Our work in the home looks hidden. Much of it only we see. It is overlooked and invisible even too those who live with us, who benefit from the work. Therefore, it’s tempting to look at the chores to be done and think, “No one will even notice if I get another day behind on the laundry. No one will even notice if I shine the sink. No one will even notice if I clean out the fridge or not.” And then it’s just a short hop to, “So why should I?” 

The world today is not short on conveniences, on technological wonders, on methods for instant gratification of nearly every whim. The world *is* short on meaning, and those two trends are intimately tied. When your own hard work is required for yourself and others to survive, you don’t struggle with meaning. This is why, historically, cultures operating at the thin edge of subsistence don’t produce art, free governments, or philosophers.

Indeed, leisure is the basis of culture, as Josef Pieper’s little book reminds us. A society must have enough food and goods for at least some of the population to think beyond today’s needs, to expend energy not on survival but on beauty and justice and truth. It is basic economics. Leisure isn’t laziness. Leisure is the attention and energy of your mind being directed to higher things beyond survival. As my husband likes to tease me, “Your leisure sounds a lot like work to me.” It’s true. It is. It’s just work of a different kind.

Today in the West it is almost as if we have come full circle on that economic necessity. We have so much cultural wealth and luxury, so much beyond bare substance, that we are numbed to work itself and therefore have neither satisfaction in necessary work nor in contemplative leisure. Both seem beyond our reach as our needs are easily met and our minds are easily distracted. What is left? Numbness. Thoughtlessness. Meaninglessness. Psychotropic prescriptions and psychoactive self-medicating abound in alarming numbers. It’s no wonder.

Humans were made for a purpose, and because the culture has denied that there is a God, the culture has denied both purpose and humanity itself, since both come from God alone. Hence, all things unravel, including even the basic morality that was supposed to be inherent in humanity itself with or without God. Oops. Got that one wrong, didn’t we?

So how does this tie back to our everyday chores and being behind on the laundry? I promise, it does tie back.

For the last hundred years, feminists have painted housework as mind-numbing, menial, meaningless work that women must be liberated from. Many women have liberated themselves at least from caring much about it. Some of them have freed themselves of it entirely by hiring other women to do it for them. Are women happier? No, not at all. In my experience, the happiest women I know are stay-at-home moms.

However, I’m not saying, not by a long shot, that *all* stay-at-home moms are happy. Many moms stay at home yet still struggle. They assume the work they chose was the easy, mindless path — that’s what they were told. Then it turns out to be hard, but all it is is laundry and cooking and dishes. How could it be hard? Why is it hard? Something must be wrong. 

Such women are still caught in the trap of feminist assumptions, even while rejecting feminism with their mouth and lifestyle. Their hearts and minds are not yet free.

Everything worthwhile comes from hard work. Man (as in, mankind, both men and women) was created for work, was created to take dominion, not to take it easy. That dominion work was already work before the fall. After the fall, it all got harder. Our creational purpose, however, did not change with the change in circumstances. We’re not supposed to undo the fall — that’s what Jesus does. 

We are supposed to still work, and work hard, with humility, taking dominion and increasing in the land. When we work with that mindset, in knowing accord with that design purpose, the exact same work that was once dull and mindless becomes infused with meaning and even delight. The work doesn’t change, but we do. 

We can’t have either satisfying hard work or culturally productive leisure without living joyfully under the reign of our King, in the purpose He made us for. The more we understand and love that purpose and design, the more the work before us is transformed. It doesn’t change in its nature or essence, rather we finally perceive its true nature and essence and realize the reality is glorious — like Elisha’s servant going from terrified to confident when his eyes were opened to see the reality of God’s presence and control in his situation. 

Stay-at-home moms, particularly when homeschooling, have an incredible blend of the life of both meaningful work and meaningful leisure. We are building little microcosms of society that will expand and radiate out in unexpected, unpredictable ways. If we leave our children to their own devices (particularly devices with screens), ignominy and shame will come hurling back on our heads. If we bring up our children and educate them into reasonable, charitable, thoughtful, knowledgable discussion, we will be both alarmed and blessed in the way God intends to use that in the world. 

Culture starts in the home. Culture radiates out from homes. Just having an intact family and vaguely conservative feelings will not produce good fruit. That might be so much better than all you see around you, but it is not adequate. Without strong defenses *and* strong offense, your children will be captured by whichever corner of the internet they fall into. Your children will not stand with you at the gate just because you birthed them and fed them. They are likely to stand with the enemy at the gate unless you bring them up in the full and complete nurture and admonition of the Lord. God has told parents what they must do, and if we ignore His wisdom and His call, we will suffer shame and defeat. 

Of course, God’s way of winning involves good men dying. So we’re not playing a safety game. Our mission is so much bigger than that. God uses the weak things to put to shame the wisdom of the world. The weakness of a lone mother at home, just doing the dishes and paying attention to the ways of her household—with intensity and design, even when it’s painful and difficult and messy—grows up into something no one, not even the mom, but only God, saw coming. 

Dig in, mom. Your work matters. Keep your ears and eyes and intuition on alert and do not be numbed yourself by your screens. Pour yourself into real work and real people. Do not let your children be captured by any other culture than Christ’s. You and your children are Christ’s, you have His help in this incredibly challenging work. Accept the challenge and be satisfied in Christ, who gives us good work to dedicate our hands and minds to.

I recognize most moms like myself prefer to take the ostrich approach to the news and social media hubbub, a tactic I generally endorse. We have too much work on our hands to be fooling with rage bait. 

But if perhaps some of the latest commotion has hit your radar, you might be aware that questions regarding headship, women’s roles, and the nineteenth amendment are topics du jour, following CNN’s piece on Doug Wilson. 

I heard one commentator on the piece voice concern that a comment like, “Women are the kind of people that people come out of,” indicates a view that a woman’s job is primarily having babies and cooking meals — the typical “barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen” view of women that gives feminists nightmares and fuels their tirades. 

First, that sentence was clipped and delivered in the piece as if it was the one and only statement about women Wilson had to make, which is not true. Second, people’s responses to the expression are telling.

I honestly have a hard time hearing the statement as derogatory at all. It only sounds like “women are breeders” to you if you think of humans as equivalent to animals. Is our reproduction and motherhood the same as any mammal? You have to think so if you’re a Darwinist.

As Christians, however, we cannot think it the same thing to have a little of puppies and a family of children, immortal souls created in the image of God. To be entrusted with the formation—physical, spiritual, and emotional—of several other image-bearers of God who will live forever in either heaven or hell is no demotion. 

Does any career really compare to that? Where are those businesses and profits without people? 

The trope feminism has taught us is that thinking of women as mothers, encouraging women to be mothers, or generally elevating and celebrating motherhood is denigrating of women. It’s an oppressive, regressive perspective according to the feminists. Girls ought never to plan on being mothers, but always make some other plan because being dependent on men is the worst. Don’t let your girls voice a desire to get married and have children, but force them into first preparing for a career and letting marriage and babies follow later if they really want to. 

Culturally, we encourage our girls to give their prime childbearing years to some job, parties, and travel. Reality check: Our bodies were designed to have babies in our twenties. Which is more meaningful and satisfying twenty years later: staying up all night with friends at a party or being up all night with a sick baby?

In your twenties, you can stay up all night with such better recovery the next day than you can in your mid thirties and early forties. Of course in the moment, the party is more fun than the baby. But twenty years later, you probably don’t remember the party, but the mother will have a companion whose company is a delight and who pays back those sleepless nights with grandchildren.

If we are going to reexamine our assumptions about women—and we should—if we are going to reject and detox from feminism—and we should—then we need to spend some time thinking about and even celebrating the ways women are different from men and why the work that has traditionally been known as “women’s work” is not actually demeaning or oppressive.

Are women “just” for having babies and cooking meals? Of course not. 

But who taught you to put that “just” in there? What does it indicate? 

I think anyone who talks about “just” having babies or “just” cooking meals has no clue about what either of those activities actually is and means.

I know when I was in my own bad attitude phase of homemaking, I thought of both (along with sweeping and scrubbing toilets and moving laundry) as “just” work I had to do because I got stuck with it. 

