Inspiration – Prayers Over The Kitchen Sink

Things I Never Would Have Chosen

Help me write a Rosary of Stories!

This story first appeared on motherhoodthroughthemysteries.com

*Scroll to the bottom of the post for more information on sharing your story.

Motherhood has humbled me.

Not only in the body changes, the naked birthing, the being-covered-in-who-knows-what while putting everyone’s needs before my own, but in my expectations.

My motherhood journey started off on a dark and winding path: as a single teen mother trying my best to build a life for my daughter and I through a haze of heartbreak and post-traumatic stress.

With everything to lose and even more to prove, I dedicated myself to a stable path, studying and working in the medical field. I loved my job, worked well with the physicians, and enjoyed helping others. I wanted security, benefits, and all of the things necessary to provide. I didn’t realize it at the time, but choosing a career that required responsibility and projected professionalism was an attempt to build up others’ confidence in me.

A young mother has much to live up to.

Every move I made felt highly scrutinized. I was shunned by most of the moms at school and Saturday morning dance class and my friends just couldn’t relate. But I was blessed early on, meeting my incredible husband and soon after felt the Holy Spirit drawing me back to faith.

It took some time to get down the road, but once Jesus took the wheel, I knew we’d end up where God wanted us to go. We got engaged, got married, and had two babies in two years while raising my daughter. We all grew up together, grew in faith, and grew as a family.

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It was a beautiful time, but it held its challenges. The most difficult and enduring of these challenges involved my oldest daughter and negatively impacted her emotional well-being. For the first time in my motherhood journey, I was dealing with problems too big to kiss away. It was painful to watch my daughter suffer and not be able to fix it for her.

I bartered with God. We had come so far, finally on the straight and narrow path. Why would God allow this sweetest time to be shadowed by stress, worry, and pain? Why would He let our best-laid plans be overturned by psychological suffering and a worldwide pandemic?

This was my second chance!

I was following the path God brought me to. I wasn’t perfect but I was doing my best to live right. I understood the difficulties I had the first time around, but I was far removed from the sins of my past. I had cultivated a lifestyle I could only dream of as a full-time-working single mom. Staying home with my babies, serving my family and finding God amongst the pots and pans.

A cross had been placed upon my shoulders at a time when all I wanted to do was bask in my undeserved blessings. I learned that the crosses mothers carry for their children are the heaviest because they’re saturated in tears.

It was desperation that led me to adopt a regimen of prayer that included a daily Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet. It was then I began to relate to Mary in a deeper way. She knew what it was to watch her child suffer, and to grieve every stripe, thorn, and fall.

But there was always hope to light the way.

Motherhood has taught me humility. Not only in my life, but in my expectations.

I no longer think “I only want to be happy.” or “That couldn’t happen to me.”

Instead of thinking “Why me?” I think “Why not?”

Why Jesus? Why Mary?

I no longer let false humility hinder my prayers. I no longer try to earn the love of God.

For all is gift.

We often forget that following Jesus means following Him to the cross.

Where we nail our wants and desires. Where we pray in Gethsemane through blood, sweat, and tears, for God’s will to become our own.

I’ve learned that suffering is a gift. That we don’t change God when we pray; instead, He changes us.

Though there are still ups and downs, I’m happy to say that things have gotten much better. God keeps blessing us, keeps delivering on His promises, and always abides.

The thing about crosses is that they always lead to resurrection. Through grace, the instrument of our torture becomes the ladder we can use to climb to Heaven.

God brought beauty out of the ashes of that time. A richer prayer life, a Confirmation, a marriage proven strong enough to weather any storm.

And He brought me, you (yes, you!) and all the women who so boldly share their stories through our little storytelling apostolate.

Motherhood Through the Mysteries was inspired through that daily Rosary I took up, fueled by the hard things in my life. The things I never would have chosen.

Jesus and Mary showed me how to walk the hills and valleys of the human experience with virtue and grace. They taught me that humility has a lot to do with trust in God and His plans for us.

That no matter how heavy our cross on earth, a crown of glory outweighs it in Heaven.

Let us strive in hope, Sisters, to one day claim them, so that we may lay them at the feet of Christ, our King.

* Motherhood Through the Mysteries is a storytelling apostolate that connects the mysteries of the holy rosary to daily life through a Rosary of Stories. I am praying for 19 special women to share their experiences of motherhood and faith to create a new round of stories. If you’re interested in writing with us please email your inquiry at motherhoodthroughthemysteries@gmail.com by February 28th, 2026.

