[Author’s Note: This is the final installation of a series that begins here and continues here and here.]
Yeah… I’m not going to bother with an explanation here. It just didn’t happen this month.
And, to my dismay, this is the final installation of this series. How will I procrastinate in the future!?
Spring 2023
January 15
I hope this email finds you well, especially in what has become a prolonged season of illness for many people! It doesn’t help that our famous Colorado winter sun has been uncharacteristically shy these last several weeks.
This past month has left me feeling weirdly vulnerable — like, now that we’ve gotten RSV, and Covid, and the flu, maybe we’re also going to end up with other stuff: rickets, and scurvy, and meningitis, and who knows what else!
Ok, so admittedly, we’re not at high risk for those other ailments. Even so, my fear brings to mind 2 Corinthians 4:16, one of my very favorite verses — “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.”
So, in conclusion, I sincerely hope that you are not physically wasting away. However, even if you are… take heart! If you ask Him, Jesus will renew your inner life on the daily… even if you have scurvy. ♥️
January 29
The main point of this email is simple: there’s no meeting this week, because Tuesday (1/31) is a fifth Tuesday. (As a reminder, Golden MOPS only meets on first and third Tuesdays.) Our next meeting will be February 7th.
Buuuuuuuut, I also have a slightly embarrassing story to share — so here it is:
Last night, I drove alone in the dark for the first time in months… and I was petrified. (Like, waaaaaay more than I should have been.)
At the time, I could rationalize why I needn’t be concerned: I was in a familiar car, going to a familiar place, on familiar roads. Plus, I used to drive around at night all the time — so what was different about last night?
Well, the difference is that I *used* to frequently drive around at night — but not anymore. Nowadays, I’m quite out of practice. Thus, something that shouldn’t have scared me became a huge source of fear.
Reflecting on the experience, I realized that I feel the same way about sharing my faith. When I’m in the habit of talking about Jesus, then it’s not scary. But, when I’m out of practice, the prospect of discussing the gospel becomes positively daunting. It’s not for nothing that Peter urges Christians to “always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have” (1 Peter 3:15 — emphasis added).
So maybe you’re interested in developing that faith-sharing habit, but you’re still not sure where to start. Well, I just listened to the audiobook of Mama Bear Apologetics: Empowering Your Kids to Challenge Cultural Lies — and to my pleasant surprise, I found the book to be a timely and robust resource. I highly recommend it for mamas who are looking for ways to more effectively share their faith — especially with their kiddos.
So maybe you should check it out, too. 😘
February 4
Get ready for an extra-special introduction…
This past Tuesday night, our MOPS Leadership Team gathered [virtually] for our monthly planning meeting. We prayed for the members of our MOPS group and for God’s wisdom in steering our [rapidly growing!] community through the rest of this semester and beyond.
We also discussed our plans for February’s meetings and for upcoming special events — namely, the Women’s Clothing Swap and this summer’s Leadership Retreat [i.e. campout]. In the course of this latter discussion, an unexpected topic arose: the topic of burning human feces.
(And if you’re wondering… yes, *I* was the one who raised that particular subject.)
“Just like in Ezekiel!” I defended. I quickly pulled open my Bible app and paraphrased Ezekiel 4:12-15 —
“After God tells him, ‘Lay siege to your Jerusalem diorama as a sign to the exiled Jews,’ then He tells Ezekiel, ‘And you’re also gonna have to cook your food over a fire of human poop.’ And then Ezekiel is like, ‘No, God! Please don’t make me do that — I’ve never been ritually defiled!’ So then God relents, and He’s like, ‘…Alright. You can use cow poop instead.’”
Not surprising, this mini-Bible lesson was met with a combination of laughter and shocked silence. Finally, our co-coordinator answered, “I challenge you to make that the opening of this week’s email.”
I thought for a few seconds — because frankly, this is a hard passage. Finally, though, it came to me.
“Well… this is encouragement that when we’re faced with something that we really don’t want to do, we ought to cry out to God. Sometimes He relents and removes the burden! But, sometimes, there’s a good — if still unknown — reason for what He’s asking us to do… and so when we cry out, He relents only by making the situation slightly less crappy.”
(And yes, I might have used a different word as the punchline there. 😳💩)
So there you have it: I met the challenge head-on. You’ll have to let me know what you think of this extra-special introduction.
(But on a serious note… I really love the book of Ezekiel, so if you’re looking for a more refined discussion, I’m down for that, too.)
