Happy Mother’s Day

Hi, friend, and Happy Mother’s Day!

I know this holiday can bring on a mix of emotions, depending on your own personal journey and story. That’s why I want to take a minute to share a powerful moment I experienced a few months ago.

I was standing in church and singing during our worship time. This was back when Matt and I were trying for a third baby, but I wasn’t pregnant yet. (Is that TMI? You and I are besties, so surely not!)

Matt and I both agreed we wanted a third, but we talked and prayed extensively before going down that road because we wanted to make sure—absolutely sure—that we would be thrilled with a girl or a boy. Despite what some articles and books say, you can’t really control the gender of your baby. Once we agreed on that, we knew we were ready to add to our family.

Well, on this particular day, when I was standing in church, praying, and worshiping, I could not stop thinking about how deeply I desired a daughter. In fact, I had dreamt of having a daughter my whole life. My mom was a single mom and I was an only child, so my relationship with her is and always has been one of the most important in my life. We are more like best friends or sisters than mother and daughter.

I wanted that with a daughter of my own. And also because it would mean so much with my legacy for women. And also because I just knew Matt would be an amazing girl dad. And, and, and . . .

You get the idea.

So, as I was standing in church that day and thinking about the future with a third baby—and with the gender of that baby out of my control—I just kept fighting those thoughts about wanting a baby girl.

They felt selfish. They felt silly. They felt vulnerable. And, most of all, they felt like a setup for a letdown.

I kept trying to push them out of my mind like the dirty laundry I try to hide before a guest comes in my house.

I just kept thinking to myself . . .

I’ve got to guard my heart. I just have to guard my heart. I don’t want to get my hopes up, and I just have to guard my heart.

Then, in the middle of my mental self-coaching, I heard the gentlest whisper, and I knew it could only be from God. He said,

“You never have to guard your heart with me. I know what to do with every desire I have given you, and I know what to do with every broken piece when you’re disappointed. You never have to guard your heart with me.”

Tears started pouring down my face.

The whisper continued,

“And get your hopes up? I am the God of hope. Get your hopes up! Bring them to me. I promise you I can handle them.”

That day was transformative for me in more ways than you can imagine. It wasn’t just about a baby girl. It was about who God is, and how He feels about my heart’s desires—in any situation or any season of life.

We all try so hard to protect ourselves from disappointment, to insulate ourselves from heartbreak. But God reminded me that day that He is the God of hope. And we aren’t fooling anyone (especially not God, who knows our every thought!) when we try to deny our desires.

I don’t know what types of emotions Mother’s Day evokes for you. But I want to offer you the gentle words God offered me in a moment of vulnerability and when I was wrestling with my own desires.

Let these words from your Father sink into your spirit:

“You never have to guard your heart with Me. I know what to do with every desire I have given you, and I know what to do with every broken piece when you’re disappointed. So get your hopes up, daughter, because I am the God of hope!”

Today, I hope you feel embraced by the God of the universe that put every star in the sky and every hair on your head and every dream in your heart.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” – Romans 15:13 NIV

With love,


P.S. While it doesn’t always turn out this way (which each of us knows all too well), sometimes God shows up and surprises us and gives us the very thing we were scared to ask Him for.

Mary Grace Wright is due September of this year. (And, yes, I bawled my eyes out when I found out!)