In fact, at the time while I was trying to solve my homemaking problems in my twenties, I picked up fundamentalist articles purporting to be anti-feminist that simply accepted the feminist definitions of patriarchy and femininity and said “yes, only” instead of “no, never.”  The overarching theme I picked up from the articles was that God made man to do big important things, to take dominion, then realized man would never be able to do that unless He also made someone to clean up after man and make his food. That’s basically the way the feminists interpret and define patriarchy, and that (now defunct) group accepted the feminist story, adding, “And we should like it.” 

Actually, it’s not the definition of patriarchy or the proper interpretation of Genesis 2 at all.

Let’s think for half a minute about what children and cooking are really all about so we can remove that “just” thinking inculcated so insidiously.

Women are mothers

Feminists have insisted for about 100 years now that we absolutely may not elevate motherhood. They work at stamping it out through birth control and abortion and singleness. They insist that motherhood holds women back and is a tool of oppression by definition. We aren’t supposed to celebrate it or honor it (except *maybe* on Mother’s Day) or talk about how fulfilling it is. 

Doing so would make women who can’t (or won’t) have children feel bad, so we’re supposed to keep quiet. A career is better and more valuable to society, feminists believe, so we have to ignore and minimize motherhood because it inhibits and generally replaces careers.

If we’re going to reject feminism—and the current cultural indicators are that we might be doing just that, praise the Lord—the fastest and easiest and most traditional tactic we can take is to not be ashamed of motherhood, but rather give it the place of honor it has always held in the Christian West. 

What of the women who have chosen not to have children? Maybe they should be embarrassed. Better for society if they are embarrassed than that the delighted mothers be shamed on their behalf. The truth is that careers are not better for society than motherhood because there are no careers and no society if there are no people. One clearly supersedes the other in necessity, even if we were pure utilitarians.

What does it mean to be a mother?

It means “being everything to someone” as G.K. Chesterton put it. It means being entrusted with the future. It means shaping culture. It means having a stake in eternal souls that sprung from your very body. How can anything compare?

Without children, there is no future. The way the children of today are raised will determine the quality of society twenty and thirty years hence. 

Want to change the world? One of the most effective means available is to intentionally raise a handful of children up into grounded, courageous, educated adults. Families are effect multipliers. My husband and I spend 20-30 years investing in our children, and before you know it our 5 becomes 25 (not yet, only two so far).

Those 25 grandkids could easily become 125 great-grandkids, many of whom I could still feasibly know because I spent my twenties having babies and my children appreciate it and share my priorities. 

What is a promotion, recognition, or pay increases when compared to being stopped at the grocery store by an acquaintance who says, “Oh, I appreciate your son so much! He is such a good, kind piano teacher to our kids!” Or to walk into the coffee shop where your daughter works and see her relied upon as highly competent as well as a wise-beyond-her-years friend. Or to pick up your high school son from camp and have the counselor run up to let you know that he was an asset to their team, keeping spirits up and morale high even when everyone was getting tired. Or to have your middle school daughter relied upon as a capable, cheerful mother’s helper (even though she’s a youngest, not an oldest!). Not to mention the son and daughter-in-law who made me a grandma at 42, teach their one-year-old self-control, and feel free to ask for last-minute babysitting. It’s all incredible.

The reward of motherhood

No rewards compare to the rewards of the mother seeing the long years, hard work, sleepless nights, and hard conversations pay off. It happens by faith and by God’s grace alone, but it also doesn’t happen because parents “let go and let God.”

Faith and grace and gratitude fuel the difficult decades of work that is the personal investment of developing 3 or 4 or 5 or more souls into mature, faithful adults. You need faith because at many points it looks like it’s not working out, the sin (whether theirs or mine) is too much, or maturity will never come. Faith looks not to the seen, but what is unseen: God’s call and God’s faithfulness. 

Do I care now that I didn’t participate in the college party scene, but instead got a degree as quickly as possible, marrying before finishing the degree? Do I care that I haven’t travelled? Do I care that I never had a “real job”? Absolutely not. I “hid” in my home for a dozen years, “without a life,” but those seeds I was planting and watering are now bearing abundant fruit—fruit I did not even foresee or guess at except vaguely. 

When you are forty, when you are fifty, the work of motherhood will still be paying off. It will provide fresh satisfactions and joys—as well as heartbreaks—that no career or travel or party life can match. 

It’s the truth. No apologies. No embarrassment except the embarrassment of riches.

There is no “just” to staying home, investing in a growing family. 

Mothers without children

Yet there are women who either for a season or a lifetime do not have children of their own. So are they just left out of the one crowning joy of womanhood? No. Motherhood is essential to femininity, but it is more than having babies like mere animals.

Motherhood is caretaking, nurturing, pouring yourself out for other people so that they live better, more whole lives. In the process, we do as well. We pour ourselves out and there find ourselves, not lose ourselves as feminists claim. 

This mothering instinct is why women can become so essential in offices and businesses of all kinds. We attach, bond, and feed, even up to our whole selves. Let’s acknowledge that the way a woman works and the way a man works even in the same job, same position, is different. We can then better appreciate it and understand it. 

Our society needs metaphorical mothers to care for the elderly, for the sick, for the needy. Our churches need metaphorical mothers to notice needs, beautify buildings and tables, feed and care for one another, and pass on practical wisdom from one generation to the next.

Women are mothers. Let them mother. Women don’t need a fulfilling career necessarily; instead, they need a fulfilling place to invest meaningfully in people — and such places abound. While still single, while waiting for children, and after the children are grown and gone, women are most satisfied and effective when they find places to invest in people.

Women are cooks.

Ok, ok, so raising immortal souls is one thing, but what about the “barefoot in the kitchen” part? Is that really what women should be spending their time on? Sure, some like it and can pursue it as a hobby or even a job, but do all women have to be relegated to providing food three times a day for people? Isn’t that a waste?

But what is making food but the quintessential way of nurturing and growing other people? Food feeds people physically, emotionally, and relationally. What we eat shapes who we become because nutrition makes a difference.

How we eat shapes who we become as well. The company we keep during meals, the manners we have while we eat all shape our perceptions of the world and our interactions with others even apart from meals. Socialization doesn’t happen at school. It happens at the family dinner table. 

Food and table are basic building block of culture. Women have been entrusted with cultural formation from time immemorial. To them belongs the everyday traditions of food, the expressions of manners, the social networking of sharing meals in the home, and all that beyond the inherent value of simply keeping a house full of people from starvation with her love and oatmeal and casseroles.

Kitchen work is no “just” any more than motherhood is. Indeed, it is a further extension of motherhood in its role of nurturing and feeding. Beyond that, it is where culture itself is grounded. Sticky culture that lasts for generations doesn’t happen in the isolated artist’s studio.

His art, in reality, is an extension of his upbringing — his mother and the way he was fed and socialized. He’s either manifesting it and extending it with his art, rebelling against it, or yearning for that missing essential in his life. 

Sticky, generational, traditional culture starts in the everyday kitchen of everyday family life. 

Want to change the world? Have children and feed them.

Want to change culture? Want to do culture-building? Make food and have people around your table. 

Without people, there is no culture.

Without table traditions, there is no culture. 

Culture is in the hands of mothers, which is why we must throw ourselves with enthusiasm into the work, refusing to be embarrassed and shamed out of it by feminists. If we’re not actively doing it ourselves, then at least honor it and shame those who would shame mothers out of their dedication. 

Want more dinner prep help?

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This week I started my eighteenth year of homeschooling, counting from the year my oldest turned four and I began my first overambitious morning time plan. My homeschool now looks so much different from those early days. The children are three times as big and the baby that I had that first school year is now starting college. Once again, she will be in my home but not part of the homeschool rhythm. 

Instead of sitting at the table with open books everywhere, plotting out reading schedules and putting together plans, I opened up old files and cut and paste columns of page numbers. I took the checklists from last year and changed the book titles. I guess I made good enough homeschool plans in the past that now homeschool planning has become boring. You can hardly call it planning, unless you take a look at my weekly time budget. That piece definitely gets harder with teens!

About a decade ago, when I was barely thirty and in the thick of the glory homeschool days, explaining my thoughts and plans to a friend, when she made a keen observation. She said, “You know, I’ve noticed something. All the young moms with five and six year olds are the ones who desperately want to know everything about education and homeschooling. The moms with kids around ten years old are eager to tell the younger moms the best ways to do everything.” At the time we had this conversation, this is the stage we were at.

