Striving & Stillness, A Poem

Sep 13, 2025 | Everyday Life, Faith, Family

I asked ChatGPT to help me with a poem that gave off the same vibes as my Striving & Stillness post for my vision board. I know people have ~*~feelings~*~ about ChatGPT’s help in creative writing, but I really want it to live in this space, too. <3

I push, I plan, I chase the day,

Stack lists and rules to light my way.

The world cries louder, “Do, achieve—

Perfection waits for those who weave.”

Yet Scripture whispers, calm and clear,

“Be still, My child, for I am near.

Abide in Me, your burden’s light,

My grace will hold you through the night.”

Motherhood is not a chart,

But Spirit’s fruit within the heart:

Love, patience, kindness, gentle hands,

A faithful walk where mercy stands.

So discipline is not my king,

But grace that guides each daily thing.

Faithful work, and holy rest,

Both a gift, when God knows best.

Not “all the things,” but what is true—

The call He’s placed today, to do.

To love, to play, to simply be,

A mother rooted deep in Thee.

Striving and Stillness

Sep 9, 2025 | Everyday Life, Faith, Family

I’ve always been the kind of person who pushes harder. If a little discipline is good, then surely more must be better. My default is to add another list, try a new routine, or squeeze one more ounce of productivity out of the day. And in motherhood, that tendency only intensified—everywhere I turn there’s advice about how to be more intentional, more motivated, more structured, more productive. Do this, don’t do that. Build the perfect morning routine. Follow the right parenting strategy. Be both gentle and firm, disciplined yet carefree. But here’s the question that keeps tugging at me: If I’m not doing all the things, am I failing? How do we get things done if we’re not constantly driving ourselves forward at 100 miles an hour?

When I turn down the volume of culture and turn toward Scripture, I hear something so different. The Bible doesn’t call me to hustle harder—it calls me to abide. To rest. To trust that Callahan doesn’t ultimately need a perfectly disciplined mother, but a mother who is rooted in Christ. So what does biblical motherhood look like? How do we hold the tension between motivation and discipline on one hand, and the calm stillness of God’s presence on the other? That’s the balance I’m learning to lean into.

Motherhood today comes with a constant stream of voices. Scroll through Instagram or open a parenting book and you’ll find endless advice—some good, some overwhelming, all promising to shape us into better moms. If we just follow the right method, try the latest trend, or add a new routine, we’ll finally feel like we’re “enough.” But when I open my Bible, the tone is different. Scripture whispers what culture shouts over: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Jesus Himself invites us, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Rest, not hustle. Abiding, not striving. It’s such a contrast, isn’t it? The world says: produce, achieve, stay motivated, keep up. God says: abide in Me, for apart from Me you can do nothing (John 15:5). One demands more of me; the other reminds me that He has already given me all I need.

And here’s the beautiful thing: when I rest in Him, it doesn’t mean nothing gets done. It means that the work I do flows out of peace instead of panic, from a place of dependence instead of depletion. That kind of motherhood—the one rooted in stillness—isn’t flashy. But it is deeply faithful. When I think about “biblical motherhood,” my mind often wants to jump straight to checklists: teaching my child Scripture, praying over meals, prioritizing church. And while those things are beautiful and important, I’m realizing that biblical motherhood isn’t another list of tasks—it’s a way of being. In Galatians 5, Paul writes about the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Notice it’s not the “fruit of a perfectly disciplined mom,” it’s the fruit of the Spirit at work within us. That’s what kids need most—not a mom who always has the right answer or the most structured plan, but a mom who abides in Christ so His character spills over into our home.

Biblical motherhood is rooted in grace instead of running on guilt. Faithfulness in small, ordinary moments instead of frantic productivity. Teaching Callahan dependence on Jesus not by my striving, but by showing how I depend on Him. Presence over perfection—choosing to sit and laugh with him instead of endlessly managing the next task. It’s not that discipline and intentionality disappear. God calls us to diligence (Colossians 3:23) and to train our children in the way they should go (Proverbs 22:6). But in His design, discipline is meant to be rooted in abiding, not in anxiety. It’s about doing the things He has placed in front of me today—not all the things I feel pressured to add on top. Biblical motherhood, then, is less about being the most motivated or productive and more about being available—for God to work in me and for me to truly see and love my child.

Now, here’s where the tension gets tricky. Because discipline and motivation aren’t bad. In fact, they’re good gifts when they’re rightly ordered. Scripture commends diligence: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters” (Colossians 3:23). The Proverbs 31 woman is celebrated for her strength, wisdom, and work ethic. God Himself is a God of order, not chaos. So the problem isn’t discipline itself—it’s when discipline becomes my savior. When I believe that being more structured, more intentional, or more motivated is the thing that will hold my world together. That’s a weight it was never meant to carry.

Redeemed discipline looks different. It’s fueled by grace, not guilt. It’s rooted in love for God, not fear of falling behind. It’s measured by faithfulness, not productivity.When I shift my perspective, discipline stops being a burden and becomes a tool—something God can use to help me steward my home well, without letting it define my worth. Motivation stops being about chasing the next trend and starts being about responding to His call for today. Instead of asking, “How much can I get done?” I can begin asking, “What has God actually placed before me right now, and how can I do it with love?” Sometimes that’s folding laundry with worship music on. Sometimes it’s sitting on the floor playing games and letting the dishes wait. Sometimes it’s closing the laptop and going to bed because rest is the most faithful choice.

Discipline and motivation aren’t erased in biblical motherhood—they’re redeemed. They take their rightful place, no longer my master, but tools that help me walk faithfully in the calling God has given me. So how do we live in this tension—between doing and abiding, discipline and rest, motivation and stillness? I don’t think it’s about finding the perfect formula. It’s more about walking closely with the Lord each day and letting Him direct our steps. For me, it means pausing to ask simple but clarifying questions: Is my schedule drawing me closer to Jesus, or pulling me further away? Am I more influenced by social media voices, or by the Word of God? What am I teaching Callahan about joy and rest by the way I live my days?

Some days, balance looks like leaning into discipline: setting routines, being intentional, managing the home. Other days, balance looks like letting go of the plan and choosing presence, laughter, or a nap. And maybe that’s exactly the point—true balance isn’t static; it’s a rhythm of listening to God’s voice and responding in faith. We don’t need to do it all. We don’t need to carry the weight of perfect schedules, flawless parenting, or endless motivation. We are called to something better: faithfulness. To love our children and point them to Jesus. To work diligently, yes, but also to rest deeply in the One who holds all things together.

Let’s be mothers who model both intention and surrender. Who work hard but also play. Who live disciplined lives, yet are marked by joy, peace, and rest. Because in the end, the story of our motherhood isn’t about how much we accomplished—it’s about Who we abide in.