February 18
It’s that time of year again: the time in mid-winter when growing things start to revive. All around, plants make ready for their imminent return. Trees nurture soon-to-open leaf buds; irises debut a few pudgy green spikes; and grape hyacinths turn into small piles of verdant spaghetti. It happens every year, like clockwork.
And, every year, I can feel it deep in my soul: the aching desire for spring. I’m constantly scanning the ground for a telltale peek of color. An indigo crocus? A white snowdrop? Everywhere I go, I’m searching for flowers — but of course, there aren’t any.
Or, rather, there aren’t any… yet.
Because just as the buds and spikes and grasses return year by year… so too will the flowers. That floral ache will soon be soothed by the God who “satisfies the longing soul and fills the hungry soul with goodness” (Psalm 107:9).
So no matter how you feel about flowers, offer your desires up to God. He wants to give you good things. ♥️
[Author’s Note: The early March email was specially guest-written by our coordinator and thus does not appear in this anthology.]
March 18
Some seasons of life seem to be overflowing with difficult questions. Where should I send my firstborn for kindergarten? What should I do about my wasteland of a backyard? How should I prioritize my time this month? And what should I write for the MOPS email this week?
In these times, I’m comforted that God invites us to call to Him. When we do, He promises this: “I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know” (Jeremiah 33:3).
Isn’t that good news? God will answer our calls, and He desires to make Himself known — which means that He’ll respond via a method that is accessible to each one of us, individually! He may not be easy to hear, but He will answer in specific ways that each of us can receive.
Which means that there’s still hope for our wasteland of a backyard. 🥲
April 2
Happy Palm Sunday! Today, of course, marked the beginning of Holy Week — the final week before Jesus’ crucifixion. On the first Palm Sunday, He was welcomed into Jerusalem as a king, accompanied by shouts of, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Matthew 21:9).
The word “hosanna” comes from a Biblical phrase meaning “pray, save us”. When the crowds shouted, “Hosanna!”, they hoped that Jesus would deliver them from the Romans, or from their debts, or from their illnesses, or from any of the burdens of life.
But, then He died. How can a dead man deliver anyone from anything? He can’t.
That’s why it’s so, so important that Jesus didn’t stay dead! He rose victorious from the grave to become the King that He was destined to be: a King who is indeed able to save us from our political oppressors, our physical ailments, and our financial concerns. (Although, He doesn’t always remove those burdens — but that’s a discussion for another time.)
More importantly, though, Jesus became a King who is willing and able to rescue us from the slavery of sin, so long as we come to Him and ask.
Oh, and Jesus doesn’t do things halfway — so when we ask, He won’t just save us a little bit. He’ll save us “to the uttermost” (Hebrew 7:25)!
April 16
Can you believe Easter was only a week ago? These past seven days have felt like twice as long — especially in preparing for and putting on the Women’s Clothing Swap yesterday! Thanks to the assistance of our wonderful volunteers, the event was a heartwarming success. (I so appreciate everyone who helped! 😊)
One of the best parts of the Swap was that we had the opportunity to serve a set of unexpected guests: three Iranian women whose husbands are Mines students. The women attend English class at First Baptist Church, which is how they heard about our event.
And let me tell you: they were thrilled to come to the Swap.
I was told that these ladies don’t have much spending money; thus, they were ecstatic at the chance to shop for free. They left with light hearts — and a very full car.
Speaking personally — my heart was also lighter for seeing their joy, and for the tangible opportunity to obey one of Jesus’ maxims: “Anyone who has two cardigans should share with the one who has none” (Luke 3:11).
(Ok, so maybe the original text says “tunics”. But it’s the same idea. 😉)
April 30
(Heads up — this is a long and Hallmark-y intro.)
For the past several years, the arrival of spring has given me the false hope that I’ll finally succeed in growing something. Well, something besides fall-planted bulbs and trees — because at least I can manage those. My very special linden tree? Check. Daffodils? Check. Irises? Double-check.
But the spring stuff is a different matter. Dahlias? No chance. Lavender? Always dead. Columbine? Ha! You make me laugh.
Unfortunately, my poor success with spring-planted flowers does little to dissuade my continued efforts. Year after year, countless seeds and tubers fall victim to my distracted ignorance and careless disregard.
And this year, those victims included a half-dozen ranunculus corms. I wasn’t going in blind: I had studied up on Floret, so I had a general idea of how to grow ranunculi: soak them, pre-sprout them, and don’t let them mold or rot.