 She continued, “It seems like they like to get as many others as possible to do what they’re doing. Then the moms with teens almost never give you answers to questions about specifics. The moms who have graduates and who we really should be listening to, seem to avoid talking about homeschooling and parenting all together.” She didn’t draw any conclusions afterwards. My friend is an astute observer and insightful generalizer, which makes her very fun to talk to. She was “just sayin’” as my kids now would call it.

Of course these observations are not universally true. It’s not like every mom homeschooling elementary kids is a curriculum evangelist. However, it does seem like the majority of curriculum evangelists don’t yet have teens.

Now, I’m speaking as someone who has been reading and writing and sharing about homeschooling for nearly twenty years. I’m in my forties and sharing my observations. It’s really not an age-of-the-mom thing, but rather a life stage thing, and we all hit different stages at different points (or even skip some stages entirely). Many moms are my age but haven’t quite hit the mom-of-teens stage, much less graduate and grandma stage. 

I remember puzzling over and even being frustrated over the lack of women in later stages sharing about their homeschool. You can follow any number of moms with young kids homeschooling. Watch their stories of average homeschool days. Hear why they picked this or that curriculum.

But where are the moms with older kids still sharing all the nitty gritty details? These days there aren’t none. Sharing on social media is more common than it was 10 years ago, when older moms were mostly simply not on the platforms. Still, there’s no denying that they are fewer. I so desperately wanted to see the stories of those moms ahead of me, just as I had when all my kids were preschool. Maybe older moms just get more selfish. Why won’t they share?

And now, here I am, and about the time my oldest was 16 and my third was on the brink of teen years, making me the mother of more teens than not, I stopped not only Instagram cold, but also stopped making annual posts about the curriculum choices I made. Was I being selfish? Why does this happen? 

It’s kind of like how I’d smile and nod and internally roll my eyes when grandmas would stop me at the grocery store with a cart full of small children, saying, “It goes so fast!”

“Can it be fast until nap time?!” I’d think to myself. Now, I am that grandma. I find myself wanting to say, “Oh, it goes so fast!” I don’t want to be annoying. I don’t want to be trite. But it turns out the grandmas actually knew the truth better than I did. Instead of being silenced, I continue the custom of telling the young moms truth they do not understand. Someday they will, and they will smile themselves as they say the same thing. 

For many things I tell my kids, I’ll add the tag, “You’ll thank me when you’re thirty.” It’s true, Lord willing, but it’s also shorthand for, “I don’t care if you like my advice or not. It’s true, and, whether you take it or not, when you’re thirty you’ll know I was right.” Perhaps this is the grandma version. You’ll thank me when you’re sixty. Or forty-three.

Looking back over my own decades of mothering, I remember the many pieces of wisdom handed down to me from older women. I also remember looking around and thinking that the older women around me didn’t meet my standards for women to seek advice from. They weren’t ideal, their families weren’t ideal, so how could they help me become my ideal? Heh. Maybe it was all a clue. I wasn’t going to be ideal either, and I could learn much from them about how to handle trouble, trial, and imperfections all around.

Here’s what I’ve learned. You don’t need to find one woman who has all the answers you want. You need a community full of women to learn from. Learn from each one’s strengths. Learn from watching them interact and help one another. Learn from their mistakes as well as their successes. This is healthy community - where we don’t put any one person on a pedestal, but rather pull together in love and grace.

When you’ve been homeschooling for nearly two decades, whether you’re forty or fifty or sixty, and have graduated a few students, it’s hard to maintain your enthusiasm. Your homeschool isn’t cute. Your homeschool isn’t fun in the same way that homeschooling everyone ten-and-under is fun. True, the kids are older and no longer catching butterflies for science. Also, coffee doesn’t hit the same way it used to and energy doesn’t come with adrenaline highs anymore. Over forty, there is no more running on fumes and pulling it off.

There’s no real need to mourn the loss of the ability to run high on fumes, either. Our children don’t need energetic cheerleaders so much as they need steady, stable, wise counselors. Wise counselors don’t go around giving everyone every bit of advice they have, either. They wait to be asked. They wait for a receptive moment. They give a small dose and a baby step, not an information dump and ten-step program.

When you’ve seen four decades or more, you know that even though time flies by, it also won’t hurt anyone to wait a day or a week. Uncertainty, awkwardness, and learning the hard way are all normal and possibly even good for us — not situations to avoid at all costs. 

When we’re twenty and possibly even thirty, we want the older women to give us the answers. One reason they don’t, it turns out, is because we don’t need answers as much as we need faith, hope, and love. We need faith that God’s in charge and working through our less than ideal efforts. We need hope that God will keep His promises even while we are messing things up. We need love of God and love of our children to direct our daily choices in how to respond and what to do. We need to repent, rejoice, repeat. 

So instead of looking to older women for answers so you can avoid all their mistakes, watch their way of being. If they are wise women, copy their manner of life. You don’t need them to apply their wisdom to you; you need to follow down their path so you can gain wisdom of your own to apply.

You need to follow their God, Who will be as good to you as He has been to them. 

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I am working on a new book which I plan to title Home Is for Hospitality. If all goes as planned (which it rarely does for books, I know), it should be available in November.

Here is an excerpt for you from the first chapter.

What is your home for?

I get tired of folding the laundry and bored with making dinner when I lose sight of the point of it all. Why wash dishes and sweep the floors and make yet another meal? Why do I clean the bathrooms and go grocery shopping and vacuum the crumbs off the couch? It all seems to be dull, repetitive, and monotonous when we see ourselves as the family’s housemaid.

The default messaging of our society is that we women only do the housework when and if we drew the short straw and didn’t stand up for ourselves. The kids, our husband—other people—have made a mess and someone has to deal with it, because they sure won’t. I guess I’m the only one who cares, so I’ll take care of it, but it’s not fair.

How many times have I been indignant as I surveyed the mess surrounding me after a day of 7 people living full-time in our home, a day when the only time anyone left was only to go into the backyard to track in more mud? Many, many times. I feel indignation because it seems like my dignity itself has been offended. If people respected and cared for me, if I was valuable in their eyes, they wouldn’t do this to me. By not noticing the messes left in their wake, they are not noticing me.

However, housework is not undignified work. It is not minimum wage menial work that we should hire out if only we could afford it. Hiring help is fine in itself, but it can be done because we disdain the work or because it’s the best current use of our various resources. Hiring cleaning help is best when we’re doing it to extend our own and our household’s capacity, knowing the value of the work we’re delegating. When we dislike and disrespect chores, we will disrespect and devalue whoever is doing those chores, whether it’s us, our children, or hired help.

The solution to despised chores is not to outsource them, but rather to learn to love what must be done. It is possible, however far-fetched it may sound now. What must be done is different from what I’d like to have done or all that could be done. We can love what must be done because we understand and appreciate the must. 

I must do my upmost to keep a welcoming house brimming with life. Why must I? Not because my parents brought me up that way. Not because my husband demands it. Not because I’m oppressed by societal expectations. I must because it is the duty and the calling assigned to me by God when He gave me a family and a home. 

God says to us, “Here, you can have a place where people are made.” A husband and wife make people from scratch, raising them in a home. A home can also be a place where people are made more human because they are loved and treated like people and not robots or accessories. A home is a humanizing place, and all people need a home to develop into whole, healthy, happy humans.

G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “The business done in the home is nothing less than the shaping of the bodies and souls of humanity.” Our homes shape those who experience them. The question is how will our particular home shape the people who enter it. People—ourselves included—are shaped by the way the house is kept, not only by the decor and style or by the food and fellowship, but also by the clutter and grime or lack thereof.

Homes are places where the most important investments of all are made. People of every age and background and future require investment if they are going to be happy and productive, and such investments primarily happen in homes.

Our homes, then, are a talent that our Master has given us. Some are given a larger home with more resources, and others are given small apartments with meager means. God doesn’t demand we all do the same thing, but He does give us good gifts and the ability to magnify, amplify, and multiply those gifts in faith.

Instead of imitating the faithful servants, we are often the servant given a single talent; we think it’s unimpressive as we look at what others have. We are not walking by faith or stewarding our gifts; our eyes are on only ourselves. The work of turning this thing into something more, into something productive, baffles us. It seems too hard, too risky, too scary. So we do nothing with our talent but keep it “safe” by our own definition.

If Jesus were to come and ask us what we did with the gifts He gave us—life itself, a family, a home, people with potential all around us—would we turn and say, “Here, Lord, I didn’t burn it all down”?

