don’t people who grow up in church automatically possess more wisdom and maturity than those new to the faith? Not necessarily. Church attendance doesn’t guarantee spiritual growth because spiritual growth isn’t measured by the longevity of being around God’s people, but by the fruit of living as God’s people.

Many of us grow up in the church but never let the transforming seeds of God’s Word take root. We stumble, unable to move beyond the basics of the faith—or as Hebrews calls it, the spiritual milk of infancy.

Hebrews 5:12-14 “In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.”

I was raised in church—small churches, big churches, different denominations. I was always around the things of God. But it wasn’t until I was a late teenager that I realized that while I knew about God, I wasn’t surrendered to Him. (You can read more about the story here: My Testimony.)

Now, I’m in year eleven of my surrender to Jesus. I’ve been seeking the Lord, reading the Word, and trying to live according to His ways for over a decade. I’ve led Bible studies and community groups, and even observed seminary courses. Yet, amidst all this “doing,” there have been periods where my growth felt stagnant, and maturity blurred. Shouldn’t I be past this struggle by now? I would wonder.

What I didn’t realize then is that growth only happens when I faithfully obey God’s Word—in my actions, my heart, and my mind.

As I reflect on my life, there are a few things that have been stumbling blocks in my spiritual growth over the years. These things are personal to God’s work in my life, but I fear many of us fall into them without even knowing we’re there.

Friend, we cannot speed up our spiritual maturity, but we absolutely can slow it down. So read, relate, pray, and surrender to the good work of the Potter alongside me.

1. The Idol of Burnout

You might be thinking, Burnout? That keeps you from spiritual maturity?

But it’s not the burnout itself; it’s the mindset that comes with it, often hidden behind the guise of “servanthood.” In a past season of leading Bible studies, discipling women, and serving on Sundays—all while working full-time—I left zero room for rest, peace, or prioritizing my first ministry: my husband. Burnout convinced me I was working hard for the Kingdom while completely blinding me to the slow and intentional character of the King himself.

Overcommitting was my default setting for a long time. I’ve loved being part of what God is doing in others’ lives, but I’ve had to learn the hard way that there is a massive difference between being a servant of God versus being a servant for God.

• Servant for God is a state of striving, fueled by the fear that if I don’t help people grow, no one will. (Um, hello? That’s the Holy Spirit’s job).

• Servant of God is a place of peace, trusting and following the leading of the Spirit rather than the impulse of fear.

Stepping away from serving full-time forced me into a slowness and stillness that my soul desperately needed. It gave me space to actually hear the Spirit speaking rather than running on my own thoughts. I’m no longer striving for service, but quietly embracing what God brings my way, trusting His work and timing.

2. The “Biggest Fish in the Sea” Syndrome

During that season of burnout, I was co-leading a community group, which was a mixed bag of individuals: new believers who were hungry for the Word, and “long-timers” who seemed lukewarm, rarely reading Scripture or praying. A big contributing factor to my exhaustion was that our community group was mostly made up of our young adult peers and had no oversight or clear vision from church leadership at the time. This lent me and the other leaders to feel as if we were the most spiritually mature in the group.

But even then, I was still responsible for my heart attitude. And let me tell you, once the Spirit pulled curtain back, it wasn’t cute. I found myself tired, disappointed, and—if I’m honest—angry at the members who had excuses every week as to why they couldn’t spend time with God.

Then God put a specific scene from Moses’s journey in the wilderness on my heart. I grabbed my Bible, flipped through Numbers until I found it, and began reading.

After delivering the Israelites from Egypt, God had led His people into the wilderness, which magnified their need for food and water. It was a less than ideal circumstance, similar to where I found myself. Moses and Aaron were in charge of this large group of people who “should have” known God would provide because He had literally just parted the Red Sea for them to escape the rule of Pharaoh. But instead, they doubted and complained…a lot. When God told Moses to speak to the rock to bring forth water, Moses, tired and irritated at their lack of faith, slammed his staff against the rock.

In his anger, Moses misrepresented God to the people. He communicated that God was angry with them, when actually, God was ready to provide water. This was the incident that resulted in Moses being excluded from the Promised Land.

I cried when I read it. I was Moses. My exhaustion had led to unrighteous anger toward God’s sheep. I was judging them for their immaturity rather than loving them through it. Through time in the Word and in prayer, God reminded me that He is long-suffering and compassionate, not angry and irritable. So I humbled myself, repented, and asked God to give me His agape love for that group. The more time I spent focusing on the long-suffering nature of God, the more my love for every member of our community group grew.

The most refreshing truth when in a comes to serving in any capacity is that God is and always will be the biggest fish in the sea. Because of this, we can trust Him, rely on Him, and rest in Him.

3. Not Calling Sin “Sin”

We often think that once we’re saved, we stop sinning. But the present reality of our fallen nature is that our sin nature continues to creep up and try to be our compass in life.

My anger toward that small group was sin, not a watered-down label of “venting” or “righteous frustration.” It was sin that I had to take to the Lord and repent of. In that season, I was drawn towards the reminders that sin isn’t just behavior, but as Jesus tells us in Matthew 6, it can also be a lack of self-control in our thoughts and feelings.

Galatians 5:19-21

^“The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.”

God is serious about sin because it separates us from Him, and He wants us near. Sometimes it’s hard to call sin “sin” because it can bring about shame for our shortcomings, but the beauty of the gospel is that God is ready and willing to forgive us when we turn towards Him.

1 John 1:9-10 says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar, and his word is not in us.”

So, dear reader, not calling sin “sin” stunted my growth. I couldn’t grow spiritually until I had confessed what God deemed as an act of rebellion and surrendered to the compassion God wanted to give our community members through me. And the moment I did, the Spirit began softening my heart to be more loving like the Father.

4. Lack of Mental Discipline

Realizing my sin of anger ushered me into a deeper awareness of my mind. There were so many “little sins”—thoughts I dwelt on, resentments I nursed—that were stunting my spiritual growth.

Because God, out of His love for me, graciously revealed my rotten heart attitude, I now practice slowness and attentiveness to my inner monologue. I pay attention to the thoughts I entertain. I ask the Spirit to reveal areas I need to bring to the Lord and confess them, praying Psalm 139:23-24:

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

While on this journey with God, I began to see how both my flesh and the enemy are at work against me and my greatest temptations to sin always began in my mind. Verses about my mind and my ability to guard it started to jump off the page as I read scripture.

Romans 12:1: “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. ² Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

2 Corinthians 10:5: "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

The order of spiritual growth began to form in my mind more clearly. Humility leads to surrender, surrender leads to self-control, and self-control begets walking in the Spirit and not the flesh. It’s a roadmap to peace and protection. When we guard our minds with truth, we are much less likely to be deceived by own own understandings and rationalities. Don’t evaluate yourself in your own understanding. Ask the Spirit to search you and as He reveals shortcomings, turn to your loving and forgiving Father.

So, reader, friend, fellow beloved by God, I pray you learn from my stumbling and allow the truth of God’s word to lovingly purify your heart and mind.

I pray you reflect on your own life, and if any of these resonate with you, that you wouldn’t harden your heart or be ashamed, but humble yourself, repent, and submit your heart and mind to the authority of God’s word. That’s what it’s there for—to give us boundaries, direction, and purpose.

Spiritual maturity never just looks like more ministry; it always looks like more long-term fruit of the Spirit.

Stay tuned for a follow-up post next month about the five things that have helped me grow in my walk with God over the last ten years. 😊

~Amber Lee

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When I taught middle school English, I would have my students write their own versions of George Ella Lyon’s poem, “Where I’m From.” They practiced using figurative and descriptive language while thinking back on their lives. It was always one of my favorite tasks to assign because I got to see life through their eyes. So I thought I’d write my own version and share it with you.

This poem is woven with the threads of memories about the women who have impacted me most in my life. It’s a word-quilt of hard work, love, and God’s intentional work of redemption.

In A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf says, “We think back through our mothers if we are women.”

It’s true, I think, that every woman reflects on who mothered her. For some, it’s the lack of nurturing that stands out—the smell of cigarettes and the thundering of voices still echo in their mind from childhood. But for others, it’s the aroma of freshly-baked bread and the safety of the words, “I believe in you.” Our stories, like the stories of our mothers, are complex, but what is sure is that we are all mothered, and not just by our own.

Naturally, when reflecting, we first think of our biological mother, then any stepmothers, grandmothers, and women who have taken on that role in our lives. I have been mothered by all of the above: mother, stepmother, grandmothers, and mentor-mothers. Some who have mothered me, I have never met in person, as they guided me through their time-capsuled words bound in books, like Elizabeth Elliot.

As I opened the door to our catch-all study/play room to write this, I think back on these women.

Relationships are tender because our hearts are tender. All human relationships impact us deeply because God designed us to live in relationship with Him and others. We are hardwired for connection. But parental relationships bear a more specific tenderness. The way we are loved, or lack love from our parents, seems to impact us more than any other relationship.

With every memory of joy and laughter from my childhood, there are memories of deep pain and sadness. I never want to portray a false truth that I don’t bear scars from these wounds; however, they are just that—scars.

