Motherhood Isn't Hell It's Holy

Motherhood Isn’t Hell—It’s Holy

In a recent podcast, pop artist Chappell Roan made a statement that stopped me in my tracks: “Every mother I know is living in hell.” She went on to say that she’s never met anyone with kids who seemed truly happy.

And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it—not because I’m offended, but because it reveals something heartbreaking about the moment we’re living in.

This is the fruit of a culture that idolizes autonomy and fears anything that asks us to give of ourselves. A culture that views children as burdens, family as a trap, and motherhood as a loss of identity rather than a place where identity is shaped. When Christ is removed from the center of motherhood, all that’s left is exhaustion without purpose, sacrifice without joy. And that’s not the truth.

Motherhood is not misery. It is not a curse. It is not hell. It is a deeply holy. 

Is it hard? Absolutely. It stretches you in every way. But in the kingdom of God, hard is often where the gold is refined. The daily, ordinary, behind-the-scenes work of mothering is often the soil where the richest joy, deepest purpose, and most lasting fruit grows.

The mess of motherhood is not where joy dies—it’s often where it’s born.

We were never promised ease. But we were promised Christ. And in Him, the hidden, sacred work of motherhood becomes sanctifying. It’s where a woman becomes more like Jesus—through patience, perseverance, and love that costs something.

If some mothers are weary (and many are), our response isn’t to echo hopelessness—it’s to step in. To remind them that what they are doing is eternal. To lift up their arms and speak life over them. The Church is not meant to be silent while the world devalues what God has called sacred.

And here’s something else we need to say: the world is listening to how we speak about our families.

Mothers—our words matter. The way we talk about our homes, our children, our husbands, our days—it forms more than just opinions. It forms culture. When we constantly joke about how awful motherhood is, how drained and desperate we are, how our kids are driving us to the edge—others are hearing. Young women are hearing. The next generation is hearing. And it’s shaping how they see this calling before they ever step into it.

We can be honest about the hard without cursing the holy. We can share the struggle without dismissing the beauty. Let’s speak with reverence about what God has given us. Let’s talk about our families in a way that invites others in—not drives them away.

And to the women who aren’t mothers—whether single, waiting, grieving, or called to another path—you are no less powerful, no less called, no less needed. You are image-bearers, life-speakers, culture-shapers. The call to nurture, protect, and restore isn’t only for biological mothers—it’s for every woman who follows Christ. Your presence matters in this conversation. Your influence is active right now—not on hold. You don’t need to wait for a title to begin pouring out the love and truth this world so desperately needs.

To the women wondering if motherhood is worth it: It is.

To the ones quietly sacrificing in a culture that doesn’t understand you: He sees you.

To the ones raising children in faith and love: You are doing holy work.

To the ones nurturing the world in other ways: So are you.

Motherhood is not hell.

It is a high calling. It is joy. It is legacy. It is kingdom work.

And it is absolutely worth everything.

Let’s tell that story. Let’s live it. And let’s speak it boldly.