What if the work we do to clean, organize, and manage our homes was an investment not in ourselves as a pet project, but an investment in the very mission of God Himself? All throughout Scripture we see that God delights to take small and insignificant people and efforts and turn them into something effective and glorious. 

God Himself is stewarding this world into a place that brings Him more and more glory through people who enjoy Him. Jesus Himself ascended into Heaven after He rose again in order to prepare an eternal home—a mansion with many rooms—for us. Homemaking is not a side gig for those who couldn’t do anything more interesting with their lives. Homemaking is work that inherently reflects the nature and glory of God.

Women make homes

God loves homemaking so much that He invests half of humanity with this opportunity to reflect Him directly within the world. He says that when women manage their homes and love their families well, “the word of God may not be reviled.” (Titus 2:5) Homes were God’s idea, begun with the creation of Eve, and God delights in them as much as Adam did when he received his bride.

God created women with homes built-in. Baby girls already have a womb by nine weeks gestation. Whether or not a woman ever becomes a mother through childbirth, she is made for motherhood. Motherhood is a deeper calling than giving birth. Paul, in Romans 16:30, tells them to greet Rufus’ mother, “who has been a mother to me as well.” 

Even the dictionary gives the first verb definition of ‘mother’ as “to bring up (a child) with care and affection” and the definition of “give birth to” is also listed as meaning “to produce or give rise to.” Women have a productivity all their own, peculiar to our own nature. One way or another, to someone or something, in one cause or another, women are caretakers by nature. 

My husband and I gifted a small baby doll to our granddaughter on her first birthday. She knew instantly what to do with it, even though she had no siblings yet. She cradled it; she hugged it; she smiled at it. Yes, she also poked its eyes and explored which parts of it fit in her mouth, but these too were expressions of delight. Girls are by nature, not only by nurture, maternal. Maternal instincts should be honored and cultivated, not silenced or squashed, as if they are only necessary if and when a baby comes into the picture.

The maternal instinct is part and parcel of being a home, being a place, in and of ourselves as women. It takes a woman to turn a house into a home, because it is her presence that gives the home a center and a root. Part of that being within a house, turning it into a home, includes those tasks we tend to dismiss and wish away. Yet even the despised chores are part of the work of nurturing, growing, and loving people. 

The Creation & New Creation Mandates

We are not at a loss or left to ourselves to figure out a mission for our lives. From the beginning, God gave man and woman the task of taking dominion, of filling the earth and subduing it. It is a task, God said, that the man could not do alone. Each in their own capacities and natures, both men and women fill and subdue. Together, they also produce more people, yet another way of filling the earth, one with a multiplying effect as those new people, in turn, grow up to continue filling and subduing. 

Before ascending to heaven, Jesus reinstituted a new creation mandate for the new creation of the church, His bride: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” This, too, is a calling for both man and woman, each to obey in keeping with their natures.

One way women work out the Great Commission is through their homes. Jesus is teaching us that our mission is to raise up people – from the womb or just over a single meal or front porch visit – who love God and are as invested in living out their faith as we are. We’re not to merely fill the world and subdue it, but to more specifically fill the world with disciples and subdue ourselves, others, our homes, culture, and all else we touch to obedience to our Lord.

God has created us, saved us, and told us to make disciples who obey His Word. This mission involves 3 duties. First, we must know His word. How can we ourselves obey it much less teach it to others if we don’t know what it says? Second, we must obey God’s word. Obedience flows out of gratitude from a heart and will radically transformed by God’s grace. A transformed heart will result in a transformed life. It doesn’t work the other way around. 

When we start by knowing our Bible, we’ll know that God saves us and then makes demands of us that He Himself equips us to live out. Third, we must teach God’s word to others. Even living as a faithful Christian wife is proclaiming the gospel, whether or not anyone recognizes it. Mothers disciple their children and housewives insist upon love and manners under their roof. The law of kindness, the law of God, is to be on our tongues. Your home is not merely a place where people eat and sleep, but also a home base for day-to-day disciple-making.

I am not a good housekeeper or homemaker.

No one will ever confuse my home with Martha Stewart’s or Joanna Gaine’s—not only because my throw pillows are from IKEA and looking a little sad because when they’re not walls of a fort they’re used to sit on, prop up books, and, yes, to throw.

No one will ever mix up my home and FlyLady’s or Clean Mama’s because my sink is rarely shiny; often it is downright dirty–because there are pretty much always dirty dishes in it. After all, most of us are home most of the time, and most of the time someone will be eating.

It’s a little awkward having a blog about homemaking and organizing. Most homemaking and organizing blogs and magazines are about the secrets and systems to achieving that look and feel you’ve always wanted. They are full of bright, minimalist photos bursting with promise. 

You won’t find many photos of my house on my blog because right now we’re in a temporary rental that’s was very lived in before we even got here. Our previous house was great for our family, but it didn’t have good lighting for photos and would never have been picked for home glam shots. My decorating style is “library chic” –because books everywhere is a style, right?

I don’t write about homemaking or organizing because I have it figured it, because I have all the secrets I can now impart to others, or even because my home is beautiful and organized.

In fact, when people ask if I’m organized, I feel like saying, “It’s complicated.” I do love giving things home and having a smart place for the things we actually need. What I really have been writing about for over fifteen years now is “What does it mean to be organized?”  

I believe that what the publishing and media industry has told us is organization and homemaking is a lie, and it’s part of what leaves us dissatisfied with our homes and our work. Feminism and secularism have removed the heart of the home, and now the industries that have sprung up around us gloss over that removal with well-placed candles, houseplants, and linen hand towels. 

Feminism denies that real work and real meaning happens in the home, so all the home is good for now is as a means of self-expression. 

Gut check: If your home is about expressing yourself, the other people living in the home will always feel like they are getting in the way and ruining your mojo. Every mom knows that feeling and has been tempted by that lie. 

Real organization is not an aesthetic or a style. Real organization means the stuff serves the mission. Therefore, you need a mission before you can be organized. Organization itself cannot be a purpose or end goal. It will never satisfy because it is only a tool. Your life and home can never be properly ordered if keeping the stuff ordered the way you like it is your highest aim. 

As G.K. Chesterton expressed it, “The business done in the home is nothing less than the shaping of the bodies and souls of humanity.” 

That business cannot happen when the home is in shambles or chaos. But it also is likely not happening when the house serves primarily as a trophy to our taste or an expression of our own selves, such that the bodies and souls of humanity that enter must only be adoring admirers or minions to the state of the house. In fact, that does shape people, but not in a healthy or God-honoring way. 

Homemaking is a tending sort of job. It is like gardening, not like factory work. There are many opinions and helps out there for doing well, but all of it must be mixed with an engaged and attentive and adaptable gardener. You can’t pretend to be a mere employee farm hand, simply doing what your told from your favorite book or YouTube channel. You have to watch this year’s weather, this year’s crop, this year’s weeds. Achieving success one year is no guarantee for success next year — and likewise with failure. 

There is no such thing as weeding so well that there will not be more weeds next week. 

A gardener is a caretaker and also a dominion-taker, a leader. A gardener can’t wait to be told what to do. He has to observe and decide and adjust and persevere. 

So it is with homemaking as well. Organizing is a lot like pulling the weeds of entropy in our home. It’s not some kind of magic mulch that negates the effects of the Fall. It’s just what we’re here to do, day in and day out, because ongoing life requires ongoing maintenance. If people are to flourish, someone must be administering the right amounts of food, clothing, truth, goodness, and beauty. 

Such a job takes tremendous personal involvement in the entire process. All our life long we will be continuing to mature and increase in skill in capacity in that process. It’s worth our time, energy, and attention. 

Pulling weeds might not be glamorous. Folding laundry and making another pot of pasta might not feel glamorous. Yet the gardener, after a day of working in his plot, sits back and surveys his land and is satisfied in the overall effect and ongoing productivity. So it can be for us as well.

Surveying our land, our home, our domain, and seeing that we are accomplishing the flourishing of people, we can sigh in contentment and go to bed ready to continue that same good work the next day. 

The work is not at all pointless. The real work is not at all undone by the children’s grubby little hands and abundant overactive hobbies. The real work is not achieving a visual effect.

