Blog Posts by Rachel Pieh Jones

Citizens of Heaven

Rachel Pieh Jones

I spent a lot of my early years in Africa trying to create a home for my family. When packing, I agonized over how much of America to stuff into Ziplock baggies. I packed shoes in five sizes for the kids to grow into and rolled packets of taco seasoning inside the toes to save space. I thought about holidays and recipes and music and toys and books.

But then…

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Are You Mom Enough? (Mommy Wars)

Rachel Pieh Jones

I have spent 10 of my nearly 12 mommying years in Africa, so when an American friend mentioned the “Mommy Wars,” I had to ask her what that was.

Apparently, as she informed me, there is a perceived “mothering battleground” where moms pit themselves against each other over topics like feeding babies, choosing schools, eating healthy, disciplining children, and more.

Are You Mom Enough?

Time Magazine recently joined the fray…

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Flee to the Cross

Rachel Pieh Jones

Sometimes I like to think of myself as a refuge for my kids, a safe place they can run to from the storm of the world. I can hold them while they cry for friends back in Africa, or back in Minnesota, depending. I can kiss skinned knees and pray when the words of bullies sting. I hold the soothing power of band-aids and hot chocolate and tickles at the…

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Desperate, Breathless, Dependent Parenting

Rachel Pieh Jones

Some people tell me it is brave to raise my kids in Africa. They could get malaria or be bitten by a poisonous snake. They don’t have a Sunday School class. They can’t eat gluten-free foods. Their friends are Muslims. They live far away from cousins, aunts and uncles, and grandparents.

My initial reaction is to be tempted to say, “Well, I think it is brave to raise kids in…

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Fearfully and Wonderfully Drawn

Rachel Pieh Jones

I took Henry and Maggie to the pediatrician for their one-month appointment. Maggie wore pink pajamas and Henry wore blue pajamas. Yes, they wore their pajamas to the doctor; changing clothes wasn’t a priority. I don’t remember if I even changed my own.

The doctor looked at their charts. “Twins,” he said. “A boy and a girl.”

I nodded.

“Are they identical?”

“Um…boys and girls have different parts,” I said.

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Diapers, Nursing, Clinging to Christ

Rachel Pieh Jones

I don’t know about other moms, but something happens to my brain when I am pregnant or breastfeeding. It seems the larger my belly grows, the emptier my head becomes. Or that with each day of nursing, those brain cells are flowing out with the milk. I become forgetful and unable to concentrate.

It seems that now, six years after my last pregnancy, some of the cells are returning, but…

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