Before we begin: if you missed last Thursday’s post, in which I first broached this topic and explored my hangups around the question of “How have you changed in the last ten years?”, I invite you to start there before reading today’s reflections.

Ten years ago, it was the summer of 2015 and I was walking the seemingly perilous road of life as a new mom. I was mere months into motherhood, completely smitten with my precious firstborn but not entirely sure what I’d gotten myself into with this stay-at-home-mom gig. Having a child had brought up all my deepest insecurities and perfectionist tendencies; I desperately wanted to color within the lines, while not knowing what those lines were, let alone which colors to use. And yet, I was afraid to let others in on my struggles for fear that I might reveal myself to be the parenting fraud I secretly knew myself to be.

I remember sitting at dinner with a group of mom friends one evening when one woman (a mother of four young daughters) remarked on how funny her kids were and how much fun she had with them. I was taken aback by her comment because it had never occurred to me that the words funny or fun could apply to this stage of motherhood. Joyful, yes; purposeful, absolutely; but funny and fun (or any other lighthearted words) had not yet entered my mothering vocabulary.

Back then, I could not have imagined that ten years later I, too, would have joined the ranks of the Mom-of-Four Club, or—more significantly—that I would finally be able to apply words like funny to my own life as a mom. On the surface, my life with four is a LOT crazier and ostensibly harder. My time is no longer my own the way it was with just one infant to care for; now, my days completely revolve around my kids and their needs. Parenting four kids requires far more mental and physical energy, and I have yet to achieve the elusive Perfect Mom report card I’ve always desired. BUT I no longer feel the need to appear to have my “mom act” together. I’m a hot mess a lot of most the time, and though I don’t love that about myself, it’s no longer something I’m actively trying to hide.

Ten years into motherhood, I’m far more confident in this role in which God has placed me. I’m less selfish and tight-fisted about my schedule and my preferences and my ideas about what mothering should look like. I’m also more grateful and more fulfilled, more intentional about my time with them, and more clear on my purpose as their mom. The challenges are greater, but everything about my attitude and my approach to those challenges has changed, and that has made ALL the difference. Parenthood doesn’t feel light or easy, but it is certainly lighter and easier than ten-years-ago-Kendra would have imagined it could be.

It would be impossible to describe how I’ve changed in the last ten years without talking about the three extra kiddos we have added in the subsequent decade; of course I would lead with the mom stuff. But while evolving from “new-mom-to-one” to “seasoned-mom-of-four” is the most dramatic difference, there have been countless other areas of change. Our lives now are nearly unrecognizable from our lives back in 2015, and that’s mainly due to geography. It’s been more than nine years since we left our apartment in Southern California for a house in Central Texas. With that move came new EVERYTHING—not just new places to visit and shop and worship and do life, but also new friend groups and new family rhythms. The most notable of those new rhythms was Luke’s shift to working from home, which did wonders for our marriage.

California will always have my heart, but I’ve also grown to love much about the country life. It’s hard to notice—let alone articulate—the ways a person is shaped by their physical environments, but I’m certain that Texas has made an imprint: I still can’t bring myself to drop y’all into casual conversation, but every member of our family owns at least one pair of cowboy boots, and my kids spend Saturdays frolicking with chickens, so there’s no denying that SOME change has occurred. If nothing else, I know that nearly a decade away from southern California has made me far less less tolerant of bad traffic and far more comfortable with thunderstorms, winter freezes, and oppressive summer heat.

I have been on a circuitous mental health journey over the last ten years. Looking back, it’s easy to recognize the postpartum depression that descended on me in the months after Charleston’s birth, though I’m not sure I was aware of it at the time. I have had multiple bouts with depression in subsequent years, including the unique brand of sadness prompted by our secondary infertility in 2017-2019, as well as a mental breakdown in early 2021 that I didn’t think I’d survive. Therapy and antidepressants both played a role in keeping me afloat at various points in the past ten years. I continue to struggle with anxiety and depression, and I have ongoing challenges around body image and eating (something that I’ve dealt with since my teens), but I am able to see how God has carried me through similar mental issues in the past, and I trust that He will continue to do so.

I am grateful for the way my faith has developed in this past decade. I am a lifelong Christian, and I was definitely walking with the Lord ten years ago, but nowhere near as closely as I am today. I did not engage in daily prayer and Bible reading to the level that I do now, and my faith at the time had stagnated; I knew a lot about God, but I didn’t know HIM—sensing His presence, seeking His guidance—the way that I do today. My relationship with God has grown, as has my understanding of Him: our church experiences in the last few years have helped both Luke and me to solidify what we believe about God as we’ve begun to explore theology, apologetics, and church history. I love that Luke and I have been on this journey together, and we both have a renewed reverence for God’s Word and for passing the Truth on to our children. And for both of us, our shifting faith has had a ripple effect in our character and values as the Lord has gradually worked to bring our hearts and minds and beliefs more in line with His.

Since I’m sharing all of this in a blog post, it seems fitting to end with the ways I’ve changed in my approach to this space since this time ten years ago. Having begun blogging in August of 2013, I was already a couple of years into the online writing life. The internet was a different world then, as was my understanding of my own place in it. As with much of life, I hold blogging more loosely now. I enjoy writing more, while also dedicating far less time and mental energy to my blog than I did in the past. I would like to think that my writing has improved as I’ve grown into my voice and also become increasingly comfortable with sharing more vulnerably. My writing has evolved into a form of ministry, both to myself and to you who read here. But as a ministry, I recognize the Lord’s hand in it and am trusting His guidance over this space in the future—something I could not have said ten years ago, when the idea of stepping away from the blog, or even making changes to how I was writing, would have been paralyzing. (For the record, this is NOT an announcement that I’m closing my blog, just an acknowledgment that I am open to however it might evolve in the future.)

Looking back ten years inevitably invites contemplation about what the next ten years might bring. There is a lot of anxiety tied up in that question for me; it’s hard for me to imagine the good that may happen in ten years, and impossible to ignore the challenging and sad that the coming decade will inevitably hold. Realistically, these next ten years will likely be filled with beautiful times and terrible times, growth and setbacks, wonderful hellos and heartbreaking goodbyes—just like the last ten years, and the ten years before that. Only God knows all that is in store for me and for my family; I’m grateful that He will be walking with us in WHATEVER lies ahead.