🌸 What If “One Day” Is Today?

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” — Psalm 118:24

The other day I realized something about myself.

There is hardly a day that goes by when I do not say some version of:

I will do that later.

When this happens, then I will…

One day.

And I started thinking about how much of my life I have quietly stored away for one day.

I have things in my house that I am saving for a rainy day.

A gift I bought for someone and somehow never gave.

Dishes I am saving for the right holiday or the right gathering.

Clothes I am waiting to wear when I lose a little weight, change my hair, or have somewhere special enough to go.

There are things I want to learn.

Places I want to go.

People I mean to call.

I still tell myself that one day I am going to speak Spanish fluently.

And somewhere along the way, I realized that I have been waiting for “one day” for much of my life.

But what exactly am I waiting for?

I think sometimes we imagine that our real life is going to begin when everything lines up just right.

When we have more time.

When we feel more confident.

When the house looks better.

When our body changes.

When the children are older.

When the money is right.

When life settles down.

Then we will wear it.

Use it.

Learn it.

Visit.

Call.

Celebrate.

Begin.

But life does not always send an announcement saying, This is the day you have been waiting for.

Sometimes the ordinary day we are living right now is the day.

I am here.

I am able.

I am healthy enough to enjoy some things now.

There are people I love who can still receive the gift, hear the words, answer the phone, sit around my table, and make a memory with me.

That matters.

I do not want to keep saving everything good for a version of life that may never look exactly the way I imagined.

Maybe I should use the dishes.

Wear the outfit.

Give the gift.

Make the call.

Start learning the Spanish I keep talking about.

Take the picture before I lose the weight.

Invite someone over before everything in the house is perfect.

Do something with what God has already placed in my hands.

There is wisdom in planning for tomorrow. But I am beginning to see that there is also wisdom in not postponing every bit of joy until tomorrow gets here.

Not the day when everything finally comes together.

This day.

Maybe “one day” is not somewhere out in the distance.

Maybe, for some of the things we keep postponing, one day is today.

Your MOMENT

What have you been saving for “one day”?

Something you own?

Something you want to learn?

Someone you need to call?

A place you want to go?

A part of yourself you keep telling yourself you will enjoy later?

You do not have to change your whole life today.

But maybe choose one thing you have been saving for one day—and bring it into today.

Use it.

Wear it.

Give it.

Call them.

Begin.

Every MOMENT Matters.

🌸 When You and Your Spouse Keep Having the Same Argument

“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another…” — Ephesians 4:32

There are some arguments in marriage that seem to have remarkable staying power.

You can have the conversation on Tuesday, think it is finally settled, and somehow find yourselves right back in the same place two weeks later.

Maybe it is money.

The children.

Household responsibilities.

How much time one of you spends working.

Family boundaries.

Communication.

Something that happened years ago that still finds its way into present-day disagreements.

Sometimes you can recognize the argument almost as soon as it begins.

Here we go again.

And that can be exhausting.

Because eventually you are not only frustrated about the issue.

You are frustrated that you are still having to talk about the issue.

You may start wondering:

Why does he not understand what I am saying?

Why do I have to keep explaining this?

Why does this always turn into the same argument?

And I imagine there are times when he is wondering something very similar about you.

Marriage has a way of putting two people with different histories, habits, personalities, expectations, wounds, and communication styles under the same roof and asking them to build one life together.

That can be beautiful.

It can also be hard.

Sometimes the disagreement on the surface is not actually the deepest issue.

The argument may be about money, but underneath it someone feels insecure.

It may be about chores, but underneath it someone feels unappreciated.

It may be about how much time you spend together, but underneath it someone feels lonely.

It may be about an in-law, but underneath it someone feels unsupported.

Sometimes we keep arguing about the same thing because we have not yet understood what the other person is really trying to say.

And when we are tired, hurt, or already feeling defensive, listening becomes even harder.

We begin preparing our response while the other person is still talking.

We remember every other time this happened.

We reach into the past for evidence.

And before long, a conversation about one issue becomes a trial where both people are presenting exhibits.

That usually does not bring anyone closer.

Ephesians 4 reminds us to make room for kindness, tenderness, and forgiveness.

That does not mean pretending a problem does not exist.

It does not mean swallowing your feelings to keep the peace.

And it certainly does not mean that one spouse should be responsible for fixing everything.

Sometimes love looks like having the difficult conversation.

But perhaps the goal does not always have to be:

Who is right?

Maybe another question is:

What would help us understand each other better this time?

That small shift can change a conversation.

Maybe you need to stop talking for ten minutes before words become cruel.

Maybe you need to say, “I think we are starting the same argument again. Can we slow this down?”

Maybe you need to listen long enough to hear the feeling underneath the complaint.

Maybe there is something you genuinely need to apologize for.

Maybe your spouse does too.

And sometimes the issue may be bigger than what the two of you can untangle alone. Asking a trusted pastor, counselor, or marriage professional for help is not an admission that your marriage has failed. Sometimes it is simply deciding that the relationship matters enough to learn a different way forward.

One thing I have learned about relationships is that repeating the same argument does not necessarily mean there is no love left.

Sometimes it means there is something important that still needs attention.

Something still needs to be heard.

Something still needs to heal.

And perhaps instead of asking God only to change our spouse, there are moments when the prayer becomes:

Lord, show me what You want to change in the way I enter this conversation.

Not because everything is your responsibility.

But because your response is the part you can bring before God.

You may not resolve years of frustration tonight.

But you can choose not to add another wound to it.

You can speak a little softer.

Listen a little longer.

Pray before responding.

And remember that the person sitting across from you is not supposed to be your opponent.

This is someone you once chose.

Someone you still share a life with.

Someone who may be carrying hurts and fears that sound very different when they come out as frustration.

The same argument does not have to keep producing the same ending.

With grace, honesty, humility, and sometimes outside help, a different conversation is still possible.

A MOMENT to Reflect

Before your next difficult conversation, ask yourself:

What do I really want my spouse to understand—not simply what do I want him to admit?

That answer may help you say what is actually on your heart.

A MOMENT Prayer

Father,

You know the places in our marriage where we keep getting stuck.

You know the words we have repeated, the feelings underneath them, and the hurts we do not always know how to explain.

Help me listen without preparing my defense.

Help me speak honestly without being hurtful.

Show me where I need humility, where I need courage, and where I need to extend grace.

Help us remember that we are not enemies trying to win an argument.

We are two imperfect people who still need Your help loving each other well.

Bring wisdom to what we cannot seem to resolve and peace to our home.

Amen.

🌸 A MOMENT to Carry With You

You do not have to keep having the same conversation in the same way.

Sometimes healing begins when just one part of the pattern changes.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

🌸 When You Are Caring for Aging Parents and the Roles Begin to Reverse

“Even to your old age, I am He,
And even to gray hairs I will carry you!” — Isaiah 46:4

There is a strange tenderness that comes with realizing your parents are getting older.

For much of your life, they were the ones who knew what to do.