The Most Powerful Rosary

Telling the story of the most powerful Rosary of my life; Join the Rosary Confraternity!

As a cradle Catholic and a Marian devotee, I’ve prayed countless Rosaries. I’ve prayed them in good times and in bad, in sorrow and in joy. I’ve prayed them as a child, a young adult rediscovering my faith and a seasoned mother. But the most powerful Rosary of my life was prayed this past year.

It wasn’t in the car or in my bed, at the park or over the kitchen sink but a hospital room where my daughter lay on life support. When things became dire I called for spiritual help.

The Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate came to my aid, coordinating for my daughter a blessing by the hospital chaplain and an anointing of the sick given by a priest from the diocesan headquarters across the street. Father assured me that he would come to the hospital as soon as he could to pray with me and my family.

It was day two in the ICU and a sudden decline and iffy prognosis left my husband and I terrified. Naturally, we called our mothers. It just so happened that they arrived at the same time and in God’s perfect timing, the friar followed. We greeted them all with somber thanks in the cold, stark waiting room while a procedure was performed.

The friar offered words of encouragement and passed out Rosary beads of Marian blue, silver and white. Of course, I was already clinging to my own, a large, strand of wooden beads that had long ago been blessed. I asked for confession for my husband and I so that nothing would hinder our prayers. We received absolution in a small, adjoined conference room before heading back into this spiritual battle.

“The holy Rosary is a powerful weapon. Use it with confidence and you’ll be amazed at the results.” -St. Josemaria Escriva

Our group processed through the halls to my daughter’s room, which was directly in front of the nurse’s station since her vitals were so poor. I walked in and placed my wooden rosary in her hand. The moment it touched her, my husband exclaimed that her oxygen saturation spiked. Momentarily, the screen displayed a number much higher than the grim ones we’d been seeing— a spark of hope.

What’s that supposed to be? The body of Christ?

“What’s that supposed to be? The body of Christ?”

He said it in a mocking tone through a half-smirk, half-scowl, as he held up a round water cracker. He had plucked it off the slap-dash charcuterie board I set out for our Christmas house guests—him and his family.

He was Christian, like me, but made sure to let me know how he felt about my Catholicism right there in my own home. He preached his version of the truth, pulling up conspiracy websites and videos in the cracked-screen phone he shoved in my face.

He ruthlessly spouted lies and misconceptions about my faith but refused any healthy debate or reasonable discussion. He was too caught up in his ego trip, raining down fire and brimstone in my parlor, telling me to repent and follow Jesus.

If only he could understand that Jesus is everything to me–to us.

Sealed With a Cross

This article first appeared on CatholicMom.com

Please follow my writing there as well as the many wonderful contributors who share their hearts, talents and time for the Catholic Mom community!

Cait Winters tells the story of how her kids cheer her on through the Sign of the Cross.

It was lunchtime in the middle of a typically busy homeschooling day. We had spent the morning on a hike at nature co-op and still had math, cursive and reading to cover that afternoon. Homeschooling can be hard on a home (and a homemaker!) because most days, aside from my hardworking husband, everyone is here all day long. I wouldn’t trade this time serving my family for the world, but it often means cooking three meals a day and constant cycles of washing and drying to keep up our well-loved, humble home.

That morning I had overslept, being early-pregnant and tired and didn’t have a chance to unload the perpetual dishes. It was easy to leave and forget about the chores while on our hike but coming back to them was another story. The sink was half-full already, but I had hungry kids to feed, so I fired up the stove and sudsed up what I could. The smell of cooking was turning my stomach and everywhere I looked, my to-do list grew.

I did a swat-like Sign of the Cross, blessing myself as I caught my breath and forged ahead. The Sign of the Cross is a quick way for me to ask for heaven’s help without even saying a word. I broke a sweat but got through the chores, finally setting plates and drinks out for the kids and calling them to the kitchen table.

An Academic Faith: Thoughts on Life as a Full-Time Student, Homeschool Mama & a Perpetually Practicing Catholic

Last year, at four months post-partum with my fourth child, I returned to college. I took a semester off back in 2014 when I was still a single, working mom. It was to marry my husband. Soon children followed and love swept me away. Life at home opened me up to a deeper spirituality, homeschooling sparked a renewed love of learning and in 2024, I went back to school myself.