Wounds only fester if we repeatedly return to them. Every time we repeat a painful narrative of the hurt someone (intentionally or unintentionally) caused us, we peel back that wound again. Nasty image, I know, but it’s to the point: we hurt ourselves more than anyone else when we allow unforgiveness to fester in our hearts and minds.

When I sat down to write this poem, I had to wade through the memories of my childhood and choose to look for sweet moments as focal points. Years ago, I heard someone say, “Grace is getting a gift you don’t deserve. Mercy is not getting what you do deserve.” I thought this was true for a long time. But I recently did a deep dive into the Greek and Hebrew and was shocked at how far off I was in my understanding. Mercy is so much more than withholding wrath; it’s an active act of compassion towards another person in their misery. It moves towards someone stuck or suffering out of an overflow of care for their heart.

Since having my daughter, I see how complicated parenthood can be. It’s a roller coaster, a walk of faith, and sometimes a mere shot in the dark. There are tons of guidebooks on being parents, but no manual for being a parent to our specific children. I think of my own parents, and all of the women who tried to mother me through their own human struggles, and I have a lot of compassion for them.

When I’m old, I hope my daughter forgives me for my shortcomings instead of holding me hostage to them. What is a relationship if forgiveness doesn’t exist? Mercy is a choice, just as embitterment is a choice. So as I, as Woolf says, “think back on my mothers,” I write, not picking at old wounds, but with eyes of grace and mercy. I am grateful for the women who have shaped me and for God’s ever-present hand, molding and moving in all of our hearts.

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Where I’m From 

I am from cinnamon Altoids and my Grani’s green Firebird. From yearly sleepovers in Grant Land with mounds of Friendly's ice cream and trips to Andretti's. 

I am from jars of seashells and sea glass sitting around the house. From hand-picked produce growing in a small garden outside my mother’s window.

I am from the smells of homemade vinegar glass cleaner and fresh bread baking in the oven. From baby blue hydrangeas and sunflower buds sprouting after being sown in sorrow.

I am from Home Alone every Christmas with warm blankets and chicken pot pie. From “Work hard and be kind” and “Forgive me of my debts as I forgive those who trespass against me.” 

I am from waffles with peanut butter and early morning drop-offs from dad’s house back to mom’s house. From broken hearts and blended homes.

I am from sandy feet and sunburnt cheeks with an orangesicle in hand. From Sunday morning worship and car rides home from youth group, singing Like a G-6 at the top of our lungs.

I am from “When God closes a door, He is done with that thing. Even if that door opens later in life, it’s a new thing He’s doing.” From being called “bebe” by my Haitian church mom in my hometown, and random texts that remind me that God loves me.

I am from silent tears and prayers for strength in the darkness of the night. From “Please, God!” to “Praise you, God!” 

I am from coconut water and local honey at the farmers market. From wet burritos and sloppy joes and homemade carrot cake. 

I am from measuring dresses with fingertips, and being asked, “Do you always have to wear black?”

I am from bare feet in the grass and sun-kissed highlights in my hair. From “tell me the truth and you won’t get in trouble” to losing my purple iPod for a month because I spent too much money on music. 

I am from silence but sacrifice. From “I love you” and “I’m sorry.”  

I am from a small hospital in a small town. From one of six siblings in a blended family dynamic, and years of generational divorce trailing behind. 

I am from a small seed of faith planted in the heart of my praying great-grandmother, who spoke the name of Jesus in her home many years ago. From her waking up and reading God's word every day, believing He is the Messiah.

I am from the seed of faith planted in the heart of my mother, who spoke the name of Jesus in my home as a child. From sitting on the floor in her room as a six-year-old little girl, asking Jesus to come into my heart. 

I am from the slow, intentional, and beautiful work of God in generation after generation in my family. From a heritage of lost sheep slowly being carried into the safety of His kingdom. 

I am from the Holy Spirit, softening and sanctifying hearts year after year. From beautifully broken women who need Jesus every moment of every day, just like me. 

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

~Amber Lee Rabon

I pray this short post prompts you to think on Christ this season, no matter what it looks like.

Merry Christmas, friends!

🎄✝😊

~ Amber

I could tell you the Sunday school version of the story—Jesus was born in a manger and later died for the sins of the world.

Or I could dig into the theological implications of Christ’s life incarnate as the fulfillment of over 400 prophecies. I could tell you that in Isaiah 9:6, we hear one of these prophecies of Christ’s coming to earth and the Holy names He’d carry with Him:

“Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

I could tell you that in John 4, we see Jesus as the Wonderful Counselor when He reveals to a Samaritan woman His knowledge of the deepest needs of her heart. Offering her eternal water, He knew that all she longed for in life was to be satisfied, and each marriage she thought would provide it actually left her cast aside and feeling used. He drew her into His heart by seeing this need—a need that was probably tied to a lot of shame—and counseling her. He called out a lack of knowledge, saying that she “doesn’t know who she worships” and that “God must be worshiped in spirit and in truth” (22 and 24). He sees her, acknowledges her needs, and gives her direction.

I could further tell you of how He showed Himself as Mighty God when He rocked the world of a synagogue leader in Mark 5. Raising this man’s daughter from the dead, He prefaces this miracle by saying, “Do not be afraid, just believe” (36). He rid the room of all onlookers, pulling the parents into the moment—alone with Him and His disciples. He commanded her to rise and held back death not just from the little girl but from two grieving parents as well. He is Almighty God.

In this list of reasons why Jesus is a big deal, I’d probably include the moment in John 14:10 where Jesus says, “He who has seen me has seen the Father.” Then I’d follow up with the moment Thomas sees the holes in Christ’s hands and exclaims, “My Lord and My God!” This Everlasting Father—gentle to Thomas in his doubt—conquered death so we can face it with courage.

Finally, I’d speak to the Prince of Peace that lives so trusted in His Father that a bad storm on a boat didn’t even faze Him. “Quiet! Be Still!” He commanded the seas, as He commanded the hearts of a few humble fisherman to belief. Oh what Peace He brings.

But what’s more, is this Jesus is a big deal to me.

Hi, yes, me :)

He’s a big deal to little eight-year-old Amber who watched her family split apart when her parents divorced. A big deal because even then, when a sad little girl was drawing pictures of her holding Jesus’ hand in her sparkly blue and green notebook, praying this Prince of Peace would fix her family, He was near.

He’s a big deal to the rebellious teenage Amber who put purple streaks in her hair, snuck out, and dated someone behind her parent’s backs because she didn’t understand who this Everlasting Father was yet.

He’s most important to young adult Amber where He revealed Himself to be my Wonderful Counselor. He showed me my most desperate places in need of satisfying—as He did with the Samaritan woman. He pursued my heart through mistakes and breakups and friendships—touching every place of pain, broken feeling, pride, selfishness, and sorrow. He has commanded the surrender of my heart to live in His Peace and serve Him—my Might God.

Dear Reader, He is important because He is my Jesus—the one who’s always been here.

He is a huge deal because we knew, even in Isaiah 61:1-3, that Jesus’ coming was to do these things:

• bring good news to the poor

• bind up the brokenhearted

• proclaim freedom for captives release from darkness

• comfort

• give a crown of beauty instead of ashes

• joy for mourning

• praise for the spirit of heaviness

Trust Him when He tells you who He is. Trust Him when He shows you who He is. He has come so that we may live, and by golly, life in Him is good.

Christ is a big deal at Christmas because it is simply a reminder that Christ put on human skin to be near to us. And because of that, there is deeper satisfaction in this life because of Him. There is life after death because of Him. There is comfort and peace and purpose and redemption because of Him. He takes our distance and draws us near.

So be reminded that Jesus Christ was born for you!

Take some time this Christmas and reflect:

• Who is Jesus to you?

• Why is He/isn’t He a big deal to you?

• What do you think it means that Jesus came to earth in the form of a little baby?

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

Whatever is true,

Whatever is pure,

Whatever is honorable ✨

-Amber Lee Rabon

I’ve recently noticed an uptick in ‘How-to’ and ‘Ten-steps to’ styled posts on Substack. Whether it’s ‘How to Steward Your Marriage With Faith’ or ‘Ten Steps to Good Habits in Your Family,’ these kinds of posts aim at creating what I call pillars in the home—the daily actions that support us in living out faithfulness to Jesus.

The problem? We want our growth like a microwave dinner—fast. Maybe it’s the impending new year, a genuine desire for closeness with God, or maybe it’s our souls quietly hoping that at some point we will just be enough.

Forcing Growth Forfeits Grace

Our modern society, and even the church, applaud achievement and goal-setting. I often see people listing off nearly ten things they want to become or achieve in their self-growth, marriages, and parenting. A younger and ambitious Amber would have probably made such lists, too. But now? The thought of trying to achieve anything outside my day-to-day realities of raising my toddler makes my heart palpitate and my back ache.

I think we tend to gravitate towards lists and how-to guides because they make us feel like we are somewhat in control. If we strive to please God and live with excellence, then God must be exceptionally proud of us.

But what we miss completely is that God doesn’t love us because of what we do but who we are—His handcrafted creation.

Romans 5:8 “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

God moved toward us, through Christ, out of love, not because of our good behavior and pursuit of spiritual growth. But I understand the wrestle that sometimes God’s grace feels too good to be true. How could Jesus’s death really be the only price needed for our sins? There really isn’t anything we have to do to earn salvation but repent and believe? The simple answer is no. Ephesians tells us salvation is a free gift from God so that no one can boast.