They drove you where you needed to go. They reminded you about appointments. They worried when you were sick. They made decisions, handled problems, and somehow seemed capable of taking care of things you did not even know needed taking care of.

And then, little by little, something changes.

Now you are the one asking, “Did you take your medicine?”

You are driving to the appointment.

You are listening carefully while the doctor speaks.

You are checking the refrigerator, paying attention to the mail, asking about bills, noticing the stairs, watching how they walk, and wondering whether they should still be driving.

Sometimes the change happens gradually.

Sometimes one illness, fall, hospitalization, or diagnosis changes everything almost overnight.

And suddenly you are making decisions for the person who once made decisions for you.

That can be hard on the heart.

Because this is still Mom.

This is still Dad.

You may know that something needs to change while also understanding why they resist it.

They have spent decades making their own choices. They may not want to be reminded that they need help.

And you may not want to be the one telling them.

There can be moments of frustration.

Repeated conversations.

Questions you thought had already been answered.

Appointments they do not want to attend.

Help they insist they do not need.

And underneath your frustration may be something you have not said aloud:

I do not want to lose you.

Sometimes caregiving is not only physically tiring. It carries a quiet kind of grief.

You are watching someone you love change.

You may miss the parent who used to give you advice.

You may wish you could call Mom and have her take care of something for you again.

You may sit with your father and realize that the man who once seemed so strong now needs your arm to steady himself.

Those moments can catch you off guard.

And there may also be guilt.

Guilt because you are tired.

Guilt because you became impatient.

Guilt because part of you wishes someone else would handle the next appointment.

Guilt because you have your own family, work, health, responsibilities, and life that still need your attention.

But loving your parents does not mean you stop being human.

You can be grateful that they are still here and still feel overwhelmed by what caring for them requires.

You can honor them and still need help.

You can love them deeply and still need boundaries.

And you will not make every decision perfectly.

One of the things I love about Isaiah 46:4 is that God does not only speak about the strength we need to carry someone else.

He says:

“I will carry you.”

That promise belongs to your aging parent.

But it belongs to you too.

While you are trying to carry medications, appointments, decisions, worry, responsibilities, and the changing needs of someone you love, God is reminding you:

You are not the only one carrying this family.

He is still God to your mother.

He is still God to your father.

And He is still God to you.

You do not have to know how the entire season will unfold.

You only need grace for the part in front of you today.

A MOMENT to Reflect

What part of caring for your parent feels heaviest right now?

You do not have to solve it in this moment.

Just tell God the truth about it.

A MOMENT Prayer

Father,

Thank You for the people who once cared for me.

It is difficult sometimes to watch them grow older and to realize how much has changed.

Give me patience when I am tired.

Give me wisdom when decisions are difficult.

Help me honor my parent while also recognizing my own limits.

And when I begin to feel as though everything depends on me, remind me that it does not.

You love them even more than I do.

Carry them.

And Father, please carry me too.

Amen.

🌸 A MOMENT to Carry With You

You may be caring for the person who once cared for you.

But you are not carrying this season alone.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

🌸 A Moment For the Caregiver

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

Caregiving can be an act of deep love.

It can also be exhausting.

Sometimes it looks like sitting beside a hospital bed. Sometimes it is helping a spouse get dressed, taking a parent to another appointment, picking up prescriptions, preparing meals, answering the same question again, or simply making sure someone you love is safe.

A lot of caregiving happens where no one else sees it.

People may ask how your loved one is doing.

They may ask what the doctor said.

They may ask whether things are getting better.

But sometimes no one asks:

How are you doing?

And even when someone does ask, you may not know how to answer.

Because you love the person you are caring for.

You are grateful you can be there.

You would probably do it all over again.

And you are tired.

Those things can all be true at the same time.

You can love someone and still need a break.

You can be thankful and still feel overwhelmed.

You can be strong and still have moments when you want somebody else to make the decisions, answer the phone, prepare the meal, or sit beside the bed for a while.

That does not make you selfish.

It means you are carrying something heavy.

Jesus never asked us to pretend that heavy things are light.

He said,

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden…”

He already knows you are tired.

He knows about the interrupted sleep.

He knows about the worries you do not say aloud.

He knows the decisions you are trying to make.

He knows what it feels like to watch someone you love change.

And He sees the things you do that may never receive a thank-you.

Perhaps today you do not need another list of things you should be doing better.

Maybe you simply need permission to admit:

This is hard.

And maybe your prayer does not need to be long.

It can simply be:

“Lord, I need You today.”

Sometimes rest will look like sleep.

Sometimes it may look like accepting help.

Sometimes it may mean letting someone else handle one thing.

Sometimes it is sitting quietly for ten minutes without answering anybody.

And sometimes rest is simply remembering that while you are caring for someone else, God is still caring for you.

A MOMENT to Reflect

What do you need today that you have been hesitant to admit you need?

You do not have to explain it to anyone.

Just bring it honestly to God.

A MOMENT Prayer

Father,

Thank You for seeing me as I care for someone I love.

You know the parts that are beautiful, and You know the parts that are difficult.

You know when I am tired, worried, frustrated, grateful, afraid, or simply trying to make it through another day.

Help me remember that I do not have to carry everything by myself.

Give me wisdom for what needs my attention today and peace about what can wait.

And remind me that the caregiver needs care too.

Thank You for caring for me while I care for someone else.

Amen.

🌸 A MOMENT to Carry With You

You can love someone deeply and still be tired.

You can be the caregiver and still need care.

And you do not have to carry today alone.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

🌸 When Your Adult Child Chooses Differently

Scripture

“And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins.” — 1 Peter 4:8 (KJV)

There comes a time in motherhood when advice becomes something your child can choose not to take.

That may be one of the hardest adjustments of all.

You can spend years teaching, correcting, praying, setting boundaries and trying to give your child a foundation that will help them make wise decisions.

Then one day, that child is grown.

And the decision is theirs.

They may choose a career you would not have chosen.

A relationship that concerns you.

A different way of raising their own children.

They may handle money differently.

Make decisions about where or how they live that you do not understand.

They may question things you thought were firmly settled.

They may even make choices that conflict with the faith and values you worked hard to teach them.

What does a mother do then?

Because loving an adult child is different from raising one.

There are some things a mother can no longer require.

There are consequences she cannot prevent.

There are lessons she cannot teach on her timetable.

And there are decisions she simply does not get to make anymore.

That does not mean she stops being a mother.

It means motherhood has entered a different season.

I have listened to mothers talk about this season.

Sometimes underneath the concern is fear.

What if this choice hurts my child?

Sometimes it is disappointment.

I thought she knew better.

Sometimes there is confusion.

Where did this come from?

And sometimes there is a quieter question that a mother may be almost afraid to say aloud:

Did I do something wrong?

Maybe that is one of the places where God needs to meet a mother's heart too.

Your adult child's choices are not a final report card on your motherhood.

You can teach well and your child can choose differently.

You can pray faithfully and your child can still make a mistake.

You can create a loving home and raise a child who eventually sees some things differently than you do.

Their ability to choose is part of becoming an adult.

And that leaves a mother with a different kind of work to do.

