As a Christian mum I decided to write letters to encourage other new mothers

When I was pregnant, one of the things that frightened me most about becoming a mother was knowing that my life was about to change, without being able to really see how. I knew it in theory - everyone was telling me - but I couldn’t picture it. There was no frame of reference, no comparable experience, just the awareness that everything familiar was about to shift.

Those early months of motherhood were full of joy I can’t put into words, but also harder than I expected. My daughter lost almost fifteen per cent of her birth weight due to feeding issues, which meant hospital visits and regular weigh-ins, layered on top of learning how to breastfeed - something I found incredibly difficult. I was also exploring my place in church and ministry again, asking how I could serve in this new season. Motherhood had always felt like my calling, something I had longed for deeply; but even good callings can be disorientating when everything else in life has changed at once.

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During maternity leave, I took voluntary redundancy, which placed me in a season of asking, “What next?”

During maternity leave, I took voluntary redundancy, which placed me in a season of asking, “What next?” I had prophetic friends pray for me, and the same words came up again and again: whatever came next needed to be creative, and it shouldn’t cap me.

So much of church and society assumes that mothers will quietly step back for a while. House groups often meet in the evenings, right at bath and bedtime. Serving becomes complicated, and devotional practices that once felt grounding can suddenly feel inaccessible. I was often stepping out of church with a fussy baby, sometimes into a side room with no audio or visual link. Even communion, on one Sunday, felt out of reach as I sat breastfeeding with no hands free, until leaders noticed and brought the bread and wine to me.

I began to wonder what it would look like to create something that was just for mums; something that didn’t need to be shared, didn’t take much time, and didn’t add to an already heavy mental load. I wanted it to be creative and physically easy to hold, rather than another resource that required screens, logging in, or holding with two hands. That is how Mum’s Got Mail was born.

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I think there is something significant about letters, especially in this season. 

I think there is something significant about letters, especially in this season. Many of us are craving a return to the analogue, to things that are slower and more tactile. Letters feel nostalgic and personal in a way that digital content rarely does. As adults, letterbox post is often associated with bills or demands, so receiving something kind through the letterbox feels really joyful! I have loved writing since childhood, scribbling stories sat on my grandparents’ floor with crayons, and now I write letters to my Granny. I honestly think there is something sacred about taking the time to put words on paper for someone you care about.

Each month, Mum’s Got Mail arrives as a small, pause in the day. The journalling prompt is optional; it can be written, or pondered while making a bottle or on the school run. The letters do not rush past the hard parts of motherhood, but they do not dwell there either. They are faith-filled, reflecting on a Bible verse or a way that God has spoken to me recently, without feeling like you’re reading a deep, theological textbook. I address the letters, ‘ Dear mum friends’, because I want them to feel familiar, like you’re receiving encouragement from a friend rather than a stranger.

READ MORE: Trusting God through the different seasons of motherhood

The response from mums has been really affirming. Words like “wholesome,” “so needed,” and “encouraging” come up again and again. Many have shared how meaningful it feels to receive something that is solely for them, something that acknowledges the holiness of motherhood without romanticising or minimising its cost.

Motherhood is a season of immense giving; time, energy, body, and heart are poured out daily. My hope is that, in a small way, a letter landing on the doormat might give something back. Not a task, not a challenge, but a reminder that God sees, understands, and meets mothers exactly where they are.