An Academic Faith-

When I was engaged to be married is when I really started to learn about the Catholic faith I had been born into. After having my first child young, I had a Baptist then non-denominational stint. It’s been said that the Church is a good psychologist and I wholeheartedly agree. Thanks to the sacraments, established by Jesus, I raised my daughter in the Church. Even when I denied my faith, I baptized her out of culture and a sense of familial duty. Perhaps the seeds of my youth were sprouting curious tendrils even then.

Our Miracle Part Two

We walked this broken road in April and May. The end of the homeschool year, the end of my college semester, Mother’s Day and her peers graduating all around me as she fought for her life. It was hard but we had hope that through this trial, God was making things new.

A good Prognosis-

From the powerful Rosary mentioned in my last post on, my daughter continued to improve. There were ups and downs and it wasn’t easy but, she was well enough to breathe on her own again. We were so relieved to see her awake and somewhat alert. The next few days brought many challenges, but her prognosis was good. There were a litany of tests and therapies: bloodwork, cultures, CT, MRI, X-ray, physical therapy, occupational therapy and so many doctors, nurses, aides and staff in and out of her room at a steady pace.

My prior experience as a medical assistant, though many years ago, served me well in understanding and handling so much information. I’d often be asked by professionals if I was in the field and it reminded me how no experience is ever wasted. Not even the career “given up” to be home with your kids. My spiritual life has grown so much through the years, more than I could have imagined as a baby Catholic re-vert. Though I was blindsided, God was not surprised. He quipped me with everything I needed to persevere and be strong for my baby.

A Baby and Other Blessings: Life and Family Update

People often discuss the sacrificial nature of bringing children into the world. The aches of pregnancy, the pain of childbirth, the toll it can take to meet the needs of the helpless little baby God has placed in your care. These are valid realities, understandable feelings, but what we don’t talk about enough is what a “cross” it can be to have to wait.

It’s Not AI, it’s the Great I AM! Welcome back to my blog, Prayers Over the Kitchen Sink ♡

1–2 minutes

Hi, I’m Cait let’s be friends!

Hello, friend! My name is Caitlin Winters, but you can call me Cait. I’m a wife of 10 years, a mom of four children from toddler to teen and a forest dweller living out my family dreams on Massachusetts’ beautiful South Coast. I’m a devout Catholic-Christian, stay at home-homeschooling mom and an Early Childhood Education student turned Psychology major.

I’m a writer and aspiring author and have had the joy of being published by some of my favorite outlets. You can find all of my pieces, where to direct inquiries and more by visiting my bio page: About Cait.

My writing journey started back in 2018 with this very blog. It was on the tail-end of the “mommy blogger” era and soon traditional blogging fell out of vogue in favor of micro-blogs on social media. That’s where I have been able to express myself, connect with many creatives and collaborate with some amazing people through the years.

However, social media is not like it once was. When I started writing publicly it was much more authentic. People shared snapshots of coffees and books, candid photography and raw in-the moment thoughts and feelings. These platforms have since been saturated by business ads, AI images and auto-generated captions. While socials used to connect creatives with audiences, these changes have cheapened the experience.

That goes for sharing as well. I feel the desire to resurrect my little corner of the internet to retain creative control, build something more substantial and connect with readers far beyond the scroll. I’m excited to have this chance to make content that is more worthwhile for myself and my visitors alike!

Despite these grievances, I’m still on social media so I can stay in touch with you! (My links and where to find me are at the end of this post!)

All Things New

Come now, let us set things right, says the Lord: Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow; Though they be red like crimson, they may become white as wool. -Isaiah 1:18

Daily Mass Reading for 3/10/2020: The day of my tattoo removal

Loving the skin I’m in. I’ve gone through phases with this concept. Over the years I’ve come to embrace my milky complexion, my freckled cheeks, even the silvery stretch marks on my thighs but one thing I always loved was my tattoos. Continue reading “All Things New”

See Yourself Through The Eyes of Love

Sunday morning I bundled up the kids & headed to Mass solo while my husband worked his 8th day in a row. I asked my oldest to help me wrangle the littles & prayed that things would go smoothly. Mass has been an exercise in humility lately trying to keep my 18 month old boy from bouncing out of the pews & not having my husband there as usual meant I was on my own this time.

Continue reading “See Yourself Through The Eyes of Love”