I always like to begin and end the day with Mile Maker Grace a prayer or a devotional or a blessing because not only do moms need encouragement kids and dads and even pets do to.
The house was still dark when I opened my eyes this morning, but my mind was already awake, already walking ahead of me, already trying to solve problems I hadn’t even stood up to face yet. That’s how Tuesdays start around here — not with alarms or sunshine or birds chirping, but with the weight of the day sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for me to catch up.
So, before anything else, before coffee, before lists, before the dogs start pacing and Charlie starts moving and Bradley starts getting ready for whatever the world needs from him today, I sit in my chair and breathe. That’s where Mile Maker Grace begins. Not in perfection. Not in quiet. Not in a magazine‑perfect morning routine. It begins in the middle of the mess, with a blanket over my knees and a prayer that sounds more like a sigh than a sermon.
“Lord, walk these miles with me today. I can’t do them alone.”
Some mornings the prayer is long. Some mornings it’s short. Some mornings it’s nothing but tears. But every morning, it’s honest. And that’s the part that matters.
I pray over Charlie first, because that boy wakes up carrying more responsibility than most grown men. Two companies to run, a job to check in with, a fiancée to plan a life with, gaming lessons to teach, trips to organize, and somehow, he still finds time to help me run this house. I pray that he feels supported, not stretched. I pray that he remembers he’s still young, even when life keeps handing him adult‑sized tasks.
Then I pray over D, because if anyone walks more miles than me, it’s him. He’s got work, he’s got plasma donation, he’s got his mom needing him, he’s got us needing him, and people calling for honey-do jobs, but he still shows up every single time. I pray that he feels appreciated, not drained. I pray that he knows how much this family leans on him, even when we forget to say it out loud.
And then I pray over myself — the work, the deadlines, the Easter prep, the weight‑loss journey starting April 1st, the steps my Fitbit swears I never take, the moms who read these posts while hiding in the bathroom for five minutes of peace. I pray for patience, for strength, for wisdom, and for the ability to show up even when I’m tired.
Mile Maker Grace isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being willing. It’s about saying, “I’m here, Lord. I’m trying. Walk with me.” And somehow, every time I say it, the day feels a little lighter. Not easy — just lighter. Like the miles ahead aren’t mine alone to carry.
By the time the coffee is ready, the house is waking up. C is already moving. I’m already thinking about what the day will demand from not only my family but Bradley and my brother. The dogs are already pacing. And me? I’m standing up with a little more strength than I had when I opened my eyes.
That’s what Mile Maker Grace does. It doesn’t erase the miles. It just makes them walkable.
If there is something bothering, you or you or someone you know needs PRAYERS please leave me a comment, and my family will add you and yours to our Prayer list. We love you and we are grateful thankful and blessed your here to learn about my Circus and my Monkies.
Have a blessed day and we love you.
Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