I got the first two steps right — but then I sort of forgot about the corms, and a week later, they were moldy and unsprouted. I planted them in little peat pots anyway — but then I left them outside overnight in the snow. So now they were moldy, frozen, and still unsprouted.
I brought the hopeless ranunculus pots back inside — mostly because I was embarrassed that, once again, any neighborhood pedestrians would bear witness to my failed gardening attempts. I kept meaning to empty the peat pots and plant something else — but I was lazy, and I never got around to it.
But then something miraculous happened. This past Thursday night, I glanced at the pots and saw that — against all odds — two of them had sprouted anyway! I had done everything wrong, but my haphazard labor still produced growth.
These ranunculus corms feel like the perfect analogy for my life. I desire to follow Christ perfectly, but I’m distracted, and I’m careless, and I end up doing all the wrong things. If it were up to only me, I’d be doomed — just like my ranunculi should have been.
Thankfully, though, it’s not just up to me! Christ followers can rest in the knowledge that the Holy Spirit helps us in our weaknesses. We don’t even know what to pray for — let alone how to act! — but the Spirit takes our weak and pitiful prayers and makes them perfect before God (Romans 8:26, Revelation 5:8).
So we’ll see whether my tiny sprouts actually produce flowers — but from now on, ranunculi will always remind me of the Holy Spirit’s work in my life. ♥️
[Author’s Note: Those tiny sprouts did not, in fact, produce flowers. But, I’ve actually had much better success with dahlias this year!]
May 14
Happy Mother’s Day! I hope that each of you has had a relaxing and fulfilling Sunday — even if today has not turned out exactly how you wanted.
Tonight’s dinner went a bit like that for us. After several hours of shoveling around dirt and lilacs, my husband and I were physically and emotionally exhausted. We hoped that our kids would accommodate by being on their best behavior for dinner — but, of course, that’s not how it went.
My youngest son hysterically threw his food on the floor; my oldest son dropped unsubtle hints about wanting ice cream; and my daughter positively refused to let go of her baby doll.
“No toys at the table,” I reminded her, finally wresting the doll from her grasp. Then, situating the toy on the windowsill, I said, “Here — Baby will sit right here, where she can watch you eat.”
“No!” my daughter wailed. “I only love her when she’s with me! I don’t love her when she’s over there!”
I bit back a smile, then counseled, “You know, a good mom always loves her babies, no matter how far away they are.”
Not to be outdone, my daughter retorted, “Yeah, but this mom doesn’t! I want Baby!”
After I stopped laughing, I realized that this was the perfect opportunity to talk about God’s love: that no matter where we are on earth, He loves us just the same. It doesn’t matter if we’re in a church or in a prison. (And in my own experience, home can feel like either.) No matter what: no location, no power structure, and no created thing can keep us from His love (Romans 8:39)!
(And, in case you’re wondering, my daughter magically rediscovered her love for Baby after finishing dinner.)
June 8
Hello everyone,
This is my very last missive as your email gal.
It’s a bittersweet moment for me: bitter, because it’s sad to leave a group to which I’ve belonged for over four years; but sweet, because God is present not just with Golden MOPS, but with other MOPS groups, too.
For those who may not have heard, I have been called to join the leadership team of another MOPS group, which I’ll call Mountain MOPS. This was, needless to say, an unexpected development.
Since the start of this year, I’ve been praying about my future involvement in Golden MOPS. Should I once again come back as the email gal? Or in a different leadership position? Or as a non-leadership mama? Or perhaps not at all? I felt like my prayers were getting nowhere: that I couldn’t complete this puzzle because I was missing a critical piece.
God delivered that missing piece in March, when my business partner Rosie told me that Mountain MOPS seemed at the point of dissolution for lack of rising leaders. My immediate thought was that perhaps Golden MOPS could absorb the faltering group — so I asked how many members it had. She answered, “Twenty or thirty?” — which is too many members to absorb.
The elimination of this group would negatively impact the lives of many women, I realized. It needs new leaders — ones who are able to shepherd the group through a transition… and I think *I* might be one of those leaders!?
Rosie was surprised when I dropped my face into my hands and mumbled, “Oh, no!”
“What?” she asked. “… Are you being called to Mountain MOPS Leadership!?”
“Maybe?” I hesitantly responded.
I prayed fervently over the following month. I got the sense that God would reveal His answer to me — but that I had to go to the next Mountain MOPS Leadership Team meeting to receive it. I discerned that their manner of greeting would manifest whether God was actually leading me to leave my MOPS group.
