Author & National Speaker Jodi Dauses

I can’t tell you how often I feel like I’m failing my kids.  Like….often. As in…ALL OF THE TIME. The list is long. I’m not feeding them organic enough. Not paying attention to their school work as attentively as I could. Not speaking as kindly as I want to when…

  Dear Self, 1. Please NEVER, ever drive your kids to school dressed only in your PJ’s. It’s simply a bad idea. One you will regret. Forever. You will swear that nobody will ever see you and that it doesn’t matter that you didn’t take the time to put on a…

On a Sunday afternoon this July, I laced up my running shoes in a cloud of desperation. My soul was on edge. The emotional euphoria, the gratitude I had been so struck with after weeks after recovering from emergency surgery, had seemed to evaporate as I leaned back into the real…

Last Monday night, when the guest speaker at the podium introduces all of us to her daughter-in-law sitting here in the audience, I gasp. Out loud. Emily.  I came out Monday evening, the first time I have been out past dark since my surgery seven weeks ago, because Aimee called…

In February, I was flat-out over it. Each weekday afternoon, 2:30 pm would come so quickly, feeling like one giant lackluster-ground-hog day. I would secretly watch the clock and inwardly sigh at what was coming. That time of day and the task of picking up our three oldest children from…

I haven’t wanted to write after my surgery. Not here. Not in my journal. Not in prayer. Not. At. All. 5 weeks ago, when I was in the hospital recovering, I secretly anticipated sharing stories on this blog of hope and relief following my difficult decision to have a hysterectomy. Words…

It was Day 13 of fever. High fever.  I tip-toed out of her room and quietly shut the door. It was afternoon and I hadn’t yet showered much less barely eaten. I was wearing my husband’s sweatpants. Days old mascara and brown eyeliner crusted in the corners of my eyes.  It…

I rock her back and forth. She sits nestled on my lap as we sway on this aging rocking chair; the one I snagged at an old estate sale a few years back. I almost overlooked it at first. It needed so much work. But after slapping on a few…

My stomach flip-flops when people ask one of my girls the innocent question, “So WHAT are you going to be when you grow up?”    Because let me tell you, I’ve learned the hard way that pursuing the WHAT is just fine, accomplishment and accolades and education are well worth…