Rather, “the business done in the home is nothing less than the shaping of the bodies and souls of humanity.” Keeping up with all four causes of such shaping— material, formal, efficient, and final— is our immensely satisfying role that requires us not only to pour ourselves out but also stand up straight and tall and proud. It is no small thing, no menial work, and no mere self-expression. 

We have a calling to take dominion, to lead. We have a commission to live out the gospel in an attractively efficacious manner. The bigger mission is not measured by a snapshot of the current state of the stuff. 

Keep on keeping on. Do not grow weary of doing good. Every dish cleaned, every shirt folded, every floor mopped, every smile bestowed, every chore dropped to have a timely conversation— each is a small step taking us toward our end. Count each step. Don’t evaluate how you’re doing by a desperate glance at how much work there is to do *again*, but rather by how many people are growing and thriving under your care and maintenance. Cheerfully put your hand to that plow each day, whether or not someone walking in at a particular moment in time would judge you a good housekeeper or not. 

“It looks like a bomb went off in here!”

What mom hasn’t thought that some days as she surveys her domain?

Heaped laundry baskets sit on the couch alongside stacks of folded towels.

Craft supplies strewn on the table along with paper bits everywhere.

Lunch dishes in the sink and evidence on the floor that children have eaten.

Books and papers perch on almost every horizontal surface.

We take it all in and evaluate. Our evaluation is primarily negative: There’s so much to do! All these problem areas will just be back tomorrow. No one picks up after himself around here. I can’t deal with this thankless work anymore. 

Whenever we take in the facts of our surroundings, we never see just the facts. We are always, inevitably, adding a layer of interpretation, of narrative, of story to what we see. That interpretation, in turn, tunes our attention to take in more of the information that fits the story while ignoring the information that doesn’t. 

Let’s look at that aftermath from a full day again—this time with a cheerful heart and optimistic vision.

We take it all in and evaluate. Isn’t it incredible that I can fit three loads of laundry into my day around the edges of everything else?! I can have the kids help me put that all away after dinner. I’m so glad we got our school done today and that the kids were able to fix themselves lunch. The kids are so creative and such good sports helping put together those signs for the church event coming up. We got so much done! Next I’ll pull this ship back together so we can keep going tomorrow!

Same circumstances. Different story. Different attitude. Only one of them is productive. Only one of them is actually true. 

No matter the mess at the end of a day full of activity, it doesn’t actually look like a bomb went off. That’s a metaphor, a little mini story, that is more likely to blow up your own internal dialogue and thereafter your life than it is a funny exaggeration. 

A bomb destroys. A bomb levels. 

The laundry you did, the food your children ate, the work you all did today with various supplies that are still out, is not rubble in the wake of destruction, but merely evidence of action, of life, of productivity. Nothing has been destroyed, not even your home. 

Our home’s purpose is not to sit pretty. It is not to be a testimony to our good taste. The goal of our housework is not even that the house be clean. Yes, you read that rightly.

When we start thinking of our goal, our mission, as keeping a clean house, then all the living that happens in our house appears to be thwarting our mission. But that is exactly backwards. We clean so that life is facilitated and welcomed. When we see evidence of life being lived, of projects being pursued, of education happening, then we should rejoice, while clearing the decks for more of it to continue happening tomorrow.

We are so desperate for a grade, for a paycheck, for an evaluation, that we too easily seize upon the state of our house and elevate it into our scorecard. We look at the house and let it be a judge, holding up either a 10 or a 2 — and rarely do we see any middling numbers. 

Then we swing wildly back and forth between being all about keeping everything just so and entirely giving up. We see only 10s or 2s because that’s our boom-and-bust cycle on display. 

We want our homes to be cozy, welcoming, beautiful havens. That’s our standard for a 10 out of 10. The crumbs on the floor, the dishes in the sink, the laundry in process, and the evidence of children in the house appear to negate our attempts at creating havens. 

But your home is not for hygge. Your home is for life. There will be times for cozy and serene, but more time for busy skill-building and messy discipleship. Your home is a stage for your mission, not a mission in itself.

I have learned to be amused by comments some people will make when they hear I write on organization. Everyone by default assumes Martha Stewart and Pinterest and Instagram. Unconsciously, women equate organization with control. We picture being “put together” as never having anything out of place. 

My husband, children, and friends raise their eyebrows in amusement when they hear comments like, “Oh, your house must be amazing, so organized!” “Your house must run like clockwork!”

Let me tell you, we are often scrambling. We’re not scrambling like those who have no purpose, who are flying by the seat of our pants. We’re scrambling because we want to be working at as much as possible, pushing our capacity, actively and zealously pursuing good works as God makes them available to us. 

That means our home is messy more often than it’s clean. We spend more time “in progress” than we do “complete.” If you step into our house on a typical day, you will not find everything in its place. I’m ok with that because my mission isn’t having an organized house. My mission is raising a family that glorifies God to its fullest, expanding capacity. 

Organization is a tool to help that happen. It’s not the goal itself that everything else is serving. Organization as a tool rather than an end looks very different in real life.

I have taken meals to moms with several small children after their third or fourth or fifth baby, stepping over toys and setting the food on a dirty counter, only to have the mom apologize that the house isn’t clean. Let me be the older woman, grandma even, who gives that new mom self-consciousness a different perspective on the facts: 

If you just had a baby four days ago, with 3 other children under 6 running around, it had better be messy when I come drop off a meal. Your job is to sit, nurse, rest, smile, cuddle. That’s why I’m bringing you a meal. You’ll pull the house back together again later—maybe in three or four months. It’s ok. 

I am actually concerned if I walk into an immaculate house, not a messy house, in such a situation—unless it’s because a mom or sister is staying with you. I want to see a house bursting with evidence of life and not a house evidencing a woman who spends all her time tidying up after people so that the house stays just so.

The state of your home is not your grade. The state of your family is your grade, and that grade is on the movie version, not any single snapshot. The state of the house and of the family are often different. One should serve the other — and the one you make your focus will be served by the other. Thus, if you make your home’s cleanliness your scorecard, your family will be serving the house, not the house the family. 

However, if you are truly devoted to your family, you will manage your home toward that end. It might rarely be impressively clean and organized, but it will facilitate the flourishing of many people. 

All the evidence of full lives lived in your home at the end of the day is no sign of destruction, but the exact opposite. Our metaphors matter. Your home is a garden. You can nuke it so nothing grows at all, but if you’re growing a vegetable patch, there will also be weeds to pull every day. You can’t pull the weeds so well one day that they won’t ever come back. 

It’s never too late in your garden to start pulling weeds, no matter how big they are. Productive gardens require tending. They are ongoing projects, bearing fruit and nourishment. The same is true of our homes. Productive homes require ongoing tending, care, attention, so that they can bear fruit and nourishment for many.

Do not be discouraged by the fact of the work. Roll up your sleeves and learn to love it because you see its goodness.

Someone needs to upload Abigail Shirier’s book Bad Therapy into ChatGPT and train it on some common sense. 

I have been using ChatGPT to help me generate ideas for podcast titles and video descriptions. I’ve also experimented with whether or not it’s any good at outlining topical series for podcasts. At first, I was amused by how often its title options included the reassurance that “You’re not lazy.” 

You’re not lazy, just overwhelmed! Why can’t you keep your house clean? You’re not lazy; you’re just expecting too much. Tired? You’re not lazy, just a perfectionist! Whatever is going on in your life, ChatGPT wants you to know it’s not because you’re lazy. It couldn’t be that. Anything but laziness. 

Then earlier this week I went on a couple YouTube excursions into business videos and also research into another potential project in my life. And I started seeing it all over - “You are not lazy” was worked into at least one video title from almost every creator I saw. Multiple videos on my sidebar, also, included the thought, regardless of the video’s topic or premise.

Whatever you are, you are not lazy. It is actually impossible to be lazy. Perish the thought!

Of course, all this insistence upon a lack of laziness made contrarian me wonder if we’re all actually lazy and ChatGPT wants to keep us that way.

Guess what? If you’re lazy, you can do something about that. It’s probably simpler to fix laziness than perfectionism or overwhelm or any other mental and emotional struggle. On top of that, fixing laziness can even move you out of your other struggles, because feelings follow action. Your emotional struggles might cause laziness, but solving the laziness can be a first step out of the emotional struggles.

What is laziness?

My favorite American Heritage Dictionary has three relevant definitions for ‘lazy.’