Reader, friend, we will never ever be enough, but we have a sacrificed Savior who always is. Jesus paid the only cost, and now we can live loved by Him, following Him, free from the pressure-filled ideologies that tell us God only loves us if we are good enough.

Obedience Over Sacrifice

When I think of the pressures we face today to speed up spiritual maturity, I think of God’s correction to Saul in 1 Samuel 15:22. Saul was ordered to destroy everything of the Amalekites, but he disobeyed, keeping the best livestock to sacrifice to God. So God used Samuel to confront him:

1 Samuel 15:22 “Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams.”

The Lord doesn’t care for our offerings of trying to be better in ten steps because God cares about heart transformation, not behavior modification.

Asking intentional questions and writing out our next steps in our walks with Jesus isn’t wrong. In fact, there’s so much benefit in thinking through them, because our lives should reflect our relationship with Jesus. But maybe we are trying to force the Spirit to produce fruit in us that only slow, daily obedience can bring about. What if instead of lists, we committed scripture to memory and chose to obey it out of faith that God is making us more like Jesus? That is exactly what Jesus prays to the Father for us before going to the cross.

John 17:17

“sanctify them by your truth. Your word is truth.”

Only then we will see the spiritual growth we desire.

What Really Builds a Home

Growing up, I struggled with the idea of “home” because of the tension surrounding my parents’ divorce, but I believe my parents tried to make their houses homes. I think of the simple, consistent presence of love and community: the kitchen island for pre-dinner talks and the Friday pizza and game nights where all our friends would come over and we’d play Just Dance like it was the Christian homeschool way of being at the club.

Life wasn’t always easy. Our family name didn’t carry any special meaning in our town. But God still did a slow, good work in my family, despite hardship. What made those memories rich wasn’t a ten-point family mission statement; it was the simple, consistent presence of love and faith that God is who He says He is.

Family and home dynamics are all different, and I have so much compassion for those who end up in seasons they never imagined, like divorce or widowhood. So staying close to God’s word and being flexible to the Spirit’s leading is the best pillar of any home.

A few days ago, I had a friend (a woman full of godly wisdom), tell me that the only pillar that really exists in their home is the adoration of God before anything else. That means time in God’s word, time in fellowship, and time in Sunday worship are the most important things they do in their week.

I don’t know about you, but any time I set off to fulfill long lists of resolutions and goals, I very quickly burn out and forget what I set out to do in the first place. That’s because producing spiritual fruit comes from the Holy Spirit, not our crafty efforts. Our job is surrender and obedience, which flow naturally out of worshipping God. I have those three words written on the first page of my Bible as a reminder—surrender, obey, worship.

So friend, can I take a weight off your shoulders? Simply obey Jesus; the rest will come. Know the Word. Obey the Word, and the good work He began in you, He will complete. You don’t have to strive for growth but surrender to work God is already doing in you. And I promise, your life will be transformed as your heart and mind are renewed with Truth.

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

~Amber Lee Rabon

A few months ago, when I received a call telling me that a family friend was in a terrible accident and didn’t make it, I knew there was a widow left alone in her home. When another text read, “Grandpa may not last long. You might want to drive down,” another widow was soon to follow. Little did I know I would be present in the hospital room when he passed. Weeks later, a third call told me that a pastor, mentor, and friend had a heat stroke and was found in his car. Yet again, a third widow I carry in my heart and prayers.

The sorrow was consuming. Time blurred, and sound was muffled by the dull ache pounding in my chest. I had no words. It felt like there were no words that would be valuable to such pain. But shouldn't there be? I’m a Christian. I ought to have answers and be a support to others. I ought to know exactly how to help the budding theology of my non-believing friends when tragedy rips life from our very arms. We feel like there have to be words. Yet, sometimes words spoken too soon—even with the best intention—fall flat when a mother holds her baby for the last time.

I know God works all things for our good and His glory for those who are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). I know I am never alone, and the Holy Spirit comforts me so that I can go and comfort others (2 Corinthians 1:4). I know that Jesus conquered death, which gives strength to me as I face it (1 Corinthians 15:55-57). But sometimes that knowledge still doesn’t take away the sharp chest pains that remind me that what was once is now gone.

The Christian has a unique place in the world. We have a deep awareness that there is life after death for those who have surrendered their lives to Jesus. And for every story of grief and loss where death’s ugly hand takes a life too early, there are other stories of healings, recoveries, and reconciliations. Jesus didn’t stay dead, and that bears much weight.

But this is the tension of the Christian life: our eyes are open—wide open—to the dual reality that death is not the end for those in Christ, but death is still inevitable and can feel unfair, even wrong. We feel this tension in our bones as our very spirits cry out, “Maranatha! Come quickly, O God.”

A week after my grandfather passed, I sat in my living room while my daughter was taking her nap, and sobbed. Hot, wet tears puddled in my hands as my spirit and human flesh were trying to merge this experience of seeing death up close. My mind went back to that hospital room and how even amidst the sounds of sobs and sniffles, the voice of the Holy Spirit was so clear to me. I thought about how we only made it to the hospital roughly ten minutes before he passed, and as I stood by his side, I heard the Lord tell me to read from Isaiah. I was so nervous, as the room was bustling and beeping, but I knew God wanted me to read, whether for him or someone else in the room. I turned to the book of Isaiah, grabbed my grandfather’s hand, and read these words:

The night he passed, I went home a changed person. Yes, because of losing someone I loved unexpectedly, but also because of who I saw God be in the face of death. The Spirit of the Lord, dwelling in me, compelled me to read words of love in one of the hardest moments of life. I couldn’t deny the voice of the Spirit, telling me to read this specific passage. Our Creator, God, is always moving towards us, even up to our very last breath—what great love this is.

In the months following his passing, I spent a lot of time meditating on John 11. When Martha lost her brother, Lazarus, and heard that Jesus was approaching their house, she ran out to meet him. She saw Him, four days after her brother had already passed, and came bearing her heart to him. Her words weren’t praise; they weren’t thanksgiving for the sufferings, but close to an accusation. She says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Later in the story, Jesus looked around at the hurting people, moved with grief, and wept. He wept hard. But Jesus didn’t just weep. He pursued the deepest part of Martha’s heart in the face of tragedy and prompted her to believe in Him. He tells her:

“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet he shall live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” Then He beckons her heart further by asking, "Do you believe this?”

I’ve often heard this passage taught with a focus on Lazarus, but this window into Jesus’s relationship with Martha is a delicate moment. It’s the moment where Martha moves from seeing Jesus as the Messiah to her Messiah. And what’s beautiful is that Jesus reveals Himself to be her personal Messiah before the miracle even occurred. He doesn’t try a gimmick trick by performing the miracle and then begging her to believe He’s God. He simply tells her who He is, then gives space for the truth to impact her heart by raising Lazarus from the dead.

Who she believed Him to be is far more important to Jesus than what He could do for her. Sometimes the miracles don’t come, but the Resurrected King does, and it’s in that quiet space that feels like absence is where His presence is most tangible.

What may have felt late to Martha was divinely intentional timing for Martha’s heart and mind to be transformed. Jesus became the one who could change not just her eternity but her hope and perspective when faced with future tragedy.

Jesus’s timing was and always is perfect. He is always moving towards us, especially when we are grieving. Grief demands to be felt, and tears must be shed. Jesus didn’t stop anyone from crying or try to cheer them up in the midst of it. All He did was draw a single heart to deeper personal trust in Him. And the same God who stood face-to-face with Martha, drawing her heart to deeper trust, is the same God who used the Spirit in me to draw the heart of my grandfather to Him in his last moments.

So are words needed when faced with loss? How does the Christian balance the tension of life and death and eternity? I think of Paul’s exhortation to use words to embrace grief and not fear it.

The Coming of the Lord

13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. 14 For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. 15 For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. 16 For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. 18 Therefore encourage one another with these words.

For those who are in Jesus, there are words to turn to—reminders that those who have passed are merely asleep, waiting for Jesus to call them back to life with Him. And when faced with grief over those who are not in Jesus, there is the truth of the gospel waiting to be given to those still alive. Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of God (Romans 10:17). But maybe all that’s needed in a moment is the ministry of presence—sitting, listening, and allowing space for the Lord to speak to aching hearts, just as He did with Martha.

Sometimes we’re prompted by the Spirit to speak into grief. Other times, we feel we ought to speak but the words don’t come, and that’s where we can find rest in the hope that God will move in our hearts, in His time. Even when we don’t know what to say, He does.

However the Spirit leads us to navigate grief, with or without words, the hope still stands that God is the God who weeps with us and the God who speaks to us. The very passage in Isaiah that God led me to read to my grandfather in that hospital room is also for you, dear reader, as it is for me. Our Creator God is ever moving towards us, drawing our hearts towards Him because He loves us and wants us with Him for all eternity.

~Amber Lee Rabon

“Some books are so familiar that reading them is like being home again.”

Louisa May Alcott

Propped up on my couch, homemade blueberry and vanilla iced coffee in hand, let’s have a chat about the books that have deeply impacted my mothering.