Not controlling.

Not rescuing every time life becomes uncomfortable.

Not withdrawing love to make a point.

Not turning every conversation into another opportunity to convince them.

Sometimes the work is learning how to remain close without taking over.

That doesn't mean you cannot speak.

Love is not silence.

There may be moments when you need to say:

“I love you. I don't agree with this decision, and I want to be honest about that.”

But what happens after you say it matters too.

Can you still listen?

Can you still have dinner together?

Can you still call just to ask how the day went without bringing the decision into every conversation?

Can your child disagree with you and still know there is a place at your table?

That can be difficult when you believe they are making a mistake.

Because sometimes rescuing looks a lot like love.

Sometimes control disguises itself as concern.

And sometimes withdrawing feels like the only way to communicate how seriously we disagree.

But there is another choice.

We can give our adult children room to experience God for themselves.

God is capable of reaching them without our constant commentary.

He can convict.

He can redirect.

He can teach.

He can close doors.

He can open others.

He can use consequences.

He can send people into their lives.

And He can do something mothers sometimes struggle to do:

He can work on His timetable instead of ours.

That does not mean every choice will eventually become the choice you wanted.

Sometimes the harder surrender is accepting that your grown child may build a life that simply looks different from the one you pictured.

And you may have to ask God to show you the difference between something that is truly harmful and something that is simply different from you.

That distinction matters.

Because the goal was never to raise another version of ourselves.

It was to raise a person who would eventually stand before God with a life, a conscience, choices and a relationship with Him that are her own.

So when you are tempted to chase, control, rescue or withdraw, there may be another prayer to pray:

Father, show me how to love my child well in the life she is actually living—not only in the life I hoped she would choose.

That kind of love does not require agreement.

But it may require trust.

Not only trust in your child.

Trust in God.

🌸 The MOMENT

If your adult child has chosen differently, ask yourself:

Does my child know that my love remains even when my agreement does not?

Then bring the part you cannot control to God.

You do not have to solve your adult child's life.

You can speak truth with love.

You can maintain healthy boundaries.

You can stop rescuing.

You can keep the door open.

And you can pray.

Sometimes the most faithful thing a mother can do is entrust to God the child she can no longer lead by the hand.

🙏 A Prayer for the Mother of an Adult Child

Father, You know this child better than anyone. You know the hopes her mother carried for her, the prayers she has prayed and the things that concern her now.

Give her wisdom to know when to speak and when to listen. Show her where loving has become rescuing, where concern has become control, or where disappointment is tempting her to pull away.

Help her see her child clearly—not only through the decisions she wishes were different.

Give her courage to maintain necessary boundaries without withholding love. When she is afraid, remind her that her child is never beyond Your reach.

And when the life her child chooses looks different from the life she imagined, help her trust You with the parts of the story she cannot write.

Keep the relationship tender enough for conversation, strong enough for truth and covered in Your grace.

In Jesus' name, Amen.

MOMENT: My adult child's choices belong to her. How I love her while she makes them belongs to me.

Pause. Pray. Love without taking over.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

🌸 I Don't Want to Forgive Yet

Scripture

“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10 (KJV)

There are some prayers that are easier to pray than others.

“Lord, protect my family.”

“Give me wisdom.”

“Help me make the right decision.”

And then there are prayers that catch in my throat because I know what I am asking God to do will require something from me.

Forgiveness can be one of them.

There are hurts we can talk ourselves through fairly quickly. Someone says something thoughtless. Feelings are hurt. An apology comes. We pray about it, talk about it, and eventually we move forward.

But some things cut deeper.

Someone betrayed your trust.

Someone lied about you.

Someone you loved knew exactly where you were vulnerable and hurt you there anyway.

A family member caused a wound that has followed you for years.

A spouse broke something between you that an apology cannot immediately repair.

Someone hurt your child.

Someone never apologized at all.

And then we read the words of Jesus about forgiveness.

We know what Scripture says.

We know what we have been taught.

But somewhere inside, there may still be a very honest response:

Father, I don't want to forgive yet.

I think we sometimes become uncomfortable admitting that to God.

It sounds wrong.

Unspiritual.

Like something a Christian woman should have worked through already.

So we may say the words before our hearts have caught up with them.

“I forgive.”

But underneath those words there may still be anger.

Grief.

Questions.

A desire for the person who hurt us to understand what they did.

Sometimes even a desire for them to hurt a little too.

God already knows.

That is why I don't think healing begins by pretending with Him.

It begins with truth.

Father, this hurt me.

I am angry.

I don't understand why they did this.

Part of me is still waiting for an apology.

Part of me wants justice.

And if I am being completely truthful with You, I am not ready to let this go.

That is an uncomfortable prayer.

But it is an honest one.

And honesty with God gives Him something we often protect from everyone else:

access to the wound.

Forgiveness does not require us to call wrong things right.

It does not erase consequences.

It does not automatically restore trust.

It does not always mean reconciliation.

And it certainly does not require returning to a relationship that is unsafe.

Forgiveness and access are not the same thing.

You can forgive someone and still need boundaries.

You can forgive someone and recognize that the relationship has changed.

You can forgive someone without receiving the apology you deserved.

And sometimes forgiveness is not one dramatic moment when every painful feeling disappears.

Sometimes it begins much smaller.

“Father, I am willing for You to make me willing.”

I love that prayer because it doesn't pretend.

It doesn't ask me to manufacture feelings I do not have.

It simply opens the door.

A little.

Enough for God to begin working.

Because when I hold tightly to what someone did to me, eventually I am carrying more than the memory of what happened.

I may begin carrying the anger into other relationships.

The suspicion.

The defensiveness.

The expectation that someone else will hurt me too.

The wound begins asking people who did not cause it to pay for it.

And I don't want someone else's wrongdoing to keep deciding who I become.

That is where forgiveness begins to look different to me.

It isn't saying:

“What you did doesn't matter.”

It is saying:

“What you did will not have the final word over my heart.”

God will.

I may still remember.

I may still need boundaries.

There may still be consequences.

There may even be days when I have to bring the same hurt back to God because I discovered another piece of it I had not surrendered.

But I can keep bringing it.

Not because the person who hurt me has earned something from me.

Because I want God to have all of me—including the part that still hurts.

🌸 The MOMENT

Maybe you are not ready to pray:

“Father, I forgive them.”

Don't give God words you don't mean.

Start where you really are.

“Father, You know what happened. You know what it did to me. I don't want this hurt to keep living in me. I am not ready yet, but I am willing for You to make me willing.”

And then stay there with Him.

You don't have to force the next sentence.

God already knows it.

🙏 A Prayer When Forgiveness Is Hard

Father, You know what happened, and You know what it cost me. You know the parts I talk about and the parts I have never said aloud.

I confess that I do not want to forgive yet. Part of me is still angry. Part of me still wants answers. Part of me wants the person who hurt me to understand exactly what they did.

I don't want to pretend with You.

So I am bringing You my heart exactly as it is.

