Hi, I'm Kayla.

I’m happy you’re here. I’ll go first: I’m a full-time journalist turned work-at-home writer. I’m hitched to a shaggy-haired pastor and we’re smitten with two wild + crazy boys: Joseph (4) and Asher (1). I drink strong coffee, I like pretty things, and I believe there’s beauty in the broken.

I hope this little space will encourage you to find worth and live a story worth sharing.

Let's do this.

What is Many Sparrows?

This little corner of the Internet aims to encourage women, spurring them on to find worth and live a story worth sharing.

God tells us He cares about the little things — even down to a teeny, tiny sparrow. And if He cares about a little bird, how much more does He care about us — who are worth far more than many sparrows? Let’s dwell in the truth that He loves us with an arms-stretched-out kind love. Let’s rest easy, knowing we’re valued, loved, and worth more than we can even fathom.

I’m a person who’s blemished and blessed. All good things in my life flow from Jesus. My mission is to reflect his generous, grace-filled love with all my heart, soul, and mind. I’m passionate about shedding religious cliches and living an authentic, Kingdom life. Sometimes I get frustrated and often times I fail. I’m a work in progress.

Find Your Worth & Live a Story Worth Telling


My heart is to use this corner of the Internet to make much of Jesus. To use my words to reflect the creator of all things who gives extravagant grace, who radiates beauty and light in a very dark world.


I’m a mama of two little boys, and sometimes I just need a space to talk about things like shift dresses and wedge booties and dry shampoo. Let’s share our secrets, shall we?


Motherhood is messy. My hope is that my words + stories can be an encouragement to you in your parenting journey.

Happy Thoughts

Couldn’t this world use a little more joy? Whether I’m recounting a sweet story or sharing a book review, maybe these little posts will bring some happiness your way.

blog survey and giveaway

Fringe Hours Giveaway Many Sparrows Blog SurveyI’ve been creating and changing this little corner of the Internet for five years. Over that time, I’ve entered and exited stages of life, and Many Sparrows has been an outlet to create content, communicate my heart, and connect with an amazing online community.

the survey says…

Some of you are new here, and some of you have been around awhile. I know your lives are so beyond busy, so thank you. I so value you, but the weird thing about the Internet is that I’m not always sure who you are! And as I dream up new directions for Many Sparrows, I need your help. Would you tell me who you are? And what makes you, well, you?

I’m doing a short blog survey to catch a glimpse into who you are and what content you connect with (and what you don’t!). 

giveaway time!

A book that has been so helpful to me as I spin lots of plates and try to schedule out my day has been The Fringe Hours by Jessica Turner. I read it last year and I’ve already been flipping back through the worn pages, gaining inspiration for using my time well. If you fill out the blog survey, you’ll be entered to win a copy, because I know you’ll love it, too. This isn’t a sponsored giveaway, I just bought an extra copy to share with a friend, and maybe that friend is you! To enter, just enter the survey below. Make sure to include your email address at the end!

i can’t wait to hear your thoughts

I value your honesty and I won’t share your answers with anyone. I’ll announce the winner Thursday, along with results from the survey. (My friend Natalie did this, and I found it incredibly interesting!)

If you don’t see the survey below, click here.

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the blog is back

when sponsored posts and SEO and blog stats turn into bloging burnout Many Sparrows Blog

Blogging is so weird. Like, I am 100 percent certain it is one of the stranger things in my life, and you know that my life is just chock-full of strange things.

Here’s the deal: I’m a writer. Words are in my bones. I started stapling together books and creating “magazines” while most of my friends were playing with Barbies. I was that girl. (Picture Molly, the American Girl, hanging out at the library, rocking cowlicky bangs and ’90s style like whoa.) I wrote and wrote and wrote my little fingers to the bone and that turned into penning columns in the middle school paper and that turned into editing my high school paper and that snowballed into a journalism degree and a career fueled with bylines and colored with blogs.

Writing, I just can’t quit you.

Except I did.

This summer could be called How Kayla Didn’t Get Her Groove Back. It was great season of loving my little people and praying through what God would have in store for our family, but the words just didn’t come. I continued to do my steady stream of freelance writing, but felt uninspired for any personal pursuits. I felt like MEH times a billion and it felt freeing and weird at the same time. Blogging had become more about promotion and page views than an authentic outlet. I found myself getting sick to my stomach wondering if I would offend someone, worrying constantly about how my words came across. This little corner of the Internet was getting sponsorship offers and higher stats than ever before, but I was spending more time hustling than I was writing. And that led to what it always leads to when something you love becomes something you have to do: Burnout.

The thing about burnout is that you’re not suddenly engulfed in flames.