If you’ve been around for a while, you know the Bible is my home base for any and everything, and the Holy Spirit is my faithful companion. Jesus tells us to ask, seek, and knock, and He will answer us. As we come to Him in our mothering, He answers and teaches us how to live in this wildly beautiful role.

But I also believe God has given us people—specifically older and more experienced people—to recycle wisdom for other generations (like myself) to learn. I have found much wisdom, mentorship, and guidance from many books, but narrowed down a few that have, as Alcott says, felt like returning home. They have been silent coffee dates with moms I may never meet on this side of heaven, who met me in my early morning or late night search for godly perspective. They have been answers to questions I didn’t even have the words to ask and a warm hug, reminding me that I’m not a complete and utter failure. They have clarified, convicted, and comforted me in my journey of mamahood.

If I could hug and hang out with each of these women, I would. I hope you give them a read and find blessing in them.

Enjoy! ☕

1. Risen Motherhood by Emily Jensen and Laura Wifler

Risen Motherhood covers a wide variety of topics: our heart attitudes, our birth experiences, our food choices, our schooling choices, our self-care, our fears, and so on. The structure of the book mirrors the gospel narrative of Creation (what God originally intended), Fall (how sin has impacted it), and Redemption (how Jesus’s finished work on the cross transforms that area of life).

This book helped calm many new mama nerves and answer practical questions with gospel truths. It felt like every time I hit a new stage of mamahood (whether faced with fears or questions about the future), each next chapter grounded my heart and mind in the gospel. This structure ensures that every topic is anchored not in current trends, but in the timeless truth of gospel redemption.

Favorite Quote:

• “Our mothering should point our husbands, children, churches, and communities toward knowing and loving the same gospel we do.”

2. Surprised by Motherhood by Lisa-Jo Baker

Lisa-Jo writes with the wisdom of experience and the heart of a fun aunt or older sister. Her strong storytelling pulls you into her wrestling with not desiring to become a mom, and then later getting married and having three children. The book is a collection of personal reflections, offering an open door to every woman who has wrestled in womanhood and motherhood. She writes with grace about her struggles growing up without her mom, who passed when Lisa was eighteen. She shares that her mother wasn’t a strong motherly figure in her time on earth, but that she loved her and sought God’s presence in each moment where a female role model was lacking.

This book helped me come to terms with realizing that I am no longer the same person I was before having kids, and that’s okay. She helped me see that being a mother means morphing, growing, and changing in every area of my life. She reminded me that it’s okay if I don’t “fit the mold” because there isn’t actually a mold anyway. God made me uniquely for Him, my husband, and my daughter.

Favorite Quote:

• “The only way through is through.”

3. Hard Is Not the Same Thing as Bad by Abbie Halberstadt

This is one of my all-time favorite reads since becoming a mom. Abbie’s writing is full of life, love, and strong southern charm. She writes with the Bible as her foundation, referencing many scriptures and their contexts to help us see what God intends for Christian moms. Abbie has ten children and multiple sets of twins, so she understands the “hard” that a lot of moms feel. However, she digs deeper into the truth that God, in fact, calls us to hard things, and it is in those spaces that we grow in our faith.

This book was like holding up a mirror to all of my fleshly responses to motherhood. It was a pruning read as I was faced with the truth that every hard moment of parenthood (tantrums, sleepless nights, picky eaters) is a space for me to be more like Jesus.

Favorite Quote:

• “It is our very obsession with ease that leads us to self-sabotage.”

4. M Is for Mama (also by Abbie Halberstadt)

Abbie’s books are not for the faint of heart, but not because she is mean or harsh. Abbie is committed to the Bible, the only truth, which can cut through our B.S. (aka. Baloney Sandwiches or lame excuses for sin in our mothering😉). M Is for Mama breaks down many of these excuses for mediocre mothering and presents a sometimes harder but always more rewarding alternative: obeying the Bible.

As a new mom, Abbie’s books challenge me to hold my motherhood up not to the world, not to my feelings, but to the Bible alone. I didn’t realize how I had allowed my negative emotions of mom exhaustion to become an excuse for complaining in my home. I was deeply convicted of this while reading this book, and let me tell you, I guard my mouth with greater gratitude now. Abbie’s books are like sitting down with a mentor who you know is going to cut straight to the point. It’s hard for a brief moment, but you walk away feeling more loved and more free than before.

Favorite Quote:

• “I get asked all the time online by fellow mamas how I “make time for myself,” how I keep from “losing myself” to motherhood, how I “cope with the overwhelm.” Often my answers are purely pragmatic: getting enough sleep, saying no to unnecessary distractions, spending time in God’s Word and prayer.”

A common theme throughout all of these books is the contrast of the wisdom of the world versus the wisdom of scripture. Each author portrays their different wrestling with choosing to ignore the pressure of society, the top fads and trends, and even their own selfish desires to be the moms that God made them to be. None of these books denies the hardships of mothering, nor do they say it’s only rainbows and butterflies. These authors are real mothers, seeking to live faithful lives unto Jesus, their Lord.

In a world constantly pushing the wisdom of self-help and trends, these authors challenge us to hold our mothering up to the Bible alone. They offer the only truly satisfying solution to mamahood problems: a life rooted in closeness with God and knowledge of His Word. I hope these books feel like coming home to you, too. 🤍

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

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~ Amber Lee Rabon

“Oh girl, you just need to love yourself more than anyone else does so that your cup is full. When we don’t love ourselves first, we’re pouring from empty cups.”

I overheard two ladies chatting in the grocery store about their tiredness of being needed so often, and in so many ways, I related. Part of me wanted to say, “Girl, I’m tired of being needed 24/7 sometimes, too. You’re not crazy. You’re not alone.”

But my heart ached at hearing them encourage each other to build a kingdom that would eventually crumble. I held back the urge to jump into their conversation and offer an alternative: what about being so deeply loved by God that His love pours into you, fills you to overflowing, so that you can pour out onto those around you? Your cup wouldn’t be empty because your Creator, God, is ever empowering you by His Spirit.

Self-love—the idea that I am the most important character in my life story—is dangerous. Once we enter the world of allowing our thoughts and feelings to be the compass of our lives, we have made ourselves our own gods.

In the Bible, God consistently communicates His concern for the state of the human heart. In Matthew 6, Jesus reveals an intimate part of God’s design for us as humans by telling us that our hearts are treasure chests. What we love deeply affects how we live, and how we live speaks of what has true lordship over our lives.

This concept of the heart as a treasure chest is illustrated in Matthew 19, the story of the rich young ruler. While spending time with Jesus in the early morning quiet, God brought this story to mind as I wrestled with the concept of self-love.

As I read through the narrative, I realized the young ruler was asking a question that revealed his lack of spiritual rest. He comes up to Jesus and asks, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” (Matthew 19:16).

Jesus goes along with his question about good deeds and tells him he must keep the commandments. The young fellow evaluates his life in the presence of Jesus and says that he does all Jesus has required: honors his father and mother, hasn’t murdered, hasn’t committed adultery, hasn’t stolen, and so on. He had everything and seemingly did all of the “right” things, yet he still wasn’t soul-satisfied. He was missing True Life.

Jesus doesn’t say, “Look inward and love yourself more. Take care of yourself because you’re burned out on life. That will fill you and give you the life you need.” Jesus, knowing his heart, knew what the young ruler was bound to and asked him to give that thing up—his resources.

But here’s the funny thing: giving up his resources wasn’t actually the thing that was going to give the rich young ruler eternal life. Eternal life only comes through repentance and faith in Christ as his Savior:

• John 3:16: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life”

• 1 John 5:11-12: “And this is the testimony, that God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life”

• Acts 2:38: “Peter replied, ‘Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

• Matthew 4:17: “From that time on Jesus began to preach, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.

So why did Jesus ask him to give up all he had? Because for the young guy, his money was his treasure. His heart was tied to what he had, and it was the spiritual blockage that kept him from surrendering to Jesus, just as self-love can be our blockage today.

When Jesus calls a person into deeper spiritual growth, He calls them to surrender all they are and have, and seek others’ needs as more important than their own. The commands in the Epistles—like Ephesians and Philippians—that are centered on the Christian’s identity are not self-preserving mantras, but commands to give of ourselves for the welfare of others.

What does all of this have to do with self-love?

In our American society that praises the Self (self-growth, self-accomplishment, self-love), it all comes from desiring a deeper sense of fulfillment. We want to feel affirmed, safe, confident, and at rest. But loving ourselves isn’t rest; it’s a trap woven from the very nature of sin, echoing the fall of Satan himself. When Satan fell from heaven, his demise was himself. He wanted power and glory and loved himself more than he loved God. The very nature of Satan’s evil is the refusal to submit oneself in humility to the commands of the Almighty.

Reader, friends, Christians, self-love is not from God.

If Christ Himself came to serve and not be served (Matt 20:28), why would He want us to do the exact opposite? Jesus came to save us from sin, some of which is selfishness, not to give us better feelings about ourselves.

When we believe the lie that our best spiritual growth can only happen when we are rested, when our schedules are under control, and when our homes are clean, we miss out on true life. My hand is raised as guilty of falling prey to this way of thinking.

Jesus tells us that the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure, hidden in a field, that when discovered, a person sells all they have to buy that one field. Following Jesus compels us to give.