Please do in me what I cannot do for myself. Keep bitterness from taking root in places I cannot see. Give me wisdom about boundaries, courage where truth needs to be spoken, and restraint where silence is wiser.

I am not asking You to make what happened acceptable. I am asking You to keep what happened from changing me into someone You never intended me to become.

Father, I am willing for You to make me willing.

Create in me a clean heart and renew a right spirit within me.

In Jesus' name, Amen.

🌸 Continue the Conversation

What has God taught you about forgiveness?

MOMENT: Forgiveness does not begin with pretending the hurt no longer matters. Sometimes it begins by letting God into the place where it still does.

Pause. Pray. Be honest. Let God begin there.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

🌸 I Love My Child, but I Cannot Live Her Life

Scripture

“Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us.” — Psalm 62:8 (KJV)

There was a time when so much of my child's life was mine to manage.

I decided what she ate. What time she went to bed. Where she went. Who cared for her. I scheduled appointments, talked with teachers, bought the clothes, packed what she needed and tried to anticipate problems before they became problems.

When she was little, protecting her often meant doing something.

Then children grow.

And one of the harder parts of motherhood is realizing that the job begins to change before our hearts are completely ready for it.

They have opinions we did not give them.

Friendships we did not choose.

Conversations we are not part of.

Experiences we cannot arrange.

Disappointments we cannot prevent.

Eventually, they will make decisions we would not make.

And that can be frightening when you have spent years believing that part of loving your child means keeping her safe.

I am learning that there comes a point when loving my child also means recognizing where her life begins and mine ends.

That does not mean I stop parenting.

It does not mean I become silent when she needs guidance.

It does not mean I ignore something dangerous or pretend every choice is a good one.

It means I have to remember something that motherhood can make surprisingly difficult to remember:

My child belongs to God before she belongs to me.

I can teach her.

I can pray for her.

I can set boundaries while she is under my care.

I can tell her what I have learned.

I can remind her who she is.

I can create a home where she knows she can come to me.

But I cannot believe for her.

I cannot make every decision for her.

I cannot keep every hurt from reaching her.

I cannot follow her into every room she will ever enter.

And I cannot live her life.

That last one is difficult.

Because sometimes we can see something coming.

We recognize the friendship that may hurt them.

We know what can happen when a decision is made too quickly.

We remember mistakes from our own lives and desperately want to save our children from learning certain lessons the way we had to learn them.

Everything in us wants to reach in and rearrange the pieces.

But there will be moments when our children need something from us that feels much harder than fixing:

They need us to trust God with them.

Not casually.

Not because we have run out of things to do.

But because He can go where we cannot.

God can be with my child in the classroom when I am not there.

He can sit beside her at the lunch table.

He can be present in conversations I will never hear.

He can bring conviction when my words are no longer the words she wants to hear.

He can place people in her life who reinforce what she has been taught at home.

He can protect her in ways I will never know about.

And when she makes mistakes—and she will, because she is human—God can meet her there too.

Maybe part of raising a child is slowly learning to move our hands from holding tightly to holding faithfully.

There is a difference.

Holding tightly says, I have to make sure everything turns out right.

Holding faithfully says, Father, show me what is mine to do, and help me trust You with what is not.

I think I will be learning that prayer for a long time.

Because independence does not arrive all at once.

It comes in little pieces.

The first time they don't want your help.

The first decision they make without asking you.

The first thing they would rather tell a friend.

The first time you realize they have been working something out in their own mind before bringing it to you.

And eventually, the bigger things come too.

Education.

Work.

Relationships.

Marriage.

Faith.

The direction of their lives.

A mother's love does not become smaller as her child's world becomes larger.

But our role has to make room for growth.

And maybe one of the greatest gifts we can give our children is the freedom to become the people God is calling them to be—not simply the people we imagined they would become.

That requires something from us too.

It requires knowing when to speak.

Knowing when to listen.

Knowing when to step in.

Knowing when to step back.

And knowing that stepping back does not mean stepping away.

Sometimes it simply means making room for our children to recognize God's voice for themselves.

🌸 The MOMENT

There may be something in your child's life right now that you wish you could manage for her.

Before you step in, ask God:

“Father, what is mine to do here?”

And then ask the harder question:

“What belongs to You?”

The answer may not always be comfortable.

But motherhood was never meant to make us our children's God.

It gives us the sacred responsibility of helping them know the One who is.

🙏 A Mother's Prayer

Father, thank You for trusting me with the privilege of being her mother. You know how deeply I love her. You also know the places where my love becomes worry and where my desire to protect her makes it difficult for me to loosen my grip.

Give me wisdom to know when she needs my guidance and when she needs room to grow. Help me listen before I correct, pray before I react and speak in ways that keep the door between us open.

Protect her when I cannot. Give her discernment when I am not there to advise her. Surround her with people who will encourage what is good in her. When she makes mistakes, meet her with the same grace and mercy You have given me.

And Father, when I am tempted to take responsibility for things that belong to You, remind me that You love her even more than I do.

Help me raise her with open hands.

In Jesus' name, Amen.

MOMENT: My child needs my love, my guidance and my prayers. She does not need me to live her life.

Pause. Pray. Guide. Trust God with the rest.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

🌸 What Am I Still Holding?

Scripture

“Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts.” — Psalm 139:23 (KJV)

There are prayers I can pray rather easily.

“Lord, protect my family.”

“Lord, guide me.”

“Lord, open the right doors.”

“Lord, bless the people I love.”

But there is another prayer that feels different.

Lord, show me what I have not surrendered to You.

That has been on my heart.

Not what someone else needs to change.
Not what I wish God would fix around me.

What am I still holding?

Because I can love God, pray, read His Word, serve, encourage other people—and still have places in my life where my hands are tightly closed.

Sometimes it is a person.

We say we have given our children to God, but we are still trying to control every decision, protect them from every consequence and write the ending of their story.

Sometimes it is a marriage or another family relationship. We have already decided what healing should look like, what the other person needs to do and how God needs to fix it.

Sometimes it is work. We ask God to lead while quietly hoping He leads us exactly where we have already decided we want to go.

And sometimes what we are holding is not something precious.

Sometimes it is something God has already been asking us to put down.

The eating habits we keep excusing.

The relationship we know does not honor Him.

The need to stay busy because being still makes us uncomfortable.

The conversation that becomes gossip, even though we called it concern.

The resentment we keep rehearsing.

The need to be right.

The need to be needed.

The need to control.

And perhaps that is why surrender can be so difficult.

We usually have a reason for holding on.

Fear.

Love.

Comfort.

Loneliness.

Habit.

Pride.

Uncertainty.

Sometimes we are afraid of what God might ask us to release. Sometimes we are afraid of what will happen once we no longer have our hands on it.

But surrender is not telling God something He does not already know.

It is opening our hands before the One who already knows what is in them.

I am learning that surrender is not one grand prayer we pray once and never have to revisit.

There are things I gave God yesterday that I reached for again this morning.

So perhaps today's prayer does not need to be complicated.

Father, show me my closed hands.

Show me where I am asking You to lead while still insisting on my own way.

