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Megan Munroe
Arise. Breathe. Create. Thank God. Repeat.
Arise. Breathe. Create. Thank God. Repeat.

Megan Munroe's posts

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To the Mom Who is Running on Empty
My back is pricked with sweat. I toss my littlest up onto my shoulder while my eyes dart back and forth over the play structure. Where is she? My four-year old has disappeared again from my sight. My oldest son? Well, I've just given up hope of being able t...

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When a Whisper is Enough
The echo of empty. The hollow space. The hurt of being human. Some mornings just feel like that. John Piper puts it this way, "I feel like I have to get saved every morning. I wake up and the devil is sitting on my face." I absolutely love that quote. Becau...

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To the Mom Who Repeats Herself a Million Times a Day
I am an expert at repetitive comments. Like gold star status. I have seriously considered adding it to my resume, emboldened with asterisks. My guess is that you do too. Don't climb on that. Take that out of your mouth. Don't sit on the chair like that! Tak...

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A Recipe for A Worshipful Life
Worship is made up of different ingredients. Worship doesn't look just one way. In fact, it can't. To be complete, it requires different parts of ourselves all coming together for the same purpose: obedience and awe.  Recently, I found something interesting...

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When Your Heart is Broken
There is a little boy in the ICU at Seattle Children's Hospital right now. He had open heart surgery yesterday. He was four days old. This beautiful little boy was born with a broken heart. He is my nephew. And even though I have not met him (his condition ...

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To the Mom Who is in the Trenches
"Train a child in the way he should go. Even when he is old, he will not depart from it." I've always read this verse in Proverbs with a militant undertone. Train a child . It seems straightforward. Training requires rules. Discipline. A strictness. A regim...

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To the Mom Who Is Anxious
Motherhood is tangled. It twists. And turns. And takes issue. And lets go of that issue. And then puts a foot down. And then lets that foot remain filthy while washing her child's. It is a life-giving exercise in humility by way of life-taking sacrifice. An...

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For the Mom Who Feels Stuck in Her Faith
I love gas station sunglasses. I love them for two reasons. One: they are cheap. Two: they never let me down. I have very low expectations of gas station sunglasses. When they break (which they inevitably do right before I need them) I just shrug, cradle th...

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To the Mom Who's Sad
I keep waiting to write this blog until my own sadness has been lifted. I keep waiting to sit down so I can write, "Whew. Ok, I'm on the bright side of things, here's what I learned." But I can't fake it. I can't write that blog. So instead of writing that ...

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To the Mom Who Feels Like a Horrible Friend
I'm eight years old and walking in the most beautiful garden I've ever been in. It's not our garden. It's our neighbor's garden. I honestly have more memories of our neighbor's white farmhouse house with the wraparound porch than I do of my own childhood ho...
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