Five Minutes at a Time • A Letter To The Mamas

FIVE MINUTES AT A TIME

To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven... (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

To the Mama:

• whose child is newly diagnosed,
• who is sleeping in her child’s hospital room,
• balancing appointments, laundry, school, dinner, and medications,
• wondering what the future looks like if it never gets better or easier this side of heaven,
• who is unable to comfort her child today ...

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

To the Mama:

• whose marriage is crumbling under the weight of illness, trauma, and pain,
• who is helping her teen navigate friendships and dating (what to share and when), how to manage medications and "safe" foods at activities or retreats,
• who knows the herculean effort it took for her child to suit up and stand on that court, field, rink, or track,
• who sees her child give everything they've got so they won't let down their team,
• who watches her child grow weaker, sicker, and thinner,

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

To the Mama:

• who is clinging to hope as her child battles an eating disorder, addiction, or self-harm (desperate ways to escape illness and pain),
• who is buried under a mountain of medical debt,
• whose child will never drive a car, graduate, marry, or hold a job,
• of every precious child with chronic illness, mental illness, pain, or trauma,

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

For more than a decade, I longed for a mama who understood and who could honestly say, “You will survive this. God is still good. You can do this."

I am, I have, I can. 

Weary Mamas, we can do anything for five minutes at a time.

So tie that shoe, hug that child, steep that tea, and let the tears flow. Then take a deep breath and pray, “Show me, Lord. All I need is enough light for the next step.”

Mamas, five minutes at a time, we can celebrate a catnap or a kind cashier, savor the scent of fresh bread or clean hair.

Five minutes at a time, we can flush a PICC line, rock a hurting child, fold laundry, or step outside into the late afternoon sunshine.

FIVE MINUTES AT A TIME, WE CAN DO ANYTHING.

Our journeys may differ, but the emotions are the same: sadness, loneliness, confusion, isolation, anger, overwhelm, or even numbness.

I’ve clung to the fragile threads of hope, praying and leaning hard into God. My patience has grown through decades of well-meant but often painful advice. My compassion has deepened as I've realized that others rarely understand what they haven't experienced. Navigating the medical world has taught me to speak its language. I've also experienced marriage at a breaking point. I'm stronger and more resilient than I was two decades ago—and I've learned that the most beautiful moments often inexplicably rise from the darkest days.

Most importantly, Mamas, this moment is the gift. Life can change in a heartbeat.

We can do anything five minutes at a time.

You are not alone. You will survive this.

PRAYER

Father, I'm struggling, feeling alone, overwhelmed, unsure. I need You. Hold me close. Remind me that You're with me always, everywhere—in the hard moments, the painful moments, at the doctor's office, in the pharmacy line, the hospital rooms, always listening, watching, researching, and taking notes.

Thank You for being there, for being with me, everywhere, always. Strengthen me to keep moving forward five minutes at a time. Remind me to pause and notice the beauty around me everywhere, always. I am so grateful. In Jesus’ name, amen.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

• What is your breaking point? What do you need?
• What have you learned to do five minutes at a time?
• When has God felt especially close?
• What nugget of encouragement could you pass on to a struggling, hurting, isolated mama?

INVITATION

We all have something to share with another mama of a chronically ill child. The perfect place to begin is with #PenToPaper Note Starters. Tuck a note card or two in the book, and you'll have everything you need to pass on a little hard-won encouragement that just might change the entire trajectory of another mama's day.