Dena Dyer

Meet writer mom, Dena Dyer:
As a busy mom, wife, author, and speaker, I adore my life—but there are days when I definitely want my own mommy! Thankfully, I have God, my mom, and a Christian counselor on speed dial. I’ve been married to my soul mate, Carey, for ten years. We have two boys (who are ALL boy), Jordan , 8, and Jackson, 2, and we live in Texas.

Essays I’ve written have appeared in over a dozen anthologies such as Simple Pleasures of Friendship (Conari), The Heart of a Mother (Bethany House), Humor for the Teacher’s Heart (Howard) and Divine Stories of the Yahweh Sisterhood (Legacy).

My book credits include Grace for the Race: Meditations for Busy Moms (Barbour), The Groovy Chicks’ Road Trip to Peace (Cook/Life Journey) and The Groovy Chicks’ Road Trip to Love (Cook/Life Journey), both with Laurie Barker Copeland.

I was utterly exhausted. Our toddler, Jackson, had been waking up at night for weeks, and my system was totally out of whack. I felt weepy, helpless, and cranky.

When we tried to let Jax “cry it out,” even for just two minutes, he got so upset that he actually threw up. Talk about frustrating! I tried putting music in his room, giving him a teddy bear, even sleeping with him–and nothing seemed to work, at least for long. Whatever the reasons, he got into the habit of “night-waking.” And I didn’t know what to do! (By the way, my husband Carey was a great help. He was always willing to take turns getting up with Jackson, but even then, I woke up when Jackson cried.)

One night during that period of time, as I was rocking the little guy to sleep, I inserted his name into “Jesus Loves the Little Children” and sang, “Jesus loves the little Jacksons, all the Jacksons of the world.” I had done the same with my now-seven year-old. Like all children, they loved hearing their names.

On this particular night, Jackson began asking me to insert other names into the song, like his cousin Molly’s, or his brother Jordan’s (whom Jax calls “Da- doo”). And then he asked me to put my name in the song. And of course, to him my name is “Mommy.” So, to please him, I sang, “Jesus loves the little mommies, all the mommies of the world…” And I begin to think, “Yes, that’s right! Jesus loves all the mommies, like me.”

I smiled as I remembered that in my fatigue and discouragement, Jesus loved me the same as He always had. I continued singing, “Every color, every race,” and I thought of all the moms across the world rocking their babies and singing to them at that very moment. I realized once again what a privilege it was to be in the mommy-hood, even when it meant getting up at all hours. (At least I knew there were mommies in other time zones that were awake when I was!)

Looking at my baby, I felt a new kinship with my heavenly Father as He reminded me of the verse (Zephaniah 3:17) which says He quiets us with His love and rejoices over us with singing. What an awesome thought! He knows how we love our children and pour ourselves out for them, because He loves us even more—and He poured Himself out for us on the cross.

As I finished the song by singing, “All are covered by His grace,” I prayed, Thank you, Jesus, for loving mommies. Thank you for your love that surrounds us when we are scared, your grace that covers us when we make mistakes, and your strength when we are weak. I put my child to bed, grinning as a final thought crossed my mind: Just like moms, God is always “on call.” Now that’s a comforting thought!

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