When Emotions Are Loud: Discerning God’s Voice as a Christian Mom
The reflections in this post are based on events that occurred years ago. Since then, my husband and I have been thriving in faith, family, and love for the glory of God.
“Mama!” my one-year-old son yelled. Dropping to my knees after running to his room, and there he was, giggling heartily with poop everywhere—yet another blowout diaper. “Oh, Kairos,” I groaned, frustration rising.
“Again, buddy?” After three blowouts before bedtime, the day had been relentless. I ran my hands through my locs, forced a cool smile, but I was exhausted and a little irritated. Babies don’t care about our tiredness—they crave our presence. Gathering what little energy I had left, I started his bath.
Reality Hit
This moment had nothing to do with the recent spat between my seven- and four-year-olds, the towering pile of laundry, or the stress of preparing a home-cooked meal. It was about the silent tension between my husband and me, about mourning my daddy again, and about the maniacal pressure to be perfect.
As I grabbed a diaper and a change of clothes, tears blurred my vision. Yet amid the chaos, I heard the Lord’s gentle whisper, beckoning me to pause in my soul. He had been calling me long before the day’s chaos took over, but my to-do list demanded my attention, and I didn’t want to surrender to His desire.
Finally, I placed Kairos in his playpen while I ran his bath. In that moment, I repented—for my anger at my baby for simply being a baby, for harshly punishing my boys without understanding why they fought, for the growing distance between my husband and me, for neglecting my grief and self-care, and for ignoring the Lover of my soul, who longed to hear my voice.
In that raw vulnerability, I realized that showing up for them—and for Him—was the only way forward.
Visual created to reflect this moment, with AI assistance.
Between the Lines—and Lessons to Learn
Let’s unpack the triggers, starting with the most important one.
Neglecting the Secret Place
My emotions and hormones were raging because I was pregnant while still breastfeeding my second son. Nearly a year after my dad passed away, I welcomed my third son into the world. Still overwhelmed by grief, I struggled with my mental health. My days overflowed with activity, and without solid routines or a strong support network, I felt lost, lonely, and completely drained. Quiet moments and personal devotion seemed like luxuries I couldn’t afford. When I finally tried to read the Word of God, my mind would wander, or a small voice would cry out for me, and I’d lose focus. I had no idea that God’s secret place could have been my source of redemption.
Although grief and postpartum don’t give us a free pass to leave the secret place completely, we do have permission to lean in differently. During these “nights of the soul,” I realized that spiritual neglect can arise from trying to go about our lives as we did before the transitions, forgetting that everything has really changed. If you find yourself neglecting the secret place, it’s not too late to come home. The Lord isn’t waiting to judge you for missed moments, rushed Bible readings, or even for trying to craft the perfect prayers. He’s ready to love you back to wholeness in Him. Let the weight and burdens of it all fall off you. This is when we can allow our hearts to trust that the Lord can and will meet us where we are. Everything begins to make sense when we start over with Him. Takeaway: Begin your day in God’s presence as a non-negotiable. As soon as you open your eyes, give Him thanks before reaching for your phone, husband, or social media.
Improper Grief and Neglecting Myself
I’ve heard of the five stages of grief, and understanding them helped me navigate a few challenges early on, but something still felt off. A few friends often suggested I see a Christian counselor, but I wasn’t ready then. I ended up burning out from neglecting myself—something I’d done before, but it worsened during that season. I believed I had to be strong, but carrying all that weight was tearing me apart. As a friend once said, ‘Grief is love with no place to go,’ and I was reaching my breaking point. It’s strange how grief, chronic stress, and self-neglect can distort our view of reality.
