Come on in and sit down. I’ve yet to meet you, but let’s just admit that we’re all a little weary here. Weary of the everyday. Weary of the mundane. When people ask me how I’m doing, I’m most likely to respond “good.” But the truth of it is more like “tired.”

I’ve got all these people to take care of. I’m honored, blessed, and overwhelmed.

There’s seven of us living in our house. Husband, myself, and five kids. The animal count varies, as we are not very dependable pet people. Currently, it’s a golden retriever, two fish, and two hermit crabs. The hamster mysteriously passed on to hamster heaven, and no one seems too sad about that.

The five kids, though.

We live in south Louisiana, where you’d think people would be used to larger families, but it’s a certainty that when they’re all with me in a grocery store, I get the inevitable “Are they all yours?” To which I respond, “Why yes, they are. But if you ask again, I’m sending one home with you.”

At least that’s what my head says. My mouth says “Yes, they’re all mine.”

All mine. Those are two words that bring me to my knees. All mine. Some question why we chose to have five children. Four are biological, and one is soon to be our adopted son. I want to say this. Having five children has brought me closer to my Heavenly Father than anything else in my life. I’ve prayed more, cried more, and loved more than I ever thought possible.

If you’ll stay with me here, I promise to bring our real-life moments, as well as eternal hope for weary hearts. BecauseĀ being worn down and a little broken doesn’t mean we’re not grateful to beĀ here.