This space holds written reflections that sit alongside the podcast — created for moments when listening isn’t enough, and you need something quieter.
These reflections aren’t designed to be read in order or kept up with. You’re invited to arrive where you are, and read what meets you there.
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Our homes carry more than belongings.
They carry stories, emotions, transitions, and weight.
In fostering, space matters not in a perfectionistic way, but in a protective one. A cluttered environment can quietly amplify stress, dysregulation, and overwhelm for both carers and children.
I’ve noticed that creating physical order is often less about control and more about care. About stewardship. About choosing what supports the season we’re in, and gently releasing what no longer serves us.
Decluttering isn’t about having less for the sake of it. It’s about making room for peace, for rest, for regulation, for presence.
Sometimes tending to our environment is one of the kindest boundaries we can set.
“Let all things be done decently and in order.” 1 Corinthians 14:40
You don’t need to overhaul everything.
You don’t need to create a perfect home.
Even small shifts can create breathing room.
This is not about doing more it’s about supporting yourself where you already are.
Here’s a quiet tension many mothers carry especially those who foster.
The pull between giving fully to the children in our care, showing up for our own families, and still holding space for who we are beyond the roles we carry. Mum guilt often whispers that something is always being neglected. That choosing one thing means failing another.
I’ve felt that weight for 15years. the sense of being torn in too many directions, wondering if my presence is enough anywhere at all.
What I’ve learned, slowly and imperfectly, is that guilt doesn’t always come from truth. Sometimes it comes from impossible expectations we were never meant to meet. From trying to be everything, to everyone, all at once.
Faith gently reframes this for me. It reminds me that God doesn’t measure my motherhood by balance or output, but by love, intention, and faithfulness in the small moments that don’t always feel visible.
“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.” Psalm 103:8
You’re allowed to have ambitions.
You’re allowed to rest.
You’re allowed to change and grow alongside the children you care for.
Mum guilt doesn’t get the final say.
Grace does.
There’s a misconception that foster carers should keep their own dreams small as if ambition somehow conflicts with care, or personal growth takes something away from the children we support.
I don’t believe that’s true.
I’ve learned that having goals doesn’t mean rushing or striving endlessly. It means acknowledging that we are still becoming even in the midst of responsibility, unpredictability, and service.
Big, bold goals don’t have to be loud. They don’t have to be rushed. They can be held with patience, prayer, and openness allowing God to shape not just the outcome, but the process.
Sometimes growth looks like learning new systems.
Sometimes it looks like building rhythms that support the season you’re in.
Sometimes it simply looks like believing there’s more ahead even if you can’t see it clearly yet.
“Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and He will establish your plans.” Proverbs 16:3
You don’t need to have it all mapped out.
You don’t need to prove your progress to anyone else.
Your goals can grow alongside your calling not in competition with it.
This reflection connects with the episode “Big, Bold Goals”.