If we were sitting together right now — coffee in hand, kids probably interrupting us every five minutes — I think we’d both admit: motherhood is beautiful, but it’s also… really hard.

Not just the “I’m tired” kind of hard.

The deep, heart-level kind.

And it’s usually in the most ordinary moments —loading the dishwasher, holding a boundary during a meltdown, trying to get dinner started while someone needs you right now —that the deeper questions come up:

“Am I doing this right?”

“Why does this feel so heavy?”

“Why is my childhood showing up in my parenting?”

“God… are You still in this with me?”

There’s a song called “Truth” by Leanne Crawford that asks exactly that —

Are You still here, God? Are You still with me?

And that honesty just gets me, because I’ve prayed that exact prayer so many times.

And strangely enough, that raw, shaky kind of honesty reminds me of Asaph.

The Strong Ones Get Tired Too — Even Kingdom Leaders

Asaph wasn’t just a random name in Scripture.

He was King David’s appointed worship leader.

Not for a small group… for the entire kingdom of Israel.

He organized the choirs.

He oversaw the musicians.

He wrote psalms.

He led worship in battle, celebration, mourning — all of it.

He was even called a seer, a prophetic voice for the nation.

But even this man — the spiritual leader of a whole kingdom — had a moment where he cried out:

In other words:

“I can’t keep it together today. I’m overwhelmed.

I don’t know what to do with all of this.”

And don’t we feel that as moms?

We’re the ones:

• managing everyone’s emotions

• holding routines and rhythms

• carrying the mental load

• trying to heal from what we grew up with

• praying over our kids’ hearts

• hoping we’re doing enough

• breaking generational patterns on the fly

  
  

And sometimes we look up at God with tired eyes and whisper the exact same question:

“Are You still in this with me?”

My Own Psalm 77 Turning Point

Can I tell you something real that happened the other day?

I had one of those moments where everything felt like too much.

I got in my car, closed the door, and went for a drive. The kind of drive where the silence feels loud because your thoughts are swirling.

And finally, out loud, with tears streaming, I said:

“God… WHERE ARE YOU??”

No fancy prayer.

No “right words.”

Just truth — the kind that hurts coming out.

And let me tell you… He met me there.

Not with thunder.

Not with a miracle moment.

No audible answers.

But with music.

Suddenly songs started playing — songs I had never heard before — and every single one spoke directly to the questions I had just asked.

The lyrics felt like answers:

“I’m here.”

“I see you.”

“I haven’t left.”

“I’m walking this with you.”

Right there, alone in my car, He reminded me that He was still in this.

Still with me.

Still steady.

Still faithful.

It didn’t fix everything around me, but it shifted everything in me.

It was my own Psalm 77 moment — the moment where nothing on the outside changed, but the presence of God softened something inside my heart.

When Our Focus Shifts, Our Heart Steadies

That’s what happened to Asaph too.

Midway through Psalm 77, he shifts.

Not because his life suddenly got easier…but because he remembered.

That remembering is what calmed him.

It’s what brought him back to center.

And that’s exactly what God did for me in my car —

He helped me remember:

• the miracle He gave me in my daughter

• the ways He’s held me in seasons I thought would break me

• the songs He used before to speak life into me

• the protection He gave me that I didn’t see at the time

• the fact that He has never once left me

• the people he has put in my life to fill the gaps

That remembering doesn’t erase the hard parts of motherhood…but it gives us firmer ground to stand on inside them.

You’re the Worship Leader of Your Home

When I think of Asaph leading an entire kingdom in worship, I can’t help but think of us moms.

Because we lead our homes in the same way.

Not with instruments…but with our presence.

Every time you:

• say a breath prayer before responding

• play worship music in the kitchen

• talk about Jesus in the car

• comfort your child with gentleness you never received

• apologize and reconnect

• whisper “Jesus, help me” under your breath

• open your Bible while your child watches

…you are shaping the spiritual atmosphere of your home.

This is worship.

This is leadership.

This is legacy.

And your children notice more than you think.

Legacy Isn’t Perfection — It’s Honest Faith

Asaph didn’t bring perfection to God.

He brought truth.

And so did I in my car.

And so do you on the days where motherhood feels like too much.

Your kids don’t need a perfect mother.

They need a mother who knows where to go when she’s overwhelmed.

A mother who says:

“It’s okay to feel this way — let’s take it to Jesus.”

That honesty becomes part of their inheritance.

Like Asaph’s Sons, Your Legacy Will Continue

Scripture tells us the sons of Asaph continued worship for generations.

His faith — messy, honest, steady — became their foundation.

And that’s exactly what’s happening in your home.

Our children will remember:

• a mom who cries out to God and He meet her in it

• a mom who worships honestly

• a mom who is healing while raising them

• a mom who builds safety out of brokenness

• a mom who chases Jesus, even on the hard days

• a mom who doesn't just talk about faith — she lives it

  
  

Your worship, your honesty, your healing…it becomes their starting point.

This is legacy.

This is motherhood with God.

And friend — God is absolutely still in this with you.

A Prayer for the Mama Reading This

Lord,

thank You for trusting me with these children and this season.

When I feel stretched thin, remind me that You are near.

When I feel unsure, steady my heart in Your truth.

Teach me to lead my home the way Asaph led worship—with honesty, with faith, and with a heart turned toward You.

Help me create a home where Your presence is felt,

where peace is lived out,

and where my children grow up knowing the sound of a mother who walks with Jesus.

Strengthen me, guide me, and lead me as I lead them.

And let the legacy I’m building be rooted in You.

Amen.