Some mornings at my house look less like “family breakfast” and more like an episode of American Gladiators. (Yes, I just dated myself. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go watch it —you’ll thank me later.)
Picture it:Wake the Kids. Some of them are literally carried from their beds like reluctant Olympians being dragged to the starting line.
Then comes the next event: a marathon through breakfast where Tater Tot will only touch cereal, the boys insist on pancakes, Miss Bug won’t eat anything, Miss May is her own special negotiation, and Monkey Boy is demanding his bacon like a tiny drill sergeant.
Lunch is tossed into boxes and hopefully into the right backpacks.
Finally, it’s time for the grand finale: the car-loading obstacle course. By this point, I’m half expecting Ice to pop out and start shooting tennis balls at me.
And yet, somehow—miraculously—we make it.
Here’s the thing: the chaos is real. But once the car doors shut and we pull out of the driveway, it shifts. We listen to music. We talk. We breathe.
And in those few minutes, I catch the little nuggets of who they’re becoming.
- Bean Boy knows every single word to I Want It That Way (and sings it proudly).
- Miss May has moved on from rolly-pollies and is now into butterflies.
- Tater Tot can read an entire book by herself.
It’s like the noise fades just enough to hear the good stuff.
It reminds me of Deuteronomy 6:6–7:
“These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.”
God didn’t ask us to find the perfect, quiet, candlelit devotion moments with our kids. (Though those sound dreamy, don’t they?) He told us to teach and talk with them as we go about life.
Even in the carpool lane.
Even in the chaos.
Even between bacon negotiations.
Honestly, I think about the Israelites wandering the wilderness. Forty years of travel, tents, and kids asking “Are we there yet?” a million times. (Okay, the Bible doesn’t say that, but let’s be real—it happened.)
It was messy. It was chaotic. But it was also where God revealed Himself and reminded them of His presence.
Sometimes the most holy moments aren’t in the quiet—they’re in the shuffle, the waiting, and the in-between.
So maybe mornings will never look like a Pinterest chart of perfectly plated breakfasts and smiling kids (unless you count Monkey Boy grinning with bacon grease on his cheeks). But they don’t have to.
Because in the middle of our chaos, God is present.
And in the backseat singalongs, sibling squabbles, and butterfly obsessions, He’s giving us nuggets to treasure.
👉 Moms, where do you find those little “gladiator nuggets” of grace in your chaos?
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