I think we often listen to the self-preserving chants of society, like the young ruler, and think that God can’t actually ask us to give so much of our time, money, or energy. We are so comfortable with the comfortable that if it’s uncomfortable, we assume it can’t be the Lord. But why not? Saving us from my sins wasn’t convenient for Jesus. The cross cost Jesus His life. So the reality is that loving others more than ourselves is inconvenient and will cost us something. But following Him and choosing His way will cost us the wrong treasures in exchange for the richest and truest and most satisfying treasure—living loved by God and being a part of loving others.

Satisfaction doesn’t come from just another spa day, even though those are fabulous. It comes from surrendering to Jesus. It comes from serving, like our Savior. It comes from the promise that the Spirit of the Living God will become peace in us like a fountain, not just spouting water, but overflowing with it.

I can tell you from experience that trying to “love myself” into a fuller cup actually leaves me crankier and more selfish. The only thing that fills my cup is the truth that Jesus loves me so much that He willingly poured Himself out on the cross for me and then gave me His Spirit—more of Himself.

Friend, if you’ve found yourself believing the lie that loving yourself is what’s going to fill your spiritual cup, repent and thank God that He already loves you more than you can imagine.

Maybe what we need isn’t a trip to the beach or alone time. Maybe it’s giving of ourselves —money, time, energy—just as our Father does with us.

Extend the Love That Fills You

Here are some ideas to extend the love that already fills you to those around you:

• Give someone who has young children a free date night by watching their kids.

• Make a home-cooked meal and drop it off at someone’s house whom the Spirit tells you could need it.

• Write some handwritten notes to people you love and bless them with encouragement.

• Be slow to speak and quick to listen when your spouse hits a nerve.

In our world that is screaming the very message of Satan, to love ourselves more, I pray Jesus, the sacrificed Lamb of God, cleanses us of this disease so that we can enjoy the deep well of satisfaction of living for His kingdom and not our own.

But first, go to Him, talk with Him, allow His Word and Spirit to be your guide, and find freedom in Christ’s self-forgetfulness.

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

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~ Amber Lee Rabon ~

I’ve heard so many well-meaning people say with pure kindness and joy, “Get married, have babies!”

But what they don’t say is that pregnancy and birth are the most fragile and tender times in a woman’s life. Whether you’ve been trying for two months or two years, the sadness of a negative test can feel like a personal rejection letter from God.

We had peace, and didn’t God give me this desire to be a mom to multiple children? Wouldn’t that mean He would open my womb? What do we do when God says no or not yet, but we took steps in faith? Is this a test that I have to pass? Does God desire to bless me as His daughter without me earning it?

This past month, I finally broke down to my husband with these questions. Funny how seemingly practical moments, like taking a pregnancy test, can become deeply personal conversations with my Creator. Walking into the bathroom to take a test every month has taken deep breaths and repeated reminders that God loves me, is for me, and isn’t trying to trick me.

But again, I am faced with the wrestling as only one red line appears on the test, revealing an unchangeable reality—I’m not pregnant. Maybe it’s the nature of tests that makes it more painful, feeling like each result is a pass or fail, when really it’s just a hormonal fact that a baby is not tucked away in my womb. As I write this, menstrual cramps take over my abdomen, sending piercing pains down my legs, reminding me that yet again, my womb is in fact empty.

I didn’t always have peace about trying for baby number two. There was a time when I questioned my ability to handle my emerging toddler, but then came the peace. First for me, then my husband.

“I think it’s time,” I said to him. “I feel it, too,” he said back.

And yet, here we are, months into it, and still getting negative tests. You may be thinking: it usually takes a while for most people to get pregnant. Give it time, you also might add. Or you may be tempted to think that my body wash or hairspray could be making me infertile with toxins. But reader-friend, I know it is God alone who opens and closes the womb. So I am faced with a dilemma: how do I surrender to God’s timing when my feelings don’t align with it?

Last Sunday, at the first hint of cool weather in Florida, God woke me up early, and I knew I needed to get alone with Him. My heart was aching, but I was trying to play it “Christian” cool and say, “I trust the Lord’s timing!” Which is true—I do trust His timing—but that doesn’t mean I’m not sad about it. It doesn’t mean my desire to bear children just washes away because it hasn’t happened yet. For many women who desire motherhood but haven’t gotten pregnant yet, they bear children in their bodies through love and desire, even if their womb remains empty. I desire to raise a bushel of children and train them up in the heritage of the Lord, and I’m confused and sad that it hasn’t happened yet, especially because we thought we had the green light of peace.

I’ve heard many Christians say, ‘God leads with peace.” But does God’s peace always mean a yes? I’m not sure it does. I understand what they are getting at when people say this—God is not a God of disunity or disorder, and any such things are not coming from Him. However, there are many realities where Christians find themselves lacking peace but are smack dab in the middle of God’s will for their lives. So when my feelings don’t align with who the Bible tells me God is and my peace seems shaken by my experiences, I know it’s time I search the scriptures and remind my heart of what is true. Because when I grab my Bible and meet with God, I’m not conversing with a textbook. I’m not casting my cares into the wind. I’m taking them to a person.

Since experiencing a cult-like ministry in 2017, I hold fast to a very real truth—God is not like man, and God is not like what I feel. When I experienced spiritual abuse from a leader in the ministry, the Lord, by the power of His Spirit and the knowledge I had of His Word, kept me from the lie that God was like that man. So when I’m faced with experiences that don’t match who I know God to be, I run to His Word and search for Him to show me what He is actually like. I renew my mind with truth, like Romans 12:2 calls me to.

So I grabbed my Bible, a journal, and sat on our porch with a hot cup of coffee. Immediately, the tears fell. I knew the Holy Spirit was telling me to come, to bring my whole heart to my Heavenly Father, and that He does, indeed, love me. I knew it before my fingers even cracked open the pages of His Word.

My mind went to all of the aching wombs before me—Sarai, Hagar, Hannah, Leah, and Rachel, to name a few. I wanted to know who God revealed Himself to be to them in their differing griefs, and let me tell you, many things stood out to me, but to keep this brief, here’s a summary of how God showed up to each woman:

• In the story of Sarai and Hagar, God sees Hagar’s grief over being mistreated and pursues her. He doesn’t ignore her tears or wait for her to come to Him. He meets her where she’s at and addresses her amidst her suffering (Genesis 16:11).

• Hannah wept bitterly before the Lord in grief over her empty womb, begging God to hear her, and He does. The extent of her grief shows that she had probably been trying for a long time and was feeling utterly defeated. God not only sees but listens to Hannah, recalls her prayers personally to mind, and gives what is asked (1 Samuel 1:19).

• To Leah and Rachel, the rival sisters who both wanted the honor of bearing Jacob a child, God again sees, listens, and remembers their prayers, then gives what is being asked (Genesis 30:17, 22).

His ear is attentive, His eyes open, and we are on His mind. He listens and remembers what we pray, and even though He may not give us what we ask for right away, He is still near in each tear-filled moment of our humble asking, ‘Please, God.’

After meditating on these passages, I wrote down these truths of how my Creator God and Heavenly Father relate to me in my grief:

• God sees me

• God remembers me

• God cares about the aches of my heart

• God may listen to me and grant my request

• God is very near to me

Thank you for being with me, God, was the simple prayer that overflowed from my time in the Word. As I sat with the character of God, with His attentive ear and responsive heart, I realized that I had not been engaging with God personally about my desire for a second child. I knew God was with me, my husband and I have been praying for a baby in God’s time, but I had not come out right and asked this of Him. I had not taken my whole heart to God about the matter as Hannah, Leah, and Rachel had. So in the stillness of the morning dew, our neighbor’s birds chirping and the rooster across the street singing its sunrise song, I asked God to open my womb.

Later that morning, during worship at church, they sang the song “Make Room” by Community Music. The chorus of the song says: I will make room for you, to do whatever you want to. And as I sang these words, I thought of Job. When Job’s wife tempts him to turn his back on God because God allowed suffering in their lives, Job righteously says to her, “Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?” (Job 2:10). So another prayer rose from my heart: Father, help me accept all things from your hand as means of your will and to know the greatest gift you have given me is salvation and your presence.

I went about my day, abdomen still aching, but knowing that the next time I go to take another pregnancy test, He is with me. I can rightly say that I trust that the result isn’t a test of faith, it isn’t a trick of divine wrath, and it also isn’t a foundational experience that tells me what God is like towards me—only His word can do that. I may have anxiety this time next month, but I know I’m not alone. Though the earth may try to convince me that God doesn’t love me, just as Job’s wife tried with him, my hope is in God’s Word and who He reveals Himself to be, which is seeing, caring, listening, and remembering. His goodness isn’t a matter of giving me what I want when I want it, but His listening ear towards my cries as a true Father is attentive to His child. He is with me in that bathroom, holding my heart when I take that test.

To all the tears shed behind closed doors,

You are seen

You are heard

You are remembered

You are not alone🤍

~Amber Lee Rabon

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

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Mornings are the softest and slowest part of the day (most of the time). The song Joy in the Morning by Tauren Wells pulls me from my sleep between 5:30 and 6:00 AM. Waking to music is far kinder on my nervous system than loud beeping noises.