Show me what I have renamed, justified or become comfortable carrying.

Show me the people and outcomes I am trying to control.

And give me enough trust in You to loosen my grip.

Not because I do not care.

Because I believe You care even more.

🌸 The MOMENT

Take a quiet minute today and ask yourself:

What am I still holding that I need to surrender to God?

Do not answer for your spouse.

Do not answer for your child.

Do not answer for the person whose choices have been frustrating you.

Answer for you.

Then take it to your Father exactly as it is.

You do not need polished words.

You may simply need an open hand.

🙏 Prayer

Father, I surrender to You what I have been trying to manage without You, what I have been afraid to release to You, and what I already know You have asked me to put down. Search my heart. Show me what I cannot see and what I have chosen not to see. Teach me to trust You with my children, my marriage, my relationships, my work, my habits, my desires, my future—and myself. I do not want to give You only the parts of my life that are easy to surrender. I want You to have all of me. Help me open my hands. In Jesus' name, Amen.

MOMENT: Surrender is not caring less. It is trusting God more.

Pause. Pray. Open your hands. Trust.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

🌸Still His Daughter

My daughter is a daddy’s girl from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

There is a special softness in the way she looks at her father. She knows she is loved. She knows she can call for him. She knows that when Daddy is near, she has his attention, affection and protection.

Sometimes, as I watch them together, I think, She is such a blessed little girl.

My parents were separated for years and eventually divorced when I was young. I did not grow up knowing what it felt like to be a daddy’s girl—not even close. For a long time, I thought that kind of relationship belonged to other daughters.

As I grew older, however, God began to show me something that my childhood had not taught me:

I am a Daddy’s girl too.

Not because my earthly experience was perfect.
Not because the years I missed no longer mattered.
But because I have a Father in heaven who has always known my name.

📖 “You received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.’”
— Romans 8:15

Abba is a word of closeness. It reminds us that God is not a distant figure watching our lives from far away. Through Christ, we are welcomed into a relationship with Him as beloved daughters.

Some women grew up with fathers who made them feel safe, seen and deeply loved. That is a beautiful gift.

Others grew up with fathers who were absent, emotionally unavailable, inconsistent or unable to give the love their daughters needed. Some are grieving fathers they loved dearly. Others are still healing from relationships that were complicated or painful.

Our stories are not the same.

But the invitation of our heavenly Father is extended to every one of us.

He does not ask us to pretend that an empty place never existed. He meets us there.

📖 “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling.”
— Psalm 68:5

God sees the little girl who wondered why her father was not there.

He sees the woman who learned to be strong because she felt she had no one to protect her.

He sees the daughter who is caring for an aging father, grieving a father or trying to forgive one.

And He says, You are still Mine.

You can call for Him.

You can bring Him the questions you never had the opportunity to ask. You can tell Him about the moments that still hurt. You can rest in His presence without earning His attention or competing for His affection.

His love is not inconsistent.

His presence is not temporary.

His promises are not dependent upon your performance.

Watching my daughter with her father reminds me of what a blessing it is for a girl to feel secure in her daddy’s love. But it also reminds me that the deepest security available to any of us comes from knowing that we belong to God.

Whatever your relationship with your earthly father has been, it does not determine your worth as a daughter.

You are known.
You are wanted.
You are protected.
You are loved.

Through our Father in heaven, we can all discover what it means to be held by a faithful Father.

We are still His daughters.

And in the most beautiful and eternal sense, we are all Daddy’s girls.

🌸 Your MOMENT to Reflect

What part of your earthly-father story do you need to place in the hands of your heavenly Father?

🙏🏾 A MOMENT Prayer

Father, thank You for calling me Your daughter. Meet me in the tender places of my story—the memories I cherish and the places that still need healing. Help me receive the love, security and belonging You offer me. Remind me that I do not have to earn Your attention or wonder whether You will remain. Teach me to rest in the truth that I am known, wanted and deeply loved by You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.
Every moment matters.

Trust God. Let’s Do This.

I recently heard the sweetest story.

Two little sisters, ages four and three, were walking into a new daycare classroom. The three-year-old was struggling with the change. Everything was unfamiliar, and she didn’t want to go.

Her four-year-old sister took her hand and said:

“Trust God. Everything is going to be okay. Let’s do this!”

Four years old.

She couldn’t promise her little sister what was waiting on the other side of that classroom door. She didn’t know whether she would like her teacher, make new friends, or have a good day.

But somehow, she knew enough to say, Trust God.

It made me think about Joshua.

God was leading Joshua and the Israelites into unfamiliar territory. There were things ahead that Joshua couldn't predict or control. Yet God didn't give him every detail about what was coming. He gave him something better:

“Be strong and of good courage… for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
— Joshua 1:9

The assurance wasn't that everything ahead would be easy.

The assurance was that God would be with him.

I wonder how many of us need that same reminder today.

Maybe you're standing at the door of something new. Maybe you're dealing with a change you didn't ask for. Maybe you know you need to move forward, but part of you would rather stay with what feels familiar.

Faith isn't having all the answers before we walk through the door.

Sometimes faith sounds like:

Trust God.
Take the hand that's reaching for you.
And take the next step.

And I love that she didn't stop at, “Everything is going to be okay.”

She added:

“Let’s do this!”

There comes a point when we have prayed, worried, questioned and thought about something long enough.

Now we have to walk.

Not because we know exactly what will happen.

Because we know Who is walking with us.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.”
— Proverbs 3:5

🌸 Your MOMENT to Reflect

What change, new beginning, or unfamiliar place are you resisting right now?

Maybe today you don't need to figure everything out.

Maybe you just need to hear the wisdom of a four-year-old:

Trust God.
Everything is going to be okay.
Let’s do this!

Pause. Pray. Reflect. Grow.

🌸When “I’m Sorry” Isn’t Enough

Have you ever heard yourself say something and almost immediately thought, I shouldn't have said that?

That happened to me recently.

I was frustrated with my daughter because she hadn't done something she was supposed to do—or hadn't put the effort into it that I knew she could have.

In the middle of correcting her, I used the word lazy.

And almost immediately, I felt convicted.

Not because I shouldn't have corrected her. She needed correcting.

But I knew I had chosen the wrong word.

I could have said, “You didn't do what you were supposed to do.”

I could have said, “You didn't put enough effort into this.”

Or even, “I know you can do better than what you gave this.”

Those words would have addressed what she did.

Instead, I used a word that could sound like I was describing who she is.

And she's not lazy.

More importantly, that's not a word I want my child carrying around in her head in my voice.

So I apologized.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you lazy. I was frustrated with what you did, but I chose the wrong word. That wasn't fair to you.”

Later, I started thinking about that apology and something occurred to me:

Where in the Bible does someone actually say, “I'm sorry”?

I couldn't immediately think of an example.

What I could think of was something much deeper:

Repentance.

And there's a difference.

We can be sorry because we got caught.

Sorry because someone is upset with us.

Sorry because things became uncomfortable.

We can even be genuinely sorry that someone was hurt.