I cannot stress enough the importance of grieving well. Not many of us learn how to practice this. This often leads us to neglect ourselves, because we’re sometimes grieving not just a person but also seasons. Although seasons are cyclical, they are not identical. For example, a wintry season in a veteran, healthy marriage doesn’t look like a winter season experienced in singleness. Sis, join me in choosing to see that you’re worthy of care and of receiving grace and compassion. Don’t allow hard seasons to strengthen debilitating lies from the enemy. As you allow yourself to grieve, take inventory of stressors and learn how to handle them. Stress can overwhelm, overwork, and even kill you. I know what I’m talking about because I’ve been there. We’re not God, nor are our loved ones, and none of us can fix this on our own. We can learn to see ourselves as the Lord sees us by spending time with Him and in His Word. Takeaway: If you’re dealing with grief and/or self-neglect, admit it, and then ask the Holy Spirit to help you. He may lead you to a counselor, a life coach, or another trusted source to help you navigate this season. Whatever method the Holy Spirit shows you, willingly obey Him.
Marital Misunderstandings
During that dark season, I felt misunderstood. It seemed like it was never enough—never enough of me, never enough for us. I don’t have receipts, but I do keep mental ledgers. Everything I envisioned for us felt out of reach. Desperately, I wanted to go back to how things were at the start, but we’re not the same as when we first married—and that’s a good thing. We’re meant to mature, grow, and sharpen each other. Still, this felt different. I’d tell myself to hold my tongue or not react, to respond with love—but I didn’t want to listen. I felt justified because I was overwhelmed, overstimulated, grieving—not just for my dad but also for myself. I didn’t know how to communicate this to him or anyone else. And because my heart was so heavy, I rarely stopped to consider how he might be feeling amid all the chaos.
Unprocessed pain is so telling! We were both going through the gamut in different ways, without knowing how to embrace each other during the storm. My gauge was my memories rather than the Holy Spirit’s help in keeping us tender with each other. Sis, the beauty isn’t in revisiting or recapturing who we were at the beginning. The glory is always in growing and healing together. Even when we are the ones primarily going through a struggle, our mates are experiencing things as well. We have to remain sensitive to them. Process the pain together in full transparency and vulnerability, if possible. If not, allow the Lord to guide you so you can heal and see your marriage from God’s perspective. Takeaway: Every kingdom marriage that God has ordained will be refined by His fire, not to break us apart but to rid us of what doesn’t serve God. Pray for His wisdom to communicate in a way that helps your spouse truly understand what you’re saying, or your intent when you’re silent.
When Children Misbehave
Honestly, I sometimes felt like I was raising little terrors. My children would be at each other‘s throats, and it often seemed like chaos was everywhere—manifesting as anger, fear, rejection, and manipulation. I was left scratching my head, wondering what was really going on. One of my girls told me that children often act out when they sense evil forces but lack the words to articulate what they’re experiencing. The Holy Spirit gently nudged me, reminding me to pray and trust His plan. I wanted a quick fix, but I knew I had to process my own feelings first, because my discernment was still weak.
As I look back on parenting while grieving a parent and my life, I see so many things clearly now that I didn’t understand then. Hindsight is great, but foresight and insight? Even better. Mama, I know it can be painful to watch the children misbehave, but we owe it to them to discover what is going on at the root, where the heart is. We lead them best by our example, not just our words. When the misbehavior feels too much to address, release your personal emotions and engage anyway. These children need our guidance, loving discipline, and correction, no matter how empty we feel. Takeaway: Even in painful seasons of grief, choose to invite your husband to help hold things together with you—they are his children, too. Let go of being the strong one, so he knows that you want his strength. You don’t have to raise your children alone when married, so don’t. Remind him how thankful you are for his love and understanding, and give him space to train the children in his way, as long as it aligns with what the Lord desires.
Visual created to reflect this moment, with AI assistance.
Honestly, these moments weren’t solely about diapers, disagreements, or grief. They centered on discernment. When emotions surged, everything felt urgent, overwhelming, and justified. Yet when I paused, repented, and redirected my heart to the Lord, He steadied me and provided clarity. He never condemned me; He took His time with me.
Love, not every feeling warrants your agreement, nor does every reaction require engagement. Yet, the Lord’s voice will always guide you back—toward peace, clarity, and love. When life overwhelms you like a blowout diaper, resist reacting impulsively. Instead, take a sacred pause and patiently await the Holy Spirit’s whisper. He’s been present all along.
Take a moment today to ask the Lord: “What emotional responses have I been holding onto that I need to bring back to You?” Feel free to return and share your insights in the comments.
