We’re in some crazy times, aren’t we? I’ve been addicted to reading the news, fighting anxiety, and struggling to focus. It’s easy to grow more discouraged and weary, and I think we have to actively battle that by finding things that nourish our souls.

Here are a few ideas and resources I’ve collected this week. I hope they’re helpful, and I pray we can all remember that God is still good even in the chaos.

Many nights, I lay my head on the pillow and the quietness of the evening makes my thoughts all the louder. I scroll through questions in my mind from mundane to meaningful. Did we close the garage door? Did I just hear the kids call out? Was my friend offended by what I said? Shouldn’t I be doing more about all the problems in the world? Why does God allow such suffering? What if my daughter’s fever gets worse? Do my kids have to bring a snack to preschool tomorrow? It’s like the questions are ping-pong balls flying through my brain. Even if I answer each one, another comes flying back at me.

I’ve said it before, and it’s still true. Motherhood has revealed my own need to me more than any other experience in my life. I have never felt so in over my head than I have in the last five years. I overanalyze how I handle my twins’ fighting, I beat myself up for too much screen time, I fear the thousand more important and life-altering decisions to come in the next 15 years. And I’m just so tired. 

We haven’t had a hard road to growing our family. We haven’t even had hard babies for the most part. Sure, having two newborns at the same time proved quite the challenge. But even the most ordinary of parenting experiences puts me on my knees.

There’s so much I carry in my head. Most of it would seem useless to many people. But I can tell you exactly which stores have two seats in the cart and how prices of diapers on Amazon compare to prices at Costco. I remember my son’s fire truck pajamas need to be washed because otherwise the tears will flow at bedtime. And, not that you’d ever want to know this, but I could tell you the last time each one of my three kids pooped.

Somehow over the years the practice of memorizing Scripture has been pushed aside in my brain to make room for remembering where my twins’ shoes are or that I need to take the meat out of the freezer in time for dinner. But a couple year ago, a few friends and I slowly memorized Romans 8, and it was nothing short of life-changing—especially during the most wearying days of motherhood.

A couple years ago, I called my dad to check up on him while he was in the hospital. I can’t recall what sent him there this particular time, but he picked up the phone, light-hearted and positive as ever. “How you feelin’, Dad?” I asked. 

“Everything’s all good,” he told me. “I’m perfectly healthy.” 

I rolled my eyes and recounted to him his current ailments. The “perfectly healthy” part was an exaggeration, to say the least. And was he really “all good”? 

I made my skepticism clear, to which he retorted, “Well, this is nothing compared to being shot down in the middle of a war.”

Okay, well played, Dad. I don’t know what it’s like to fly a helicopter and get shot down. Even so, I shook my head, both annoyed at my dad’s apparent denial of his poor health and wondering how he could be so upbeat in a hospital bed.

Many of us will gather around the table to celebrate Thanksgiving in a couple days, and if your family is anything like mine, there will be an abundance of food. We’ll talk and eat and laugh and eat some more. We’ll all go home with leftovers for a week, and you’d better believe I’m already thinking about the turkey sandwich I’ll make the next day. 

Thanksgiving dinner is the quintessential feast.