First, laziness is “not willing to work or be energetic.” When you are lazy, it is not simply that you don’t have energy, but that you are not even willing to have energy. What energy you have, you are not willing to use. 

Mothers know the “not willing to work” attitude because we see it in our children. Sometimes our children will just tell us straight up that they don’t want to make their bed, brush their teeth, or do their chores. It’s our job to likewise be straight up and say, “Too bad.” But who will say the same to us?

Other times our children will simply not do the work they are unwilling to do and see if it actually matters, if it really makes a difference, if anyone will notice. Let’s be honest. We’ve all done the same as adults as well. And who noticed? Were we willing to admit it made a difference or were we eager to buy our own excuses? 

You know who noticed? God. Because He loves you, He keeps needling you about this bad attitude and your laziness. Ask me how I know. He will not let you go. It’s not false guilt; it’s conviction. God wants better for you, as His child, than to get away with bare minimums and lazy excuses — just like you do for your children.

The second definition is “slow-moving; sluggish: a lazy river.” Ha! Don’t we also know this from observing our children? Don’t our children provide us with that exaggerated mirror that we need to recognize and then repent of our own sin?

A lazy river in a pool on a hot day is fun. A sluggish day where you move through molasses is a drag. We are lazy in our obedience when our obedience is reluctant and slow rather than joyful and zealous. That’s right, even doing the right thing—obedience—can be done in a wrong way and become disobedience. 

Again, such revelations are not given to throw us into condemnation, but to point us to repentance, forgiveness, and cleansing so we can be free from the doldrums of laziness.

How we obey is as much taught in Scripture as the command to obey is given. Romans 12:11 commands, "Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord.” Slothful, sluggish, slow, lazy—such adjectives should not describe how we go about the Lord’s work (which is all our daily work). After all, we are to “work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men,” according to Colossians 3:23.

The third and final definition is “conducive to inactivity or indolence: a lazy summer day.” Rest in its place is good, and we must be constantly reminded of that in our always-on, workaholic world. However, we must also hold on to the truth that work is good, and we are given 6 days a week to **labor.** Not only should we ourselves not be inactive and indolent in our regular workday life, but we should not be creating homes that are conducive to inactivity or indolence as well. 

A bustling home life is appropriate for a faithful family. Homes are not for hygge. Homes are for labor, for the formation of fully competent people. Home isn’t primarily where we rest. It’s where we work for more hours than we rest (even if you count sleeping hours—which you should, since it is the God-ordained time to rest daily). 

In Christ, our spirits have rest even as we labor with our bodies. Teaching from rest is still teaching, not taking it easy; living from rest also is possible—and it means being busy abounding in the good works God has laid before you, without stress or anxiety or despair.

Is it bad to be lazy?

The Bible doesn’t warn us about sins we never commit, but those God knows we are often beset by. Many passages are dedicated to warnings against laziness, so we know for a fact that laziness is always a possibility for why we feel lousy and don’t get much done.

Identifying sins isn’t about condemnation, but about repentance—the open door out of sin when we submit to Christ. Repentance, not another pep talk, is the path to conquering laziness whenever it appears in our lives.

Laziness prompts us to be like the foolish servant given a talent. We’ve been given energy—though perhaps less than others—and because we’re comparing ourselves with others who were given more or because we don’t want to start without being certain of outcomes, we bury our energy in an effort to keep it safe. We protect ourselves rather than put ourselves out there. Unused, our energy dissipates and never expands. 

Yes, it is sinful to be lazy. Scripture says so. It is also foolish and self-defeating to be lazy, as the book of Proverbs makes clear. 

Are you lazy?

Especially for women, there are times were we have to relax and recoup. Women are not designed to be rigid or “consistent” in the same way that men are. Women’s work is different from men’s work and the same applications and admonitions and techniques do not always apply.

Women cycle; it is part of our design, and we should take it into account instead of pretending our bodies and minds are the same as men. Sometimes we are highly capable and other times we are not. Our fluctuating hormones make us motherly. We can adapt. We can slow down and take time with people. 

Some times of the month we will spend more time sitting than others. Some seasons we will be pregnant or postpartum and our body is doing incredible work behind the scenes such that the only other thing we’re capable of doing is sleeping. 

Particularly for women, we can’t simply look at checked off items to decide if we’re lazy or not. Are we counting the hour-long counseling conversation with our teen as part of our productivity? Are we counting the milk made in secret? Are we counting the time spent working out logistics and resources for the family? Are we recognizing that the afternoon rest was preparatory for a fitful night with wakeful children? Typically, we don’t count such things. 

Don’t diagnose laziness by menial tasks marked off or by outcomes attained. Laziness is an attitude and disposition that leads us to sinfully neglect our duties. We have caretaking, human-scale duties, not machine-like factory duties. Judge with right judgement, with wisdom that is constantly seeking God, not outcome-based goals. 

Yet laziness can certainly still beset us at home, and that quite often. 

We choose laziness when we choose distraction. We ignore the dishes just because we don’t want to deal with them, not because we’re arranging our priorities with wisdom. We allow friends or acquaintances to captivate our attention when our children require it. We stay in bed after our alarm because we just don’t want to start another day. We stay on the couch because it’s warm and comfortable whereas our work seems hard and unrelenting. 

Laziness is a lie whispering in our ear that we’ll have enough time later. We’ll just finish this chapter, just have a treat first, just check my email first, just participate in a trivial forum thread first. Laziness says the work doesn’t really matter anyway. It won’t make a difference. 

Laziness is reluctance to exchange stillness for motion in the prime of the day. Laziness is dull, slow-motion work, uninspired and mostly unwilling even while doing what needs to be done.

Laziness blames adverse conditions (real or imagined) for a lack of motivation and movement. Instead of taking dominion, it allows circumstances to exercise dominion. Instead of taking responsibility, laziness shirks it and avoids it. After all, responsibilities only grow and increase as you meet them — keep life easy by minimally fulfilling responsibilities so you’re not given more.

Laziness is a vain grasping at the easy life. The easy life, however, is an empty promise. It has no joy, no satisfaction, no meaning, no growth. Laziness is a lie that swallows us up and eats away our life and potential. 

How do you stop being lazy?

As Christians, we have the best solution to laziness right at our fingertips. We can recognize laziness not as a fault or failure or mistake, but as sin.

When we call it a sin, we are then able to repent of it. Repentance is the only way to truly be cleansed of any sin, including laziness.

Repentance begins by asking God to forgive us of the particular, specific instance of laziness. We acknowledge it as a sin against His grace and glory, then we thank Him for the blood of Jesus that gives us cleansing. We ask God for the fruit of the Spirit that He has promised us, especially self-control and faithfulness. 

Then, we get up and do something we ought to do. Don’t overthink it. What needs to be done? Start there and just do something. Get up and demonstrate your willingness to work, to move, to obey. It’s actually not complicated. It only looks complicated when laziness shades our view. Obedience clears the path. Obedience brings a joy that makes us happier while doing our duties than we ever were while wiling away the day. 

The two choices before us are 1) laziness or 2) doing the good work God has put before us to do. Which are you choosing right now? 

Laziness will always tempt us, but we don’t have to give way when we feel the pull. God always provides a path of obedience, away and out of the temptation. It is probably the thing our laziness is asking us to ignore. If you just get up and do the thing, you will prove that your laziness was lying to you and you can show it up, answer it back. It’s actually way better to walk the path of duty than the path of ease. 

Repent. Rejoice. Repeat.

My first granddaughter will soon be one year old. She’s an adorable spitfire, and I can’t wait to hear what she has to say when she’s two. I’m not worried about her already stubborn opinions because I know her parents are up to the challenge. They can handle it, so I can enjoy it.

There are two things about becoming a grandma that I was not expecting before it happened.

First, I was not expecting to be asked by everyone immediately upon mentioning my upcoming promotion - including strangers in person and online - what my grandma name would be. Now, I did my best to quickly figure this out so I’d have an answer. I felt like I was being asked almost every day for a time; now it’s more like once a week. 

All my children and my husband agreed that the only option was grandma. So here we are: Grandma is my grandma name. Now you know.

The second thing I was not expecting was the constant question: “How do you like being a grandma?!” The convenient thing about such an obvious question is the simple answer: “It’s the best!” 

But since, apparently, everyone wants to know how it is to be a grandma, I thought I’d write a longer form answer. 

Being a grandma is the best, and it’s not only because you can have baby time without changing diapers or waking up in the middle of the night. 

