I grew up in a loud home — six brothers and me, the only sister. And I loved it.

I loved the noise echoing through our small house, the constant laughter, the inside jokes, the way we’d gather around the table and relive moments that had just happened hours before. It was full. It was alive.

But when I look back now, what stands out most isn’t just the noise — it’s my mother.

She was the steady, strong presence that kept everything moving. She loved being “Mama.” She showed up for us over and over again. And yet, even as a young girl, I sometimes wondered who she was outside of motherhood. I admired her deeply — even when I could sense she rarely had time to rediscover herself.

Then I became a mother.

And I realized something no one fully prepares you for:
Motherhood is the place where you both find yourself and lose yourself at the same time.

You gain a fierce love you never knew was possible. A supernatural ability to show up for your children. A deeper tenderness. A stronger resilience.

But slowly, quietly, you can also begin to tuck away the woman with the dreams. The ideas. The calling. The purpose.

Almost believing your time has passed.

As a coach, I’ve asked many women, “What are your goals? What are your dreams? Do you know your gifts and strengths?”

So many respond with:
“I don’t know.”
“It will never happen.”
“I just don’t have time anymore.”

And I understand.

I am both a visionary who dreams big and a mother whose daily life requires presence, patience, and practicality. But Scripture reminds us of something powerful:

“Write the vision and make it plain…” — Habakkuk 2:2

And at the same time:

“Do not worry about tomorrow…” — Matthew 6:34

There must be a holy balance available to us — a way to dream boldly while living fully present.

Motherhood has become that sacred space for me.

It has caused me to ask deeper questions about who I am — not just because I care for children who will grow up one day, but because I am co-laboring with God to raise humans who must know who they are.

Psalm 139:14 says,
“I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

I want my children to know this — not just memorize it.

But how can they truly believe they are fearfully and wonderfully made if they don’t see me living like I believe it too?

If I don’t use my gifts.
If I don’t pursue what God has placed inside me.
If I don’t trust Him enough to uncover my purpose and walk it out imperfectly but faithfully.

So I made a decision.

I would no longer just tell my children about purpose.
I would let them see me pursue mine.

They see me try.
They see me laugh loudly.
They see me use my gifts — even when I mess up.
They see me step into new things.
They see me say yes to what aligns and no to what doesn’t.
They see me trust God when I don’t know what’s ahead.

And one day, they will see me cross finish lines God called me to.

Motherhood is not the end of purpose. It is often the rediscovery of it.

It is the place where we model courage. Where we demonstrate obedience. Where we live out identity in real time.

And as they celebrate their mom walking in purpose, I get to celebrate them discovering theirs.

Motherhood isn’t just daily tasks and responsibilities.

It is the invitation to rise again — fully ourselves — so our children can see what it looks like to live a life aligned with who God created us to be.

And that is a gift.