But repentance asks something more of us:

What am I going to do differently because I recognize that what I did was wrong?

That brought me to the prodigal son.

When he finally came to himself, he decided to go home. He had hurt his father, wasted what he'd been given and made some terrible choices.

But when he returned, he didn't begin with excuses.

He said:

“Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight…” — Luke 15:21

In today's language, I hear:

Dad, I was wrong.

No “but.”

No explanation of what was happening in his life.

No list of things his father might have done differently.

He owned what belonged to him.

That made me think about the way we sometimes apologize to each other.

I'm sorry, but you made me angry.

I'm sorry if you took it the wrong way.

I'm sorry, but that's not what I meant.

I've probably used some version of those myself.

Sometimes the explanation may even be true. Maybe the other person really did hurt us. Maybe they misunderstood our intentions. Maybe there really is another side to the story.

But sometimes we need to let our apology stand on its own.

I was wrong.

I shouldn't have said that.

I can see how my words hurt you.

Please forgive me.

And then there's Zacchaeus.

When Jesus came into his life, Zacchaeus didn't simply feel bad about the people he had wronged. He decided to do something about it.

He said:

“If I have taken any thing from any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold.” — Luke 19:8

His repentance had feet.

I love that.

Because saying “I'm sorry” can take a few seconds.

Changing the behavior that keeps requiring the apology can take much longer.

For me, repentance in that moment with my daughter isn't simply apologizing for calling her lazy.

It's remembering the next time I'm frustrated to correct what she did without labeling who she is.

That's the change.

And maybe that's the difference between being sorry and being repentant.

🌸The Pause

Maybe there's someone we owe an apology.

A spouse.

A child.

A parent.

A sibling.

A friend.

Someone at church.

Maybe even someone we haven't spoken to in years.

And sometimes we're waiting for them to apologize first because, after all, they weren't completely innocent either.

I understand that.

But what if God isn't asking me to settle their part today?

What if He's asking me about mine?

That doesn't mean taking responsibility for something we didn't do.

It doesn't mean pretending someone else's behavior didn't hurt us.

And it certainly doesn't mean returning to a relationship that is unsafe or unhealthy.

It simply means that when God shows me my part, I don't hide behind theirs.

That's hard.

Especially when we believe we have a pretty good case for why we said what we said or did what we did.

But maybe healing sometimes begins with being willing to say:

I'm sorry.

I was wrong.

Please forgive me.

No “but.”

And then, when possible, living differently enough that our actions begin to say what our words already did.

🌸MOMENT Prayer

Lord, show me my part.

Not everyone else's. Mine.

Help me recognize when my words have wounded someone, even when hurting them wasn't my intention.

Teach me to correct without tearing down, especially with the people I love most.

If there is someone I have hurt, give me the humility to acknowledge it without immediately defending myself. Give me the courage to apologize when I need to, and then help me change whatever needs changing so that my repentance becomes more than words.

And when I am the one who has been hurt, help me leave room for repentance, grace and healing without abandoning wisdom or healthy boundaries.

Thank You for the grace You continue to give me every time I come to You and admit:

“Lord, I was wrong.”

Help me extend that same grace to others.

Amen.

🌸Today’s MOMENT

Is there an apology I need to give without adding a “but” behind it?

And one more question:

Am I correcting someone's behavior—or labeling who they are?

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

🌸 What Do You Need to Come Back To?

Scripture

“Return to me, and I will return to you,” says the Lord Almighty.
— Malachi 3:7

THE MOMENT

Driving home from a short vacation, somewhere between “I could use another few days” and “I cannot wait to sleep in my own bed,” 😂 I started thinking about how good it feels to get away.

But I also thought about how good it can feel to come back.

There is something about returning home.

Your own bed.
Your own kitchen.
Your familiar routines.

Even unpacking the suitcase does not seem quite as bad when you are finally home. Well...maybe. 😂

But somewhere on that drive, I realized that coming back is not only something we do after vacation.

Sometimes we need to come back in life, too.

TODAY’S REFLECTION

Life has a way of pulling us forward.

The next appointment.
The next responsibility.
The next thing our children need.
The next work or ministry assignment.
The next family situation.
The next problem to solve.

We keep moving because that is what women so often do.

But sometimes, while taking care of everything and everyone, we can drift away from things we never intended to leave behind.

Our quiet time with God.

A friendship we meant to nurture.

Family dinners.

Taking care of ourselves.

A dream we put on the shelf.

The habit of actually sitting still long enough to hear ourselves think.

Maybe even the version of ourselves that laughed more, rested without guilt, called friends just because, and did not feel as though every minute had to be productive.

And sometimes we drift from God.

Not because we stopped loving Him.

Life simply got loud.

SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO COME BACK

The beautiful thing about God is that He allows us to return.

We do not have to wait until everything is fixed.

We do not have to explain where we have been.

We do not have to pretend we never wandered.

We can simply come back.

Back to prayer.

Back to His Word.

Back to trusting Him.

Back to the people who matter.

Back to something we know God placed in our hearts.

Back to taking care of the woman in the mirror.

And coming back does not necessarily mean returning to exactly where we left off.

Sometimes we come back rested.

Sometimes wiser.

Sometimes a little bruised.

Sometimes more grateful.

Sometimes with clearer eyes about what deserves our attention—and what no longer does.

A MOMENT TO THINK ABOUT

Maybe today is not about adding something else to your life.

Maybe it is about asking:

What do I need to come back to?

Is it God?

Prayer?

Your family?

A friendship?

Your health?

Rest?

Joy?

Something you once loved doing?

Or perhaps you need to come back to yourself—the woman God created before life became so busy that everybody else's needs started speaking louder than your own.

There is value in moving forward.

But there is also wisdom in knowing when to pause, turn around, and return to what matters.

And here's what I love:

God is not standing at the door asking why it took you so long.

He is simply glad you came back.

MOMENT PRAYER

Lord,

Thank You for being a God who welcomes us back.

When life becomes busy and I lose sight of what matters most, help me recognize it.

Bring me back to You.

Bring me back to prayer.

Bring me back to the people and things You have entrusted to me.

Help me release what no longer deserves so much of my energy and return my attention to what does.

And when I need rest, remind me that pausing is not quitting.

Sometimes stepping away gives me the clarity I need to come back differently.

Amen.

YOUR MOMENT

What is one thing you need to come back to?

Don't make a ten-item list.

Just name one.

And this week, take one small step toward it.

Maybe open your Bible again.

Call the friend.

Have dinner at the table.

Take the walk.

Pick up the project.

Sit quietly with God.

Or simply give yourself permission to rest.

You don't always have to start something new.

Sometimes you just need to come back. ❤️

Pause. Pray. Return.

❤️ Every MOMENT Matters.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
MOMENT Moms™
MOMENTMoms.org

When You Do Not Need Another Answer

An open Bible and journal beside a cup of coffee, reflecting a quiet moment to listen for God’s direction.

The MOMENT

I am a person who likes answers.

I like knowing what comes next. I like plans, calendars, lists, and knowing that something has been handled.