A grandma’s responsibility

The lovely thing about being a grandma is not that you have no responsibility, as the answer about diapers and sleep generally implies. Rather, the responsibility is different, It is less immediate and physically demanding.

The first primary responsibility is to support rather than direct and control. Today, many parents move to the support role too soon, afraid to direct and control their small children lest they breed resentment and trauma. Small children merely supported in their foolishness, however, will not yield adults who are courageous and productive. 

Then, when those uncontrolled toddlers become teens, it is too late to direct and control them. Even controlled toddlers, however, must be gently loosed from firm parental direction. Teens resist control, but it’s also not fully the time to move into a support role. It is difficult for parents to find the middle ground, but doing so is key to moving into this new phase and developing a healthy almost peer like relationship with them. Teens need us to be their coaches: Let them make their plays, then review the game film and make plans with them for the next plays. 

I moved out of coach and into support position when my son put a ring on his wife’s finger. If you were expecting it all along, it can be delightful. If it sneaks up on you, it can feel like getting kicked out and replaced. In fact, you have been replaced. Or, at best, down-shifted. 

The less authority you try to invoke at this stage, the more influence you can graciously wield later. Let your son leave and cleave, let yourself be replaced and down-graded, and you open yourself to new horizons that are so much better. It is a death-to-life time for mothers — when you know that’s what’s happening, you can receive it with joy rather than fight it and grieve over it. 

Don’t grieve over the way God made the world. That’s silly sentimentalism masking itself as care and love.

After all, the non-interfering support role is a delightful place to hold as a grandma. It’s a front-row seat to see the abundant blessing of God poured on your meager, inadequate offerings of the last twenty-some years.

The cute toddler became the bright little boy, who became the argumentative twelve-year-old, who became the bold teen, who became a young man who won the affections of a good woman, put a ring on it, and started the cycle over again, taking a new mantle of authority and dignity. 

It is jaw-droopingly awesome and incredible when you see it from this perspective.

Your children’s children

While visiting at my parents with my siblings and their kids at Easter this year, my dad was struck with God's grace: “My baby has a baby who had a baby.” Yes, I was a young grandma at 42. My dad is in his early sixties, so he is a young great-grandpa who also had two new grandkids the same year as his first great.

Our kids aren’t as numerous or spread out as my parent's, so we might not have that same situation, but still both my parents and my husband and I could feasibly see our great-great grandchildren. In fact, on my husband’s side, our grandchild still has two living great-great grandparents — 4 living generations. 

One recurring blessing pronounced in the Psalms is that of seeing your children’s children. When my children were born, I sang those hymns and recognized my own children as my parents’ blessing. They were not simply mine, but just as much theirs. 

When I first held my granddaughter in my arms, the marvel that nearly overwhelmed me was that I had a baby without going through labor. My labors were all long and difficult; my daughter-in-law’s was long and difficult. She had done the work for me. Yes, it was her work and her child, but also mine. It is a gut-wrenching picture of grace: a newborn that looked like my newborns was placed in my arms, yet I had not done anything to bring it into the world. My stomach turned that first time I held her in awe and wonder.

My children are not in themselves my own full blessing and reward, but rather to be the future source of blessing, bringing children of their own so that I, too, may see my children’s children.  

Over the decades I’ve been a mother, I’ve heard many older women comment in one way or another, “Oh, kids are great and all, but *grandchildren* — that’s where it’s at.” This is no shirking of responsibility but a sheer delight. It strikes me as utterly biblical.

Such a long-view perspective changes your parenting. Your children are not your own. They belong to God. Also, your children are your reward in that they are the ones who will give you grandchildren. When Psalm 127 says the fruit of the womb is a reward, it adds the context of them standing with you at the gate, standing with you in conflict. Blessing is not in the pitter-patter of their feet in your home, delightful as that is, but in their feet being solidly planted alongside you in your God-given mission. 

Natural son, but spiritual brother

Part of the baptism vow parents make at our church upon the covenant baptism of their children is “do you promise to raise this child not only as your natural son, but also as your spiritual brother?” As children of God, we are all siblings, peers, co-laborers. To see your son become a father is to see that spiritual reality embodied in front of you and even to hold it in your arms as you embrace not him, but his child.

As parents, we are raising people to become our peers, parents and kingdom-builders alongside us. Seeing our grandchildren is seeing that reality taking place. The work isn’t done. Having grandchildren doesn’t mean retirement from the mission. Instead, reinforcements have arrived — our children have become our reinforcements. 

When they become older teens, our children separate from us and sometimes that can be painful. For some, it is a shock. 

Remember that we’re working for our grandchildren and not ourselves, not to keep our children safe as our personal pets. Just as caterpillars have to take a time out in a cocoon before emerging as beautiful butterflies, so our children need time out from under our care and personal attention. They will emerge as adults — adults who can give us grandchildren we can be proud of. 

As you educate, discipline, and nurture your children, you are shaping the kind of parents they will become. Don’t worry if they aren’t loving every minute of your parenting when they are 12, 15, or 17. You’re not working for immediate feedback. You’re shaping the parents of your grandchildren. What kind of parents will your grandchildren need? Help your children grow into that.

My husband and I consciously raised our children to be adults. Each one growing up and launching was always our aim and purpose. And, lo! Here we are! It’s not by our efforts, but rather by faith in receiving what God has given, each stage along the way, taking it with joy.

Let it be marvelous in your eyes

I was having coffee with my 17-year-old daughter a few weeks ago when from the coffeeshop window we spotted my oldest son, now father of two (the second still in utero), leaping out of his truck toward his office.

He is not exactly like his father, nor exactly like me, but some of the best of both of us, mixed with some of our same struggles, as well as a dose of his own person, shaped by the Lord. It is delightful to happen upon a man at church or on the street and realize it’s your son, your boy, and an admirable man. 

Who knew this really would happen? Here we are! Every time I see my adult children in the wild, I am bowled over by God’s goodness.  Psalm 118:23 pops into my head: “This is the LORD’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.” 

Over coffee, I had smiled reflexively upon realizing that the man leaping from the truck was my son. I turned my smile to my practically adult daughter as said, “You know, I love having grown ups even more than having little kids.” 

What a shift to the mother-child relationship! It is necessary, why not relish it? Why attempt to hold on to a past or mourn a past whose whole purpose was to bring you to this moment? Our purpose as a mother isn’t over after our children become adults. We get to onboard them as fellow mothers and fathers and enjoy the resulting grandchildren, the blessing of seeing generational, covenantal faithfulness. 

Why not let our children see that being a grown up makes us happy, rather than makes us sad? Which response will make them more confident and resilient? Which will help them become better parents themselves? It is not the response of trying to keep them under our roof, under our provision. 

Sentimentalism is selfish

Mommy sentimentalism is not love, even if that’s what we think it feels like. In reality, it is indulgent self-love, a desire to be the self we think we still are: young and fertile. We aren’t ready to take on the grandma-mantle, so we yearn for our children to stay children. 

The role of mother is familiar and has become comfortable. Indeed, I admit that part of my desire to have a different name than “grandma” is to hold tighter to my youth than to my promotion. Promotions require shifts, new duties, and change.

I can still look back at photos of my oldest as a cute and precocious elementary student and smile, remembering more of the good than the hard of those days. That memory-filtering is a blessing of grandmahood. Such delight in memories is not incompatible with delight in knowing that cute little boy is now a man taller than me, whom I ask questions and into whose opinion and experience I inquire.

I have several friends who are living out both positions at once: nurturing mother of a newborn and gloating grandma. What a superfluity of blessing — and all blessings come with challenges, stretching us to expand our capacity, our love, our faithfulness and worship. 

Love wants the best for the loved one. It is not good for teens to be treated like children. It is not good for young adults to be hemmed in. Letting go in love brings, years later, the fertility of our fertility, the children of our children, the fruit of our fruit - and it’s incredibly delightful. Love and worship of God delights in His daily provision, not trying to keep back today’s because we prefer our memories of yesterday’s blessings.

It is only by letting our young adults go free and enjoying them in their new state that we get the biblical blessing of seeing our children’s children — and that’s the blessing God tells us to look for.

Being a grandma is a blessing to receive. It is an achievement level to rejoice in. Parent toward reaching that achievement - keep it on your radar. Your children growing up is a prerequisite to receiving the blessing, so don’t mourn and grieve when it happens, but wait patiently, knowing the reward is having them stand next to you, taller than you, stronger than you, better than you. 