I am slow to rise, but when I do, I embrace the rising sunlight with my fresh bed-head clipped back, moist under-eye patches on, and a pair of fuzzy slippers beneath my feet. It wasn’t until a year post-partum that I even considered waking up early again. Now, it’s my favorite time of the day.

I shuffle to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. After a few clinking noises of plastic and metal meeting, my favorite drink pours into my cup. I breathe in the nutty aroma before I add half and half (or my favorite seasonal creamer). Then head to our office/art/play room, where I keep the pink velvet chair I bought at an estate sale for $25. It’s one of my favorite places.

This is where I meet with Jesus every morning.

I read a few chapters in whatever book of the Bible I’m working through—currently, it’s John—as I pray, read, meditate, and journal. I make note of any direct commands given to followers of Jesus, or about aspects of His character that stand out to me. Then I slide off my cozy chair and lie on the floor. The carpet is fuzzy beneath me, but the air is cold, so I wrap a blanket around my shoulders. My arms are extended out and my palms are open, upward.

A rooster crows across the street as I think about the throne of grace I’m coming to in this quiet space—just me and the Father.

The Spirit leads me to pray.
I pray for my family.
I pray for my friends.
I pray for those who don’t yet love Jesus, and those who do.
I pray for my husband, my daughter, and myself.

Tears are usually shed here because I am safe here.

By 7:00–7:30 AM, I hear my daughter rustling around in her bed. She’s playing with her strawberry Squishmallow and her favorite pink teddy.

I walk in and sing her our morning song as I turn off the sound machine and pull back her floral curtains:

“Good morning to you, good morning to you,
I’m happy to see you, good morning to you.
I love you so much, I love you so much,
I love you, I love you, I love you so much.”

She smiles and reaches for me, pointing to the door and signing for food with urgency.

“First, we have to change your diaper.”

She pats her bum to let me know it’s full. Sometimes she lets me change her diaper with ease, but lately, she likes to treat it as a game in which I have to wrangle her to get her clean.

As we head to the dining room, we pull open each set of blinds and recite a morning liturgy. It sounds a little different each day:

“Good morning, God.
The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it.
The grounds declare His glory, and the skies proclaim His majesty.
Thank you for your creation, Father.”

We prepare our breakfast, usually eggs, fruit, and yogurt or a pancake. We sit together, and I tell her we’re going to pray. She folds her hands with me.

“Blessed are You, Lord our God, Maker of the Universe,
who brings forth our bread from the earth.
Thank You for our home.
Thank You for this food.
Help us to hear Your Spirit and obey Your Word.
Give us opportunities to love others like You do.”

I open my eyes and look at my daughter. Her bright blue eyes are wide, anticipating our unison, “Amen.” She smiles and tries to make the sound.

We eat breakfast together, and I tell her what’s on the agenda for the day. She listens intently and responds with babbles as if we’re in a business meeting.

Then I grab her illustrated Bible. “Ready to read our Bible story?” I say.

She squeals as she spoons more yogurt into her mouth. It’s her way of saying, “Yes!”

I read a new section to her. Sometimes we make it through a whole story; sometimes it’s just two paragraphs before she’s ready to move on. She enjoys singing through our stories more than reading them.

I pile all the dishes in the sink and don’t touch them until later.

We love to worship in the morning.

I lay out a few musical toys and let her toddle to and fro as she learns to play the xylophone, shake maracas, and then stack blocks. Sometimes I’ll grab my guitar and sing to her. She’ll grab onto the neck, and I’ll show her how to strum. “Up and down,” I’ll say as she picks at the strings.

Other times, a warm candle burns in the background while my coffee slowly cools. Worship music flows from our Bluetooth record player, and we dance.

“Praise the Lord!” I say as I lift my hands and sway. She mimics me by raising hers. “This is a posture of surrender,” I tell her. “It helps teach our hearts that we’re giving ourselves to God, and we’re ready to receive what He has for us.”

She smiles as we rock, sway, and wave, singing to our God. We stomp our feet and dance around—just me and my girl.

One day, we’ll have school to do.
One day, there will be lessons to teach.
One day, there will be jobs to tend to and the pitter-patter of little feet in the fresh sunlight will be grown and gone.

But for today, I want to push back against the hustle and hurry and noise of the outside world and linger a little longer in this moment. So I sip my cold coffee, lift my hands, and dance in my home with my child, beholding the beauty of belonging to the King. 🤍

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

~Amber Lee Rabon~

If you read my last post, When the mom labels don’t fit, you’d know that I have been mentally cutting away (picture a machete hacking at jungle foliage) all of the things social platforms (and some people) are telling me “should be” the pillars of my motherhood. Now, I am intentionally choosing and embracing my own lane.

What exactly does this mean? Well, for me, motherhood has been a continual metamorphosis, a transformation, and a repeated prayer of, “Father, show me how to be a mother to my daughter.” So if I’m going to mother my daughter in light of this prayer, I must begin by seeking wisdom from the One who made her. As I have prayed this prayer over the past four months, here are some things God has directed me to.

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How do I embrace my lane of motherhood?

✨ Place: Start Where You Are.

This is where the mental blinders come down, and we take stock of our own lives. We can’t intentionally steward our motherhood if we’re not aware of what/who we’ve been given to steward. It doesn’t matter what Rachel, Karen, and Susan are all doing. It doesn’t matter the foods they feed their kids, the schools they go to, or the name on their jeans. It doesn’t matter if they have nannies, support from family, or no one at all.

Where are you? Where does God have you? And who did God entrust you to train and steward?

When I started this process of embracing my lane, I first had to understand where God has me. I took a step back and saw that I’m in a lane of new parenthood, establishing rhythms with an emerging toddler. But I am also in a space of transition, knowing we may feel in survival mode until we’re out of all newborn seasons. The next few years might not be as social; we may be sick often, and we’ll be tired at any event we make it to. But we also know it won’t be like that forever.

Look around and label your lane. What is your family dynamic? Are you full-time at home? Or are you working? What is your family’s budget? Where do you live? What do you regularly have access to (parks, mom groups, Bible studies)? What level of support does your family have? Acknowledge it, thank God for each facet of it, then intentionally step into it, willing to be exactly where God has you.

Then, look at the kiddos God has made you a steward of. Look for strengths, weaknesses, and gifts from God to best help them grow. These are the unique and precious kids given to you specifically.

For my husband and me, as of now, it’s just our one daughter, and she is a strong-willed but soft-hearted girly. She’s curious and playful and very territorial over her mama and her personal space. Being able to acknowledge my daughter’s strong will has helped me pray for wisdom to steward it, and not squash it just because it gives me a run for my money. I now meditate on Romans 2:4 (the kindness of God leads us to repentance) as I mother her.

✨ Purpose: Choose Whom You Serve.

Jesus’s invitation to follow him is independent of another’s choice—it’s your choice. I present to you the choice Joshua presented before the Israelites. When debating whether they will faithfully serve God alone or allow the social standards to be their god, Joshua leads them to a crossroad. He tells them, “Choose this day whom you will serve” (Joshua 24:15).

If you’re already a follower of Jesus, choose to serve Him in your day. When we choose to serve Jesus, we are choosing not to serve ourselves, our children, our spouses, or our social media accounts (all things that will never be satisfied or satisfy us). When we choose Jesus, we are serving our infinite and intimate God, who has all power and resources available to us. But we must come in faith. Hebrews tells us that without faith, it’s impossible to please God. Coming in faith pleases God because it acknowledges that He is God—never changing, present, and powerful in ways we are not.

How would your motherhood look differently if you were actively engaging with your Creator? If you woke up knowing that there is a personal God who already loves you, but also desires to be your strength and shield in all things you face in life? How would it look different to pause and pray in the middle of a tantrum, knowing that the Holy Spirit isn’t far off and your begging draws him near, but that He’s already with you, on the floor, as you try to train your child to turn even their little eyes to Jesus? What intimacy would you feel within the walls of your home, knowing both for us mamas and our babies, that we are NOT alone in our stay-at-home lives?

As Christian moms, our purpose is to serve our creator, God, by placing all hope and trust in Christ’s Lordship over our lives.

And if you aren’t a follower of Jesus or have drifted from Jesus, please read my post, My Testimony. Consider my wrestling with the faith. Consider the possibility that there might be a God, the one and only true God, who loves you, died for you, and can transform your life through His Spirit and your turning from sin. I plead with you, mama, life is better with Jesus at the wheel.

✨ Passion: Be a Disciple and Make Disciples.

Ephesians 2:10 tells us that we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. Motherhood is that good work He has given us. Loving, training, discipling kiddos is a good work. And this work comes at another crossroad—live for my own passions or live to please Christ as a wife and mother.

When I sit down to write and my daughter wakes up twenty minutes later or a tantrum erupts in the parking lot while we’re on our way to a Bible study, I have an opportunity to be a disciple and make a disciple. Instead of giving into the feeling that my daughter is interrupting my “real living” (literally a lie from Satan), I can breathe deep, listen to the Spirit, and train my daughter. I can get on her level, connect with her, and teach her why she needs to hold mommy’s hand when we walk in the street. But the only way for me to be a faithful steward without being a tired, bitter mama is to take Jesus seriously when he says, “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.”

