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Meg Marie Wallace

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keep it simple: our kids need two things |meg marie Wallace blog | parenting
Family | General | Mama Life | slider

keep it simple mama: our kids only need two things

I’ve never been good at gardening. Taking care of plants does not come naturally to me. What I really want is someone who understands the love language of nature to teach me what to do to keep my plants and flowers not just alive, but flourishing. It is easy to think that motherhood is like…

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9 reasons I responded : an open letter to a critic | meg marie wallace
Favorite Posts | General | Journal/Stories | slider

an open letter to a critic & 9 reasons I responded

Last night, just after folding the last few loads of laundry and putting the last kiddo to bed, I set my phone down to plug it in and noticed I had received an email. My blog alerts me each time I receive a comment and, although it was late at night and I shouldn’t have…

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the one thing guaranteed to end all marriages
Favorite Posts | General | Marriage | slider

the one thing guaranteed to end all marriages

This morning I woke up to a text I’ve known for months was coming… It read, “the divorce is done.” Despite the foreknowledge, the finality of those four simple words put an immediate lump in my throat and an ache in my stomach. Today my parents marriage of 44 years is officially over. The rings have been…

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Fitness | General | slider

Protected: introduction: fit for a purpose

There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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dear john | meg marie wallace | a open letter to the man i met today
Favorite Posts | General | Journal/Stories | Life | Marriage | slider

a picture of a life well lived: dear john

Dear John, As we unloaded the car and packed our arms full with pool toys, towels, bags, sunscreen, and snacks and walked up toward the gate we noticed you. You were sitting alone in the hot tub with no one else on the property. Our kids ran past you and my husband offered our normal…

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meg marie| free people dress and sweater from walmart; mixing and matching name brand with inexpensive
Family | Journal/Stories | Life | Marriage | slider

blog story

    Hi there!!!! Let me begin with extending a huge welcome! I’m so excited that you’re here! For those of you who are new here this current blog a spin off from my old blog called One Glass Slipper. I’ve transferred aaaaalmost all of the old content so don’t worry, you haven’t missed much…

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Real friends don’t just sit with you in the sorr Real friends don’t just sit with you in the sorrow.⁠
They stand up with fire in their eyes.⁠
⁠
They get angrier at what’s hurting you than you do.⁠
Not because they’re reckless,⁠
but because they refuse to be indifferent to your pain.⁠
⁠
They don’t minimize it.⁠
They don’t change the subject.⁠
They don’t offer a Band-Aid for a gaping wound.⁠
They say things like,⁠
“This should not have happened to you,”⁠
and they mean it.⁠
⁠
Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”⁠
And sometimes that looks like a casserole.⁠
But sometimes it looks like holy rage at injustice.⁠
Tears that fall as if the pain were their own.⁠
Prayers that feel like warfare.⁠
A presence so rooted, so unmovable,⁠
you remember again that you’re not alone.⁠
⁠
Real friends don’t just walk in when the world walks out—⁠
they barge in, armed with hope and grit,⁠
and start carrying pieces of the wreckage you thought you had to lift by yourself.⁠
⁠
They remind you:⁠
You’re not crazy.⁠
You’re not abandoned.⁠
You’re not weak for weeping.⁠
⁠
You’re loved.⁠
And they’ll carry that truth⁠
until you can carry it again yourself.⁠
⁠
So yes—thank God for friends like that.⁠
But maybe today’s invitation is simpler than we think:⁠
Be that friend.⁠
⁠
The kind who shows up.⁠
The kind who feels it all.⁠
The kind who lifts what isn’t theirs to carry—⁠
just because love says, “I’m with you in this. I’m not going anywhere.”
Where is home, really?⁠ ⁠ Is it the place we s Where is home, really?⁠
⁠
Is it the place we sleep?⁠
The walls we decorate?⁠
The photos on the fridge or the way the light spills across the floor?⁠
⁠
Or is it something deeper?⁠
⁠
I’ve been thinking about what I want to pass on to my kids—not just in words, but in the rhythms of our life. And I keep coming back to this:⁠
⁠
If your heart is anchored in Christ, you’re never really without a home.⁠
Even in chaos.⁠
Even in loss.⁠
Even in transition.⁠
⁠
Because home isn’t comfort, predictability or even a place.⁠
It’s presence.⁠
Not ours—His.⁠
⁠
When Jesus is our dwelling place, we carry home with us. Into every storm. Every move. Every strange season that makes us feel like strangers in our own lives.⁠
⁠
This is the kind of rootedness that holds when everything else shakes loose.⁠
It’s the gift I want to give my children.⁠
And honestly? It’s the reminder I need too.⁠
⁠
Because if Jesus is your refuge,⁠
if He’s the place you go to rest and be known and be held—⁠
then you are never far from home.⁠
⁠
No matter where you go,⁠
He goes with you.⁠
⁠
And that changes everything.
I used to think religion tasted horrible.⁠ Turns I used to think religion tasted horrible.⁠
Turns out…⁠
I was right.⁠
⁠
It wasn’t the Bread of Life that left a bitter taste—⁠
it was the additives.⁠
The flavor enhancers.⁠
The spiritual substitutes.⁠
⁠
The fog machines.⁠
The choreographed transitions.⁠
The emotional moments designed to look like awe, but are instead carefully curated, premeditated.
The buildings dressed like a daydream but are filled by those who create nightmares 
⁠
Somewhere along the way, we traded sacred for slick.⁠
We made the gathering a show,⁠
the leaders celebrities,⁠
the people spectators.⁠

Somewhere along the way the purity of the gospel was made to become fodder for entertainment—drawing sheep to earthly shepherds rather than the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit.
⁠
But what if it was never meant to be that way? Let me rephrase that—I know it was never meant to be this way. ⁠
⁠
What if the Church wasn’t supposed to look like a concert hall…⁠or a comedy show…or an entertainment venue…
but a living room?⁠
Not a stage, but a table?⁠
Not a crowd, but a family?⁠
⁠
What if we stopped treating reverence like a relic,⁠
and started returning to the wild holiness of ordinary, mundane genuine relationships where life is shared, forgiveness is extended and repentance is routine?
⁠
Worship that sounds like dishes clanking in the sink.⁠
Communion that happens over coffee.⁠
Confession that shows up in the driveway.⁠
Repentance not reserved for altar calls or mountain tops but held tenderly from across the couch.⁠
⁠
The simple church.⁠
⁠
Not soft. Not watered down.⁠
But simple—⁠
less production, more surrender…
Like the early Church—⁠
the original Church—⁠filled with those who didn’t gather for entertainment, but for endurance. 
⁠
They devoted themselves to teaching,⁠
to breaking bread,⁠
to prayer,⁠
to each other.⁠
⁠
No programs.⁠
No spotlight.⁠
Just people marked by His presence.⁠
⁠
That’s the kind of Church we ache for.⁠
Not a new idea.⁠
In fact, one of the oldest ones there is.
Making memories with all my people…staycation su Making memories with all my people…staycation summer mode is in full swing! ☀️🍉⛱️
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