On April 12, I walked into Mountain MOPS’s leadership meeting unannounced. I explained that I thought God might be calling me to join their leadership team in their hour of need. The woman who greeted me — who I later found out to be the current coordinator — looked at me and sincerely marveled, “You’re an answer to our prayers!”
I had laid out my fleece (Judges 6:37), and here was the clear answer — the exact wording and everything.
It seemed obvious that I was supposed to follow this call — but just in case, God orchestrated another sign for me, too. One of the graduating leaders asked me, “Oh, did you see that MOPS announced the theme for next year? It’s ‘Say Yes’.”
God’s confirmation felt a bit on-the-nose at this point.
In the end, I was gratified that He gave me such explicit direction, but I was — and still am — also grieved to leave. Golden MOPS has been my community since my oldest child was still a baby. It’s been the group of mamas who have seen my subsequent pregnancies and my terrible miscarriage. And, it’s been a captive audience — which is a positive delight for a narcissistic aspiring writer like me.
Indeed, I know you’re sad to lose me, too. Who else will find a way to turn every meeting reminder into a thousand-word essay? Who else will bark at everyone to take things from the Free Table, lest you be punished? Who else will constantly interrupt the other leaders?
(And yes, obviously, I’ve contributed several good things, too — but those things are less funny.)
To put it bluntly: I know that Golden MOPS will be different without me there — and not solely for the better. Even so, I also know that this group is strong and resilient.
The week before I went to that fateful leadership meeting, I stood in front of Golden MOPS and scrutinized the vibrant women before me. This group is going to be absolutely fine, I realized. Regardless of whether or not I’m part of it.
And I fully believe that assessment — though I didn’t in years past. During the pandemic, we were basically just trying to keep the group on life support, and I was one of the most invested physicians.
Now, though, Golden MOPS isn’t just surviving: it’s thriving. I will be so excited to see from afar how God continues to move in your group — and I promise to come visit from time to time, too.
Because I’m not fleeing from Golden MOPS; I’m sharing Golden MOPS. More groups need what your group has.
So, in closing, continue to be a safe place for mamas to reconnect: with God, with themselves, and with each other — and let us together strive toward a world with no more lonely mamas.
Until we meet again,
Holly
Golden MOPS Communications Chair, July 2020 – June 2023
P.S. Remember, you can always find more of my writing on my blog.
Lots, lots more of my writing.
Epilogue: Summer 2023
So… Now I’m on the Mountain MOPS Leadership Team, right?
Well, not exactly.
I wrote out the whole saga, but it’s irretrievably long, whiny, and boring. So, instead, I’ll make a [very] long story short: Mountain MOPS decided that I was not the right fit for their leadership team, and I was subsequently disinvited.
Why, you might ask? Well, it’s been tricky to get a straight answer — but, as best I can tell, the mentor moms believe I’m insufficiently tender and friendly. Nevermind my years of experience with MOPS administration: apparently, all leaders must be overflowing with sweetness and fun, and awkward social rejects need not apply.
This rebuff hit me really hard, but I had little recourse. It was pointless to protest that their assessment was inaccurate — because, on the whole, it was accurate: I am neither tender nor friendly. (Although, I hardly think I’m the misanthrope that I apparently seem to be.)
I was then invited to become a general member at Mountain MOPS, instead — but I respectfully declined. It’s clear that I’m too harsh for that group of ladies, and I would hate to subject them to my continued presence.
So, what’s my current plan? Well… I’m returning to Golden MOPS, I think. Tomorrow is the first meeting of the year, and I plan to attend — despite how awkward it may be to return to my former group. In fact, I was hesitant to even ask whether they would take me back: not only had I abandoned them, but I’m also clearly not everyone’s cup of tea. Maybe it would just be better if I kept to myself, for once.
But, I didn’t want to deceive the Golden MOPS ladies, so I ashamedly told them what had happened. I was humbled when, with one accord, they welcomed me home — and they made it clear that they wanted me: not my administrative skills or my emails, but just me.
I have a hard time internalizing this claim: that people could want me around, regardless of what I can do for them. But, it’s obvious that the corollary is true: that people could not want me around, regardless of what I can do for them. The Mountain MOPS Leadership Team is certainly an example of the latter. So even though I have a difficult time accepting it, I will choose to believe that Golden MOPS is an example of the former.
Oh, and one more thing: even now, months later, I still can’t explain why God sent me to Mountain MOPS. In retrospect, the mission seemed destined for failure. But, it’s not really my job to understand, or even to succeed.
My job is simply to trust and obey my Father. ♥️