Maybe you can relate.

But lately, I have been reminded that there are moments when I do not need another answer. I need to become quiet enough to recognize the direction God has already been giving me.

Sometimes I pray about something and then immediately start trying to solve it myself.

What should I do? Who should I call? What is the next step? What am I missing?

And before long, my prayer has turned into another project for me to manage.

Perhaps the problem is not always that God has been silent.

Sometimes there is simply so much noise around us—and inside us—that we have trouble hearing Him.

Scripture

“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”
— Isaiah 30:21

Today’s Reflection

Listening to God does not mean that we will always receive an immediate answer.

Sometimes His direction comes through Scripture. Sometimes through wise counsel. Sometimes through a door that opens—or one that remains firmly closed.

And sometimes God asks us to wait.

That may be the hardest kind of listening.

I am learning that waiting does not mean God has forgotten about me. It does not mean nothing is happening. It may simply mean that I do not yet see what He is doing.

This lesson has followed me through motherhood, work, ministry, writing, and seasons when my own plans changed unexpectedly.

I still have questions.

I still make lists.

I still want to know what comes next.

But I am learning to leave a little more room between my question and my next move.

Room to pray.

Room to read God's Word.

Room to notice.

Room to listen.

Because sometimes the next step is not something I need to figure out.

Sometimes I simply need enough faith to recognize it when God shows me.

MOMENT Prayer

Father, there are so many voices competing for my attention, including my own. Help me recognize Yours. Give me wisdom when I need to move, patience when I need to wait, and faith when I cannot see what You are doing. Keep me close enough to You that when You say, “This is the way,” I am ready to follow. Amen.

This Week’s Challenge

Before making one decision this week, resist the urge to immediately solve it.

Pray about it first.

Read a passage of Scripture.

Give yourself a little time before responding.

Then ask:

God, is there something You want me to notice before I decide what to do?

Before You Go

You do not have to have every answer today.

You only need enough light for the step God is asking you to take next.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Every moment teaches us something. The question is: Are we paying attention?

— Monica Lynne Wilkins

🌿When I Thought I Was Falling Behind

This Week's Scripture

"The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand."
Psalm 37:23-24 (NLT)

A few days ago, I heard John Maxwell speak at the SURGE Conference about learning to get a return on failure.

His message stayed with me, but not because it was about leadership.

It stayed with me because it made me think about my own life.

There have been seasons when I quietly wondered if I had fallen behind.

Not because I wasn't trying.

Because things simply weren't happening the way I had prayed they would.

There were opportunities I thought were meant for me that never came.

Plans that changed.

Doors that closed.

Prayers that seemed to linger without an answer.

For a long time, I looked at those moments as interruptions.

Now I see them differently.

They weren't interruptions.

They were invitations.

Invitations to trust God when I couldn't see where He was leading.

Invitations to grow in ways I never would have chosen for myself.

Invitations to discover that my identity was never tied to a job title, a promotion, or even my own timeline.

One of the reasons I created THE MOMENT is because I needed that reminder myself.

To stop.

To breathe.

To notice where God was already working before I rushed ahead trying to fix everything.

I've learned that some of God's greatest work happens while we're waiting for the next door to open.

Sometimes He isn't changing our circumstances.

He's changing us.

Looking back, I wouldn't choose every difficult season again.

But I also wouldn't trade who I've become because of them.

Perhaps that's what it means to fail forward.

Not that we enjoy disappointment.

Not that failure suddenly feels good.

But that we allow God to use every experience to move us closer to the person He created us to be.

💛 Today's MOMENT

Is there a season in your life that you've labeled a failure?

Take a fresh look.

Ask God to show you not only what you've lost, but also what you've gained.

You may discover that while one door was closing, God was quietly preparing another.

🙏 MOMENT Prayer

Father,

Thank You for never letting our setbacks be the end of our story. When life doesn't unfold the way we expected, help us remember that You are still directing our steps. Give us eyes to see Your hand in every season, courage to trust You when the path feels uncertain, and faith to believe that You are using every experience to shape us into who You've called us to be.

Teach us to pause long enough to recognize that You never waste a moment.

In Jesus' name,

Amen.

🌿 Live the MOMENT This Week

Write down one disappointment you've carried for a while.

Then answer this question:

"How has God used this experience to help me become the woman I am today?"

You may be surprised by your own answer.

Pause. Pray. Reflect. Live It.

Because every moment—even the difficult ones—matters.

Monica Wilkins

Do I Recognize God's Voice?

Woman sitting quietly in prayer beside a sunlit window, reflecting on recognizing God’s voice amid the noise of everyday life

Pause. Pray. Listen.

Before you continue reading...

Pause for just a moment.

Ask God to quiet the noise around you and help you recognize His voice today.

📖 Scripture to Read This Week

1 Samuel 3

Psalm 23

John 10:27

"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me."

—John 10:27

🙏 A MOMENT Prayer

Lord,

Quiet the distractions around me so I can recognize Your voice.

Help me become so familiar with You that following You becomes my natural response.

Amen.

🌿 MOMENT Reflection

This morning I was reading 1 Samuel 2 and 3, and one verse just stayed with me.

"In those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions."

—1 Samuel 3:1

I kept rereading this verse and asking myself...

Why was hearing from God so rare?

As you read these chapters, you can't help but notice what was happening around Eli. His sons were serving in the tabernacle, but they were living in ways that dishonored God. Eli knew what was going on, yet he failed to deal with it.

The people were still worshipping.

The sacrifices were still being offered.

But something was missing.

God's voice had become rare.

Then there's young Samuel.

Samuel was in the tabernacle.

He was serving faithfully.

Yet when God called his name...

he didn't recognize His voice.

That made me stop and think.

I wonder if sometimes we can become so familiar with doing church that we forget the most important part is knowing the God we're there to worship.

Sabbath is such a beautiful gift because it strengthens what we've hopefully been building all week long.

It's possible to know the praise songs...

the order of service...

the traditions...

and even the Scriptures...

yet still struggle to recognize when God is speaking to our hearts.

Recognizing God's voice doesn't begin when we walk through the church doors.

It begins in the quiet moments throughout the week—

when we open His Word...

when we spend time in prayer...

when we listen instead of rushing...

and when we invite Him into our everyday lives.

Then I thought about the next generation.

Whether we're raising children...

loving on grandchildren...

mentoring young people...

teaching a class...

serving in ministry...

or simply living as women of faith...

someone is watching how we follow Jesus.

Are we only teaching them how to attend church?

Or are we showing them what it looks like to have a real relationship with God?

Do they see us praying because we love talking with Him?

Do they see us reading His Word because we want to hear His voice?

Do they see us trying to obey Him—even when it's difficult?

As I continued reading and reflecting this week, my thoughts kept returning to Psalm 23.

"The Lord is my Shepherd."

Those simple words reminded me that our Shepherd is still leading His sheep today.

He still provides.

He still restores.

He still guides.

And just as sheep learn to recognize the voice of their shepherd by spending time with him, we learn to recognize God's voice by spending time with Him.