And this is the great paradox of Christianity—in pouring ourselves out and obeying Him, we are in turn filled, overflowing with life. Whereas when we live for ourselves, thinking only of our interests, we are never truly satisfied.

The question I now ask at the start of my day is not, What do I need to get done today, but How can I be a disciple and make a disciple in my day?

✨ People: Don’t Go At It Alone!

God never intended for us to do this alone. Isolation is the enemy of sanctification, and we need other godly mamas in our lives.

One of the biggest blessings in my mothering has been finding women (through BSF and my local church) who are ahead of me and do more than just swap relatable mama stories. These are women who are living out Titus 2:4-5, seeking to love their husbands, love their children, and work in their homes. They are restful to be around and stir me towards love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24-25). They bear my burdens in prayer and lovingly challenge me to follow Jesus with my whole heart.

Intentionally seek out a community that helps keep your eyes fixed on Jesus. Being around godly mamas stirs us on to be better moms ourselves, even if it’s second-hand encouragement. We might not always sit down one-on-one and share our hearts, but I’ve been so blessed by even overhearing moms share their burdens and pray for one another.

✨Staying in our lanes means abiding in God’s word and following Jesus in how we mother, no matter what anyone else around us is doing.

✨Embracing our lanes is thanking God for and stepping into our roles as God intends for them, outlined in scripture.

There is no one size fits all, but I pray these ponderings bless you as you walk in whatever God has called you to in your life.

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

~Amber Lee Rabon

Have you ever stared longingly at an old pair of jeans that used to fit like a glove? Six months postpartum has to be enough time to get into at least one pair, right? Wrong. If you, like me, have attempted the literal suffocation of your legs for the sake of a pair of jeans, you know just how humbling an experience it is. (Unless you have divinely blessed genetics that allow you to shed baby weight like a magic unicorn). When they don’t fit, the tears flow, and we have to accept it and slide back into the same pair of leggings we’ve worn for the past eight months in this “in-between” postpartum season.

Trying to fit into a motherhood label that God hasn’t directly placed in our hearts is like doing lunges to get into an old pair of jeans—it doesn’t work. And maybe it’s not supposed to.

I’ve never been one to gravitate towards social cliques, labels, or status. I’ve gone through different phases in my life—being more tomboyish in middle school, edgy in high school, and nerdy in college—but I never thought about those stages until years later, and with much laughter. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about social groups and their labels. So when I became a mother, I was shocked at the ever-present question of what kind of mom I am.

A few weeks ago, I overheard a mom sharing her personal experience with a parasite detox. With eagerness, she stood in the center of a circle of moms who listened curiously.

“Everyone needs to be doing this,” I heard her say.

I turned to chat with someone else, loneliness welling up in my heart. The thought of having to do something so specific, or else be labeled a neglectful mother, was overwhelming. I’ve been saddened by the aggression with which some moms communicate judgment if I don’t see health and wholeness the same way they do.

If you’re reading this and are a mom who strongly identifies with labels, please know that I respect your motherhood journey for what it is—yours and a journey.

In my journey, I’ve felt like I’ve had to fight through the noise of society to hear what the Holy Spirit is telling me about my motherhood. I’ve cried before God (and in front of my husband) over this tension.

Unity is always God’s heart for Christians, but unity is hard when I hand my daughter some goldfish and another mom says to her child, “No, honey, we don’t eat those.”

So, how do I live in unity with others when my husband and I’s parenting convictions don’t fit the social labels?

While sitting at breakfast with a mentor, I asked her about her experiences as a mom, especially when her kids were younger. She shared how she quit her job teaching, similar to me. She would volunteer at church, participate in Vacation Bible School, and take her kids to different places during the day. But she also shared how she saw and felt the social pressures of her generation, too.

“The big fad when I was a mom was to feed your family based on their blood type. I watched it sweep into homes and then right out of them because the pressures were too much to keep up with. Some of my friends tried it, making different meals for everyone in the home, but it wasn’t a lifestyle of freedom, so they stopped. Now, at my age (70s), all these things seem a foolish effort. What and how we feed our families matters, but that is specific to each family and between them and God. There will always be waves of trends and new research, but these things don’t make us any more or less like Jesus, which is what matters more than anything else. Make sure your scale of what is valuable in motherhood is measuring the right things. Our lives aren’t supposed to look the same, but we are called to bear the same fruit in Christ. Our passions and spiritual gifts are only impactful if they are surrendered to the Lord first, bound in love, and used in unity.”

My whole body relaxed as I sipped my hot coffee. These were the words I didn’t even know I needed to hear. I could live in unity by focusing on God’s individual work in our lives and His nearness in the best/hardest calling that is parenthood.

What if we spent more time talking about how God is making us more like Jesus in motherhood, rather than what we feed our kids? Moms share a deep bond of undergoing Christ’s sanctifying work in their day-to-day lives. Every moment spent playing with our kids, taking care of our homes, making meals—and waking up in the middle of the night to comfort kiddos—means we’re not at the spa, getting our nails done, or sleeping. We are choosing to lay down our lives to faithfully complete the call to “train up our [children] in the way they should go” (Proverbs 22:6).

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The more I’ve talked to moms who are now empty nesters, the fewer labels and pressures I feel in my motherhood journey. Their scales of motherhood don’t squeeze all moms into the same box, but rejoice over the uniqueness of each child and family dynamic.

They tell me that time goes fast, so make memories and have fun. They tell me that homes will always need to be cleaned, but babies are only small for a little while. They have also reminded me that my food, clothing brands, and schooling choices do not save my kids; only Jesus does. They tell me to tune out of social media and tune into the Holy Spirit.

They’ve said things like:

• “Social media is the loudest voice in the world today. Turn off the noise and listen to what your Creator is speaking to you as you mother the child God made for you.”

• “You can have/do all the ‘right’ things and still miss the point of motherhood—to train up a new generation to walk humbly with God and to be made more like Jesus in the process.”

• “You will come to the end of yourself in marriage and motherhood, and it is there that you might see that what Christ has given you is for your good and His glory.”

In my life, labels have caused me to question myself and my choices as I figure out who God wants me to be as a mother. I’ve wondered if others think I’m a bad mom because of how I feed, dress, or schedule my daughter. But it was in that very thought that I realized I was more worried about what other moms thought of my choices than what God did.

So I’ve slowed down. I’m slow to what I allow in my sphere of influence and slow in how I pray about motherhood. I’m not trying to squeeze into a social expectation, like I would an old pair of jeans. I’m listening to the convictions of my God because he knows my family and my daughter best. I’m only living for one “Well done.”

I ask myself, what does it look like to live motherhood listening to the Holy Spirit instead of social media, Substack posts, and yes, even certain studies?

As I tune out the noise and tune into the voice of the Holy Spirit, He leads me in how I feed, mother, and play with my daughter. He leads me back to the throne room to pray to the One who knows my daughter better than anyone else. Even though I love every little fuzzy hair on my toddler’s perfect head, I can’t say I know how many hairs sit on it. I also can’t say I know what is to become of her life. Only Yahweh does.

So, mama, let’s first listen to the Holy Spirit and then rest in the unity of our faith as our eyes are fixed on the One who made us mothers in the first place. 🤍

Stay tuned for a follow-up post called Making Mama: Learning to Live My Motherhood (practical ways the Lord is teaching me to lean into His creative design for my mamahood).

Bless this Momma with a Coffee ☕

~Amber Lee Rabon

Our marriage dynamics are all different because God’s work in our marriages is unique to our lives. What God is doing in my marriage might be completely different from what He’s doing in yours, but one thing stands true—the Bible is always applicable, no matter what season our marriages are in. In this season of my marriage, God has been doing a mighty work, teaching me to walk in the Spirit, and not my flesh. This post is me opening my front door so that you can walk alongside me as I learn.

Marriage is a wonderful gift. Being married to my husband is a wonderful gift. He’s my best friend, and I admire him in ways words fall short to express. He’s handsome, kind, creative, funny, and knowledgeable about many things. I love being with him even in the most mundane of moments. Yet, even in our best state, our sinful nature can rear its ugly head and spoil what we hope will be beautiful times together.

Call it misplaced expectations, miscommunications, or misunderstandings—we miss each other completely sometimes. And sometimes those mishappenings are simply because we are designed by God in completely different ways. Other times, it’s because the flesh is a sneaky enemy that creeps up as "normal," "natural," or "just part of us," especially with our emotions.

But the Bible says otherwise. The Bible says emotions can become a deeper spiritual issue if left unchecked. There is an unseen war going on every day, vying for our souls, happening within us. And we have a choice.

In recent months, I have been reminded of the deceitfulness of sin. As the Lord said to Cain in Genesis 4, "Sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it."

Sin is sneaky. Sin is consuming. Sin is blinding. Sin is binding. Sin is not a fun topic, not a gentle topic, and often makes our spines prickle at the reminder that we are less than perfect. Even as Christians, we like to focus on the truth that we are redeemed and often neglect the fact that we still sin and need to repent.

God has taken my husband and me on a journey in the past eight months, revealing a myriad of sins in our hearts and minds. Our sins manifest outwardly in words and behaviors, but the root of sin is always in the heart or mind.

