What My Daughter with Autism Taught Me at Karaoke Night
What started as a simple night out turned into a powerful lesson as a mom. My daughter—fearless, joyful, and beautifully herself—took the mic, and reminded me what true confidence looks like. A story about letting go, showing up, and the unexpected ways our children become our greatest teachers.
It was a random Thursday evening. Nothing planned, just one of those slow summer nights when you want to get out of the house, let the kids run off some energy, and enjoy a breath of fresh air as a family.
We ended up at Jail Break—our local Family Entertainment Center. The kids were excited for the playground, and Adam and I looked forward to sitting back for a moment, catching our breath (and maybe a drink), and watching them play.
We had no idea it was karaoke night.
But God did.
At first, our youngest, Gracelyn, was totally caught up in the playground. That’s her zone—climbing, spinning, bouncing, smiling ear to ear. But then a little boy walked up to the mic and started singing. And I watched something shift.
She locked eyes on him.
I knew that look. Her wheels were turning. I braced for the question I knew was coming:
“Why is he singing?”
“Can I sing too?”
Gracelyn was diagnosed with autism at age 3. Most who know me know her story—or parts of it. She is hilarious, kind, full of life, and completely unfiltered in the best way. But as she gets older, and her peers continue to grow past her socially and emotionally, I sometimes find myself holding back out of fear. Not her fear—mine.
As a mama of a child with special needs, there’s a protective instinct that runs deep. Not to stop her from being herself—but to stop the world from being unkind to her for it.
But here’s the truth: Gracelyn sees only the good. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks. She just is. And maybe… she’s got it more right than any of us.
She’s been slightly obsessed with “What Does the Fox Say?” for a while now (parents, you know what I mean). And sure enough, that was her one request for karaoke. And that was the moment my inner tug-of-war began.
Do I let her do this? What if people laugh? What if she doesn’t understand why they’re laughing? What if … What if… What if….
And then, as if God Himself sent backup, a man sitting behind us leaned over to my husband, Adam, and said,
“Just let her sing. It'll be fine. This is a family-friendly place.”
So we did.
She took the mic. She sang with everything she had. She didn’t just sing… she performed. The crowd clapped. They danced. They cheered. Some joined in. For those three minutes, Gracelyn was the star of the Jail Break party, and y’all—she owned it.
I cried.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three times.
Not out of sadness. But out of pure, overwhelming joy. There she was—fearless, happy, free. There I was—still learning how to let her be.
When she finished, she bowed and blew kisses like she was on the Grammys stage. Then she found that little boy who sang before her, gave him a high five, and told him he did a great job.
Who even is this child?
A teacher. A light. A reminder that our children, no matter what their journey looks like, are often our biggest teachers.
If I could give you one thing from this story, it’s this:
Let your kids be who God made them to be.
Even when it feels uncomfortable. Even when the world doesn’t understand. Even when your own fears whisper otherwise.
Because when we let go—really let go—we make space for them to shine. For their joy to spread. For their confidence to soar.
Gracelyn reminded me that night: It’s not about perfection. It’s about presence. About purpose. About joy.
"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." – Psalm 139:14
She is wonderfully made. So is your child. So are you.
And yes, sometimes that means belting “What Does the Fox Say?” in front of strangers and bringing down the house.
Let’s raise kids who know they’re deeply loved, unconditionally accepted, and created with a purpose.
Let’s raise kids who trust God and know the freedom of being exactly who He made them to be.
And maybe along the way, let’s let them teach us how to do the same.
When the Waters Rise: Holding On to Faith Through the Heartbreak in Kerr County
Heartbreaking floods in Kerr County took young lives at Camp Mystic. A faith-filled reflection on motherhood, grief, and trusting God's plan through tragedy.
This past week, Kerr County has been shaken by devastating flooding that has taken far too many lives. As someone who lives in this state, my heart aches for every family affected. But one piece of this tragedy hit home in a way I never expected—an all-girls Christian camp, Camp Mystic, was caught in the rising waters. In the early hours of the morning, little girls—many around the same age as my own two daughters—were swept into a storm they never saw coming.
Some were rescued. Others weren’t.
As a mother, it’s a pain too deep to name. The thought of young girls, asleep in the safety of a place meant to pour faith and fun into them, being woken to chaos and fear—it breaks me. And then, the unimaginable reality for the parents who received the news no parent should ever have to face.
It is heavy. It is hard. And it’s in these moments we’re reminded of a truth we often tuck away: we are never promised tomorrow.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18
As a Christian woman, I cling to the only hope that remains unshaken—Jesus. I will never understand why things like this happen, and maybe we’re not meant to. But I can’t stop thinking… I pray those precious girls, in their final moments, saw the face of Jesus. That as the waters raged, He wrapped them in His arms. That He whispered, “Well done, good and faithful servant... enter into the joy of your Lord” (Matthew 25:23).
That image is the only peace I can find in something so senseless.
In this space—Her Hudl—I often write as a coach’s wife, a woman of faith, and a mama who loves deeply. And this week, I write simply as a mother with a broken heart. A mother who knows how fragile life really is. One who is reminded that all the things we chase in this life pale in comparison to the one thing that truly matters: our relationship with Christ.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” – Proverbs 3:5
We cannot control tomorrow. We cannot protect our children from every storm. But we can prepare them for eternity. We can teach them to trust God, to walk in His light, to know His voice. I want to raise my daughters to love Jesus deeply—to be the light in a dark and broken world. Because one day, when they are called home (or when I am), I want us to see the face of Christ. Together.
So today, I’m holding my babies a little tighter. I’m putting down the distractions. I’m choosing what matters most.
Because life is short, but eternity is forever.
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain.” – Revelation 21:4
To the families grieving the loss of their daughters, I’m praying for you with everything in me. And to the mamas reading this—may we never forget what a gift it is to hold our children close.
Welcome to Her Hudl - Let’s Huddle Up
Hey there, friend!
I’m so glad you’re here. Truly.
I’ve had this idea brewing in my heart for a while—Her Hudl. A space for women who are showing up in the thick of real life: the good, the messy, the beautiful, and the completely overwhelming. If you’ve ever felt like you’re calling plays without a playbook, juggling life with a cold cup of coffee in hand, or wondering if anyone else forgets what day it is by 10am... then girl, you’re in the right place.
I’m Brooke DuBose—wife, mama, friend, and now your unofficial teammate in this season of life. Around here, I’m not about filters or pretending to have it all together. I’m about real talk, relatable moments, and encouragement that feels like a deep breath. I believe in honest conversations, practical tips, faith that grounds you, and finding joy in the middle of the madness.
So… What Is Her Hudl?
Think of it as your timeout, your locker room pep talk, and your group chat with friends all rolled into one.
We’ll talk about:
Motherhood (the kind that’s equal parts magic and meltdown)
Marriage (because love is more than highlight reels)
Faith (for the days you’re strong and the days you’re struggling)
Real-life tips (for the days when survival counts as success)
Community (because we’re better when we do life together)
Whether you're a coach’s wife, a sports mom, or just trying to keep your people alive and your spirit intact, this is your space.
Why "Hudl"?
In sports, a huddle is where the team gathers, catches their breath, gets on the same page, and goes back out with a plan. That’s what I hope Her Hudl is for you—a place to pause, reset, and be reminded you’re not alone.
So here we are—day one.
No pressure. No perfection. Just a place for us to be ourselves, grow together, and maybe laugh a little along the way.
Thanks for showing up. I can’t wait to walk this journey with you.
With love and sideline snacks,
Brooke