It’s this sneaky slow-burn that creeps into your heart, whispering lies.

Whispering this is pointless. Whispering no one cares. Whispering your voice doesn’t matter, but maybe if you just shouted louder…

And slowly, parts of you start to turn into smoke, turning your passion into an illusion. And all you’re left with is a pile of ashes where that light used live.

As much as it hurts to burn out, those wounds aren’t fatal. And this summer was the time for triage. It was time for binding up the wounds and examining how deep they went. And that led to resting and finding restoration hidden in walks to the park and quiet moments soaking up the real-life goodness around me.

And now, it’s a new season. I’m energized and eager. I’ve reassessed this little space of mine and I’m excited to keep going, and with your help, maybe head in some new directions. I want more connection, less strategy. More truth-telling, less worry. More Kayla, the real Kayla. More of YOU, too. More stories, more humor, more tough stuff, more collaboration, more compassion, more real-life.

And even though I know Sunday afternoons statistically aren’t prime time for blog reading, I’m posting this anyway.

Because this little space isn’t about numbers. I’ve never been a numbers girl.

I’ve always been a word girl. Words are in my bones.

all of God’s children

#prayforcharleston All of God's Children Jon Foreman Hope Racism Many Sparrows Blog

That sweet boy up there? That’s my beautiful son who hasn’t yet experienced the dirt and pain of this world.

Sometimes, I can’t write. The crushing burdens of this broken world feel like they’re physically pushing down my words.


Because no paragraph can speak into the pain. Where do I begin? I’m just me. My voice feels false and weak and part of the problem, not the solution.

The problem is systemic and hidden and personal and overt all at once.

The problem is racism.

The problem is a word that everyone is acquainted with but no one wants to touch.

Not me. Them, sure, but certainly not me.

Couldn’t be me.

But it is. It is me. It is you. It is all of us.

Nine of my brothers and sisters in Christ were shot in God’s house because of the color of their skin.

This is not okay.

This pervasive culture of violence. The vile sickness of polarization. The bigoted stench of racism.

Not me. Them, sure, but certainly not me.

Couldn’t be me.

But it is. It is me. It is you. It is all of us.

I want this world to be better. I want everyone to know the deep and high and wide love of a God who came to earth as the least of these to bare the burdens of the weight none of us could on our own.

Among the shards of hurt, I have to believe in a hope.

A hope in a Creator who says, I made her. I made him. I made you. I love you. I love him. I love you. She is worth everything. He is worth everything. You are worth everything. I love her so much I will enter into her suffering. I love him so much. I love you so much. I will make things clean. And you can join me.

Are you really ready to pay for love if it costs you everything?

I’ve been listening to Jon Foreman’s new album The Wonderlands: Sunlight and when his song All of God’s Children began playing, I couldn’t stop listening.

Would you listen to this song? Listen and pray and listen some more? Listen to our brothers and sisters who have been shouting for so long, waiting for someone to listen.

I want to say, not on my watch.

I believe in a God who cares down to the last detail — down to the teeniest, tiniest sparrow. So I will care, too. I will use my voice and my hands and I will try. I will try to leave this world more united — more woven into the grace of God’s Kingdom — than how I entered it. I need to do this for my children. My family. My brothers and sisters in Christ. My tiny place in the Kingdom.

Peace on Earth.

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

May we be reconcilers. May we be people worthy of the calling.

Not me. Them, sure, but certainly not me.

Couldn’t be me.

But it is. It is me. It is you. It is all of us.

When the things that you can’t hold onto
Are the ones that you wish you could keep
Are you really ready to pay for love
If it costs you everything

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

I believe in a world that’s beyond me
I believe in a world I ain’t seen
Past the glass
The shotgun shacks
The violent, faceless, racist facts
I believe in a world that’s made clean

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

Underneath these scars
Underneath these wars
Underneath the bullet holes
We still don’t know who we are
It’s shining underneath

Oh I’ve been waiting for love to give birth
For new life to show pain it’s worth
Oh I’ve been waiting for peace on earth

Like a newborn child,
Like a newborn child
Shining underneath

Is there a well that won’t run empty
Is there a friend that can’t be bought
Will you find him when you’re thirsty
To learn the lessons that can’t be taught

All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

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hi, i’m kayla

I'm a full-time journalist turned work-at-home editor. I'm hitched to a shaggy-haired pastor and we're smitten with two wild + crazy boys: Joseph (4) and Asher (1). I drink strong coffee, I like pretty things, and I believe there's beauty in the broken. I hope this little space will encourage you to find worth and live a story worth sharing. Join me?


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My favorite part about writing is connecting with you! Whoever you are, wherever you are, you have a story worth sharing. Let’s talk.


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