What has been transforming in this season is remembering that the Holy Spirit is a person. He’s not a floaty cloud or a mystical idea or a good feeling. He is alive, present, and active. He is the third piece of the trinity living in us, leading us, and revealing all spiritual truths to us.

As a quick refresher, here’s a reminder of who the Spirit is to us:

• He guides and teaches us as the Helper (John 14:26).

• He gives us an identity as adopted children of God (Romans 8:14-17).

• He empowers us to bear witness to Christ (Acts 1:8).

• He gives and takes away spiritual gifts for the good of the body (1 Corinthians 12:7-11).

• He makes us more like Jesus, giving us righteous desires by sanctification (2 Thessalonians 2:13).

• He produces good spiritual fruit within us (Galatians 5:22-23).

• He is alive within our spirits and speaks to us (1 Corinthians 6:19).

• His presence seals us as belonging to God (Ephesians 1:13-14).

• He convicts us and reveals truth to us (1 Corinthians 2:10-16).

• He prays for us (Romans 8:26-27).

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In my marriage, I face a temptation to pride that creeps around me like a fog. It’s quiet, subtle, and usually disguised as, “I know best,” because I can see the interconnectedness of things in a way my husband can’t. Sometimes I genuinely think I’m right because I feel deeply, see widely, and talk to Jesus often. But knowing Jesus and having a big perspective don’t automatically mean I’m surrendered to the Lord or obeying the Holy Spirit.

Coming from a divorced family dynamic, I’ve wrestled with my husband’s role as the leader of our home. Even though I grew up with a present dad, divorce distorted his role in my life because there wasn’t a clear head of the home—or just one home, for that matter. It wasn’t until getting married and now having our daughter that I’ve learned how vital a man’s role is to the home. However, while my parents’ decisions affected me as a child, I am one hundred percent responsible for how I relate to my husband in my marriage. My sin is not my parents’ fault, and by the power of the Spirit, God is redeeming all things, even heart-deep scars from childhood.

I find comfort knowing that even the early church needed reminders to walk in the Spirit and not the flesh. The epistles are full of exhortations for the churches to unlearn self-reliance. Galatians focuses on redirecting believers who have lost track of faith in Christ and are trying to earn salvation by good works. Philippians encourages the church to be humble as Jesus was humble and to think of others as better than themselves.

But the reality is that whatever is fed gets the strongest. When I give in to my flesh—reacting in selfishness, pride, self-protection, laziness, or even being downright dramatic—that is what gets stronger in me, which makes the voice of the Spirit harder to hear. When I am slow to speak and thoughtful about what I am tempted to in my heart and mind, I can choose the Spirit and not just default to the flesh.

I’m learning to slow down in my day-to-day life. To pause, remember, and listen to the Spirit of Christ alive in me. He has things to say if I only have the ears to hear. And friend, He speaks. I hear Him telling me when, how, and what not to say often through bringing scripture to mind. The Holy Spirit is for my husband and me individually and in our union as two individuals being one. He knows both what is happening in my heart and my husband’s at the exact same time. He knows what we need and what we don’t. He knows that marriage is meant to make us more like Jesus and not to fulfill our dreams of romance (even though we can have that in our marriage, too). He knows that withholding just one more sentence gives space for my husband to hear what the Holy Spirit is telling him and not just my voice. We need space in conversations to listen, and not just to each other.

Self-control has been an important focus as I learn that most of the other fruits come from me controlling myself and then leaning into the Spirit. Self-control allows me to stop, evaluate my thoughts and feelings, talk to the Holy Spirit, and then align them with God’s Word.

When I choose life in Jesus, I am choosing death to the flesh. And the great exchange that bursts forth is this: Our surrendered wills allow the Holy Spirit to produce the very nature of God within us—the fruit of Him. All we do is come, trust, and obey. He supplies the rest.

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Galatians 5:22-24

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.

I can’t bullet-point ten things that have drastically changed in our marriage since we started walking with hearts of repentance and obeying the Holy Spirit. But I can tell you it’s different. We see it, we feel it, and we look at each other and say, “God is doing so much. Listening to the Spirit is changing our lives.”

I see him differently, and he sees me differently. We see each other through the lens that the other person belongs to God, is made in His image, and was never designed to fulfill all our needs. Only Jesus can do that, and there is freedom in it.

So if you’re a born-again believer in Jesus Christ as your Savior, His Spirit dwells within you. You are not alone in your marriage. You have a third chord present that grabs you in one hand and your husband in the other, pulling the two of you towards the heart of the Father.

The Spirit is near. Listen and obey, dear friend, for He has things to say.

~Amber Lee Rabon~

Welcome, friend!

However you stumbled upon this nook of Substack, I’m glad you’re here. "The Overflow" is my front door, swung wide for you to enter. It’s an open-door policy to see, hear, and learn alongside me as I walk with Jesus as a woman, wife, and mother.

If you were to actually come through my front door, I’d greet you with a hug because I think we all need a few more of those. Then I’d offer you a drink: “Coffee, tea, water… wine?” I’d wink and laugh as I ushered you in. We’d sit on the floor with my daughter and your kids, too, if you have them, and play with toys. I’d ask, “How are you doing? No, how are you really doing?” And we’d swap stories of all God is doing in our lives. Tears might be shed, laughter might erupt, and lots of kiddo redirections would keep us coming back to, “What was I saying, again?” My daughter might try to climb on the kitchen table or take a tumble off the couch, and I’d jump up to save her as we continued our conversation.

I’d tell you that sometimes I miss teaching eighth-grade English, but being a mom is better than any job. “I’m still learning what it means to be a wife and a stay-at-home mom—how God wants to use my personality and gifts for our home. I talk to the Lord a lot throughout the day, both because He’s my God and also because I miss adult interaction,” I’d say, smiling as I sipped my iced coffee.

Will it always be like this when you come through my front door? Probably not. There may be days when I’m still in PJs, the dishes haven’t been done, and I’m so tired, all I can say is, “Pray for me.” On other days, you might catch my daughter and me dancing in the kitchen while we make muffins. Worship music would be playing, flour fallen on the floor, and I’d scoop her up and sing to her. Either one, God moves mightily in these day-to-day moments. It’s in these sacred spaces that I’m learning the never-ending faithfulness of my Savior. He truly never leaves or forsakes.

The title, “Out of the Overflow,” stems from Jesus’ words in Luke 6:43-45:

“No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thorn bushes, or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”

We were made to be in a relationship with God, to walk in the cool of the garden with Him. Walking with Jesus is beautiful because we get to experience such a powerful love and share that with others. But if we are to overflow with good fruit and bring the light of the gospel to those around us, we must stay close to Him through His word.

I don’t know about you, but I am often a forgetful creature and settle for less on this side of heaven. That’s why I believe the word “remember” is used over 8,000 times in the Bible. We need reminders of who God has been, is, and will be. The prefix 're' means 'again' and the Latin root 'memor' means 'mindful.' We return to the Truth—again and again and again—not because we don’t know, but because we grow dull in our minds and hearts from the weight of life.

Life can be both beautiful and hard. We all have our battles, and no one is exempt from tragedy. So my front door stays open, and so does my Bible, because we need to hear who He is and not who the world, our flesh, or our circumstances try to convince us He is.

• We need reminders that God doesn’t run from suffering but stands with us in it, redeeming even the worst of things (John 16:33).

• We need reminders that He catches all of our tears and puts them in a bottle (Psalm 56:8-9).

• We need reminders that He sings songs over us and delights in His creation (Zephaniah 3:17).

• We need reminders that Jesus does, indeed, ask for surrender, trust, and obedience when He commands His followers to take up their crosses (Matthew 16:24-26).

• We need reminders that He is a keeping and pursuing God, not being slow as some consider it, but being patient so that all people would come to repentance (John 17, 2 Peter 3:9).

Single, married, divorced, or not even a Christian, you are welcome to come through my door and sit on the floor with me.

In spending time together, you’d notice that I’m a deep thinker and a deep feeler, driven to study as I ask life’s big questions. That’s when I sit in my pink velvet chair, laptop open, and pray as I listen to what the Holy Spirit is speaking to me. Then I write. I ask God to lead my words and give to those who read exactly what they need, even if a specific post isn’t for them.

So in this nook of Substack, you will most likely…

• Hear stories of how the Holy Spirit draws me toward a deeper surrender in this wild journey called womanhood, wifehood, and motherhood.

• Read contextual biblical stories that God is using in my life to cultivate a deeper understanding of Him.

• Be invited into my deep wrestling with the in-between of being redeemed by Jesus but still experiencing the tainting effects of sin.

• I’ll share practical mom-life tips and tricks that I pick up as I go.

• I’ll probably leave you with thought-provoking questions because I just can’t help it. 😋

But more than anything, I pray that Out of the Overflow is a refreshment in your inbox, helping you see Him and keep Him on your mind in whatever He has called you to in your own life. He is incapable of being unfaithful.

So sit back, sip something, maybe grab tissues (depending on the post), and remind your heart that what God has called you to, He will fulfill in you through Jesus Christ our Savior.

If you’re looking to learn more about me, check out this post to read how I came to faith in Christ and how it’s impacted my life: My Testimony 🤍

~Amber Lee Rabon~

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