Maybe that's what God was reminding me through these passages.

He is still our Shepherd.

He is still speaking.

The question isn't whether God is speaking.

The question is...

Are we becoming so familiar with our Shepherd that we recognize His voice, trust where He's leading, and willingly follow Him?

As I continued reflecting on these passages, one thought kept coming back to me.

Maybe God's voice wasn't rare because God had stopped speaking.

Maybe it was rare because so few hearts were truly listening.

That thought challenged me.

God still speaks today—

through His Word...

through the Holy Spirit...

and through those quiet moments when we choose to be still before Him.

The question is...

Am I slowing down enough to listen?

Today I'm asking the Lord to help me—and all of us—

become women who know Him well enough to recognize His voice...

trust Him...

and obey Him when He speaks.

Because one day...

someone we love may recognize God's voice...

because they first saw what it looked like in us.

💛 Today's MOMENT Thought

Every moment we spend listening to God prepares us to recognize His voice when He calls.

Have a wonderful Sunday and an even better week.

My prayer is that each of us will make time this week to pause, listen, and allow God to speak to our hearts.

Until next time...

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Every MOMENT matters. 💛

— Monica

The Waiting Isn't Wasted

There are seasons in life when it feels as though everything is on pause, but God is still at work.

Lately, I've been thinking about seasons of waiting.

Waiting for answers.

Waiting for feedback.

Waiting for clarity.

I've learned that waiting isn't just about time. It's about trust.

Over the past year, I've realized that waiting doesn't have to mean standing still.

Some of the most meaningful work God has done in my life hasn't happened after reaching a milestone. It's happened while I've been writing, learning, serving, spending time with family, building ministry, and simply trying to be faithful with what's already in front of me.

Looking back, I realize those weren't interruptions to God's plan. They were part of it.

Purpose isn't found only in the destination. It's found in how we choose to live while we're on the journey.

Every day we're becoming someone. The question is, who are we becoming while we wait?

I've come to believe that even when we can't see the full picture, God is still working. Sometimes He's opening doors we don't yet see. Other times, He's quietly preparing us for what comes next.

Sometimes the greatest MOMENT isn't when God changes our circumstances. It's when He changes us while we wait.

So if you're in a season of waiting, don't assume nothing is happening. Whether you're waiting for direction, healing, a breakthrough, an answer, or simply the next step, God is still at work.

Keep learning.

Keep preparing.

Keep serving.

Keep showing up.

Trust that even when you can't see what God is doing, He is still at work.

MOMENT Prayer

Lord, thank You for reminding me that waiting is never wasted when I place it in Your hands. Help me to trust You when I can't see the whole picture. Teach me to keep learning, serving, growing, and walking faithfully in the purpose You've already given me. Shape me into the person You are calling me to become while I wait. Help me to trust that Your timing is always better than my own. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Pause & Reflect

Before you move on with your day, take a MOMENT to ask yourself:

Who am I becoming while I wait?

Sit quietly for a moment.

Invite God into your thoughts.

Then ask Him to help you see this season not as time lost, but as time He is using to prepare you for what comes next.

Every moment matters.

Monica Wilkins

Faith

Earlier this week, I prayed about something that was heavy on my heart.

And God answered.

Not only did He answer, but the answer came in a way that was even better than I had imagined.

I was so thankful.

And then...I shared it with someone.

The questions came.

The doubts started creeping in.

And before long, I found myself wondering:

Was this really God?

How do I know this was not just a coincidence?

Isn't it interesting how quickly that can happen?

We can pray and pray for God to move. We can ask Him to open a door, provide an answer, make a way, give us clarity—and then when something finally happens, we start analyzing it.

At least I did.

This morning, while I was thinking about the blessing and questioning what had happened, my mind went to the Israelites.

God had delivered them from slavery in Egypt. He had done what they could never have done for themselves. Yet once they were in the wilderness, they became so focused on what they did not have that they struggled to trust the God who had already shown Himself faithful.

And still, God provided.

He gave them manna.

They had not asked Him specifically for manna. They did not even know what manna was.

But God knew what they needed.

That stopped me.

Because I realized I was doing something similar.

I had asked God for help.

He answered.

I thanked Him.

And then I started questioning the very thing I had just thanked Him for.

My doubt was making me suspicious of my own blessing because I could not completely explain how it had happened.

I even caught myself wondering whether God might somehow take the blessing back because I had allowed doubt to creep in.

Our minds can take us to some interesting places, can't they?

But thankfully, God is far more gracious than our fears.

Sometimes we become so concerned with figuring out how God answered that we forget to simply say:

Thank You.

There is certainly a place for discernment. Not every open door is necessarily God's direction, and Scripture tells us to seek wisdom.

But discernment and doubt are not the same thing.

Discernment asks, “God, is this You? Help me follow Your direction.”

Doubt can keep asking questions long after God has given us reason to trust Him.

And that is what I am learning.

I want to trust God while I am waiting.

But I also want to trust Him after the answer comes.

📖 This Week’s Scripture

“Give us today our daily bread.”
Matthew 6:11

Such a short prayer.

But there is so much trust in it.

Give us what we need today.

Not necessarily what we expected.

Not always in the way we imagined.

Not with every detail explained beforehand.

Just the confidence that our Father knows what we need.

Today’s MOMENT

Think about something you have been praying about—or something God has already provided.

Then ask yourself:

Am I receiving what God has given me with gratitude, or am I allowing fear and overthinking to steal the joy from it?

Maybe today you do not need another explanation.

Maybe you simply need to say:

Thank You, Lord. I trust You with this.

🙏 MOMENT Prayer

Father,

Thank You for hearing me when I pray.

Help me trust You not only while I am waiting for an answer, but also when the answer comes.

Give me wisdom to discern Your direction without allowing fear to make me question every good thing You place in my life.

When You provide differently than I expected, help me recognize Your hand.

When I cannot explain everything, remind me that I do not have to understand everything in order to trust You.

And when doubt starts getting louder than gratitude, bring me back to what I already know:

You are faithful.

Help me receive Your gifts with an open and grateful heart, trusting that You know what I need even before I ask.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

🌿 This Week’s MOMENT Challenge

This week, notice one answered prayer or unexpected provision that you might normally overlook.

It does not have to be something big.

Maybe someone calls at exactly the right time.

Maybe an opportunity appears.

Maybe something you were worried about works itself out.

Maybe God simply gives you peace about something that has been troubling you.

Before you analyze it, explain it away, or call it coincidence—

pause and thank God.

You can ask questions later.

But first, practice gratitude.

💛 Before You Go...

Faith is not only trusting God when you are waiting for the blessing.

Sometimes faith is trusting Him enough to receive the blessing when it comes.

You may not understand every detail of how God is working.

You do not have to.

Remember the manna.

The Israelites did not know what it was when they first saw it.

But God did.

He knew what they needed.

And He knows what you need, too.

Pause. Pray. Reflect. Grow.

Every moment matters—even the ones that remind us to simply say thank You.

— Monica Lynne Wilkins
Founder, MOMENT Moms