The Original Intent
A letter from the founder.
For as long as I can remember, I have felt that there was more to life than the roles, records, obligations, and expectations we inherit along the way.
Not because every institution is wrong, or every structure is harmful, but because none of them can fully describe what a human life is.
Beneath all of that, there is something simpler.
There have been moments throughout my life when the noise seemed to fall away completely — moments of stillness, clarity, and wonder in which life felt whole again. Nothing needed to be proved. Nothing needed to be defended. There was simply the quiet recognition that life itself is a gift, and that what we are given carries with it a responsibility to care well for it.
I believe children understand this naturally.
There is a reason we are reminded that we must become as little children to enter the kingdom of heaven. I do not hear that as a call to naivety. I hear it as an invitation to recover something we once knew: how to meet life without cynicism, to seek truth without fear, to remain curious, and to recognize the sacred without needing to possess it.
That understanding is at the heart of My Mother’s Trust.
Every one of us entered this world through a mother.
Before we had titles, accounts, occupations, affiliations, or obligations, we were simply received into life. A mother carried us, gave of herself for us, and released us into a world she could not completely control.
There is something profound in that act of trust.
Our mothers did not bring us here merely to acquire, compete, accumulate, or spend our lives proving our worth. They brought forth men and [womb]men, even children of God — each carrying gifts, responsibilities, relationships, and possibilities that no document could ever fully contain.
My Mother’s Trust was created to honor that original trust.
At the center of it is what we call The Covenant of Stewardship: the recognition that our lives are not merely possessions to be exploited, but gifts to be faithfully tended.
Stewardship is simple in principle, even when life itself is not.
It asks us to care for our families.
To use our gifts well.
To tend what has been placed in our hands.
To make our word mean something.
To act without deception.
To leave what follows us better than we found it.
And ultimately, to remember that ownership is temporary, while responsibility is sacred.
This is not a promise of escape from the responsibilities of life. It is not a loophole, a secret formula, or a shield from consequence. If anything, genuine stewardship asks more of us. It asks us to become conscious participants in our own lives rather than surrendering that responsibility to someone else.
That is why I created the Scriptorium.
The Scriptorium is a place within our private fellowship where you can slow down, reflect, and put important things into words.
Who are you?
What has been entrusted to you?
What do you believe you are responsible for?
What do you hope to preserve?
What do you hope to pass on?
The tools within the Scriptorium are there to help you record those answers, organize your private affairs, preserve what matters, and express your stewardship plainly and honorably.
You do not need to arrive with everything figured out.
You only need to begin.
The Scriptorium is open.
Welcome back to what matters.
In fellowship and stewardship,
Jared
Founder, My Mother’s Trust
