All in Motherhood

Restlessness + Coziness

But still, even on my very busiest days, I don’t like relaxing. I get restless in the morning drinking my coffee on the weekends, wondering what I’ll do to fill in my time without going to work. When I get back from school, I feel an insatiable need to tidy up every space I see needing my assistance before we make dinner.

Still Good

When my dad died, I received so many messages and letters, but one in particular from my brother-in-law has stuck with me. It wasn’t long, but this line jumped out of the paper: “He is still good.” And every time that I return home, I remember this truth. I intermingle with a family that has unhealed wounds, old arguments, and tensions, still recovering from the aftermath, but He is still good.

At Home

Entering into my grandma’s house with what would surely be the last time, I felt an overwhelming rush just in the smell of that home that greeted me with opening the door. I noticed all of the old, familiar, dear photographs on the wall and all the little trinkets of dogs and lighthouses and boats that she loved to keep. Touching her four-poster bed again, putting away all of her lockets and rings, gently packing away pots and pans and lamps and trays: it all was heavy, heavy, heavy with meaning.

On Rest and Guilt

ut when I stop the hurriedness of my life to play with Leo on the living room floor, to relax on the couch with coffee and a friend, to talk on the phone for two hours with my mom, to paint something that I have no intention of selling or photographing, it is a constant temptation for me to scold myself interiorally.

On Marie Kondo-ing My Wardrobe

It’s a good exercise in interior simplicity to say “thank you, next” to the parts of life, no matter how small and insignificant, do not spark that joy within you. For while material things cannot provide happiness, it makes more sense to me to keep only those goods that remind you of beauty and comfort and that invoke a spirit of intentional living and happiness, and to shed what does not.

Two Thousand Nineteen

In talking to a friend today, I realized all over again that having so many interests and pursuits doesn’t have to be a bad thing: to love many good things is to be alive. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by all that I want to do and know and accomplish, but I think the secret to contentment in it all is to be grateful every day for the things that impart joy, and to not be afraid to seek and love those things.

On Earthly Christmases

So, for all those Christmas mornings with my dad musing how special we all were, I have such conviction that his belief in the power of love was what he really meant all along. My family’s glory and uniqueness is really all that special, because we now laugh joyfully in the face of agonizing pain, we now continue to love without measure in the midst of bitter suffering. That is special. That is great. To have incarnational hope like this is radical.

My Non-Instagrammable Life

But you know what? I kind of don’t care anymore. I used to be paranoid about blasting my sometimes bland, sometimes messy, sometimes not so glamorous life on social media. Now that I think of building memories with my kid, and making moments that will exist only in our wild mid-twenties, I have become totally okay with the fact that my life doesn’t look like inside of a Gap catalog.

Leisure and Laziness, Etc.

Is there a difference between true leisure and laziness? Yes, I think so, but sometimes what is lazy one day can be leisure the next. It takes a close attentiveness to the rhythm of our lives to discern what it is we are supposed to be doing in the present moment. My dad once said that if he was asked what he’d like to be doing when the world ended, he would answer that he’d like to be doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing, whether that was relaxing or saving the world.

On Seasons

How precious and unique is each of these, and how foolish I would be to spend all of a season wistfully dreaming of the next. How silly would it be for me to dwell upon the deary or tiresome parts of each season instead of choosing to savor the very thing I was experiencing.

On Turning Outwards

As it turns out, serving and loving others is one of the best things you can do reassure yourself that, yes, I am enough and I doing good things. This call to be mother affirmed me from the inside out, even amidst the late nights and pumping in the break room and sleep deprivation.

On Fleeting, Beautiful Messes

So, I challenge you to take a few minutes to mentally open the painful wounds that we like to keep tucked away. Allow the realness of those memories to spark within you a deeper commitment to living with a breath of thankfulness on your lips, and recommit yourself to embracing the mess of your life, because it is within that beautiful mess that the precious moments of your life will come and go.