If we were sitting down together with coffee in hand, I would tell you this was not about being seen. It started with a simple hope: to survive the day without letting go of grace.
I am a former foster mom, a special needs sibling, a teacher, and a mom who reads ingredient labels like a second language. I have stood beside my husband through cancer. I parent children with “suicide headaches,” life threatening allergies, and beautifully complex neurodiverse needs. Our home is also shaped by the ongoing, stretching journey of transracial adoption. It is a journey that continues to grow my heart in both the best and hardest ways.
I have laughed in hospital rooms, cried in school parking lots, and whispered prayers over sleeping kids more nights than I can count.
For the past 20 years, I have moved between the classroom and staying home, shifting with the needs of my family and learning to trust that each season has its own kind of grace. During that time, I have taught in private Christian schools at every preschool level, as well as in kindergarten and third grade classrooms. While we feel called to send our own children to public school, my experiences have given me a deep appreciation for different educational paths, including a strong heart for supporting homeschool families in their unique journeys. That rhythm has shaped how I see growth, rest, and what truly matters.
The threads of my life, ministry, motherhood, education, neurodiversity, adoption, and advocacy, have woven together a quiet but persistent calling: to hold space for women who are doing their best in the middle of the mess. The ones holding classrooms together. Holding families together. Holding themselves together. Sometimes just barely.
I started Grace in the Disarray because I needed a space like this too. A place where real life is not only acknowledged, but honored. Where faith doesn’t need a filter. Where women can find both practical tools and soul-deep encouragement.
I believe grace isn’t something we earn by getting it all right. It’s the steady, loving presence that reminds us we’re not alone when everything feels wrong.
So whether you’re here as a believer, a wife, a mom, a teacher, or as a woman trying to catch her breath… I see you. I’m with you. And I’m so glad you’re here.
Grace in the Disarray 