When we think about preparing for hospitality, we imagine being in control. We issue an invitation a week or two in advance. We plan a menu. We clean the house. Sure, when the hour is upon us it might get a little hectic, but we knew it was coming.

Once we start opening our homes and ourselves up for more hospitality, however, the hospitality sometimes comes to us unbidden. If you’ve prayed for the opportunity to grow in hospitality, you will likely receive an answer to that prayer: which looks like hospitality you’re given rather than controlling.

We’ve done lots of planned-in-advance hospitality and that practice, which often felt very stretching at the time, paved the way for different kinds of hospitality. We’ve had extended house guests in a home without a guest room. We’ve had opportunities to meet someone new and say, “Hey, want to come over?” We’ve had afternoon calls that resulted in dinner invites for that evening. 

Hospitality means “stranger-love,” not “put-on-an-impressive-production.” Our homes, like our lives, are not our own. The more we can use it not just as the family decompression place but also as the space for making others feel welcome — to town, to church, to know God, to family life, to homeschooling — the more we are making our homes a tool of investment, turning a profit, stewarding it as God’s resource rather than our own. 

But maintaining a home that can be both a constant-use family stage as well as a tool ready for kingdom service is a challenge. We don’t have to wait until everything is perfectly under control before we expand out into hospitality. Instead, we pray to be ready and equipped and then we step out in faith when God sends the opportunity. Perfection not required.

Awhile back I received an email from a long-time reader and current Convivial Circle member about one such opportunity she had just been given. Here’s an edited version of her story:

I’ve been behind on housekeeping and now I feel like I’m making progress. Here’s how the rubber is hitting the road now:  I’m hosting a dinner this Saturday. Good call to do it. Checked with my husband. Looking forward to it. But practically, my house needs a fair amount of work to have it tidy and clean for 35 people. 

It’s not an option to suspend homeschool. My kids are big now. Fridays we are out of the house for co-ops, so I have 2 days and then Saturday where I can do some cleaning, but my main work will be cooking and setting up. I’m trying to baby step this. I’ll start with a brain dump. 

My husband has never expected a magazine shoot home (praise God!) but he really doesn’t like it when the house doesn’t feel ready for guests, and I’m scrubbing the toilet as people walk through the front door. I want to honor him, be realistic about my time, and also not drop my homeschool responsibilities because I’m catching up the house.

I’d like to get to where I have enough routines in place that I’m never in need of an emergency clean. But here I find myself at the moment 😄

I am genuinely unsure how to prioritize my time in the next few days. I’d appreciate any ideas.

I did reply to her personally, but I hope that many of you find yourself frequently in a similar situation. It’s one I’m familiar with as well and being “never in need of an emergency clean” is just a pipe dream — we can make it less frequent by not continually operating in emergency mode and getting our basic chaos down to minimal levels. 

However, life happens unpredictably and we are called to respond cheerfully in faith, not called to always have an immaculate house. Sometimes the service we are called to give results in mess and a backlog of cleaning and decluttering. We need to flex our capacity not for keeping all stuff under control, but keeping our attitude and willingness to work under control and properly directed. 

Prepared for Hospitality

When you find your plate full of good things, and it feels like they can’t all be done, we have to remember that there is always a path forward in faithfulness. We need the wisdom, the discernment, to spot it and accept that it will likely mean dying to ourselves in some way. God is giving us an overflow of good work to stretch us and grow us and try us, not to make us feel like inadequate failures. 

So if you find yourself with hospitality opportunities coming at you with less time than you’d like to prepare, here are the things to prioritize to have not only a hospitable home, but also a hospitable atmosphere because of your hospitable attitude.

You're already in a good place knowing that hosting this gathering is what you're supposed to be doing. So whenever stress creeps in, take a deep breath and know it's a temptation trying to take you out of the good work. Feeling overwhelmed or condemned are lies whispering to your heart, attempts of the flesh and the devil to decommission you. 

You know why it’s worth the effort to tempt you thus? Because the work is potent. It is small. It looks insignificant on the surface of things. But it is one of those weak things that God magnifies in mysterious ways for the good of His people — in both directions. So turn the tables on the temptation and let it remind you that you’re doing something meaningful and effective.

Silence any overwhelm, complaints, or inadequacies with gratitude for the opportunity God has given and for the people He is bringing into your life and home. Gratitude makes us productive.

Now that your attitude is in order, these are my top 3 strategies for getting to a level of baseline hospitality when time is tight.

First, clean bathrooms.

For the reader’s situation, I recommended that she clean the bathrooms Thursday so she could send a kid to do a quick wipe-down and supply check Saturday.

My husband, also, prefers the bathrooms to be cleaned early enough in the day that it doesn’t smell of cleaner as people arrive. Makes sense! 

Now, when we had several small children, cleaning the bathroom at the last minute made sense because accidents happened all the time. Last minute bathroom cleaning was the best way to make sure the bathroom was actually hospitable. 

Such is no longer the case, however. Now I will spray down the counter, sink, and toilet and bring two rags in with me. First I’ll wipe out the sink and counter, then I’ll use that rag to wipe the edges of the floor and any visible spots. With the second rag I’ll wipe down the toilet, from the outside in, ending with a wipe down where the toilet and floor meet. Then I’ll change the towel to a fresh one, using the old one to wipe down the mirror, door, or anywhere I notice some dust or spot. Done! 

This isn’t the most thorough and complete bathroom cleaning regime, but it keeps the space decent and hospitable. It’s also doable in 5 minutes or less. 

Second, clear places for people to sit.

When our priority is hospitality rather than creating an aesthetic that’s about us and our taste and abilities, we shift our focus to making others comfortable. No one is more or less comfortable if the bookshelves are dusted and styled, but if there is no spot to sit, then they will be quite uncomfortable.

Even if all you have time for is moving piles off the chairs and couches and into corners, that’s an improvement that increases the comfort of guests. 

If you can offer your guests a place to sit and a beverage, you are extending hospitality. Don’t overcomplicate it or let perfectionism prevent you from invitations before your house is decluttered and cleaned to the standard you’d prefer.

Where are you at now? What do you have to offer? Go with that. Extending hospitality will increase your motivation to continue the decluttering and cleaning, but procrastinating hospitality will only beget more procrastination.

Calling together your team

Kids can be a great help in preparing for and cleaning up after guests. However, we want to be careful how we manage those times. We can get their help by demanding it and making them feel like our slaves, or we can recruit their help as teammates. 

Hospitality to guests is a family affair and the kids can be a meaningful, contributing part of it. Bringing them on board gives them real life experience that prepares them for adulthood and gives them confidence. 

Here’s what I recommended to my reader in her situation:

Let the kids know you'll need 1 hour of work from them Saturday to pitch in so the family can pull this off as a team effort. Make a list of things they can do, with each item being about 5-10 minutes. Let them choose, 1 at a time, on Saturday what they'll do - after finishing 1, they get to come claim another - this incentivizes quick work and initiative and starting early. 

Let them each set a timer for their work so people who start earlier aren't held up by those starting later. They won't clean like you would, but just appreciate that it's better than it would have been without their help. 

It's totally ok to grab a big box or bin and collect up stuff to deal with later so it's quickly out of the way now.

Clear expectations and keeping the mood light and fun are key. 

You can be ready for hospitality!

My final reminder was, “Clean bathrooms, food and drink, and cheerful people make a party. You can do this!”

You, too, my dear reader, can do this. Do not let perfectionism prevent you from opening your doors and accepting the opportunities of hospitality God has given you. If you aren’t seeing any such opportunities, pray for them. Pray for the willingness to first see them, then take them. 

So many now are hungry for not only friends, but also models of home and family. A normal home with regular everyday food is all we need to be impressive — impressive in the right way: impressing our guest with the genuine love of God. Many have never seen a functioning family, a normal family dinner, or the genuine love of God, and they are starving for it all. 

In fact, God’s design of the family itself testifies to His own love and care, so bringing others into your home not for a party but just for a small slice of sharing life is a guaranteed way to testify to God’s work and God’s goodness. 

Be ready for hospitality. Don’t overthink it. Don’t set your personal standards so high that you are never ready. Get started and grow in it with practice!

We often think we need a full afternoon—or an entire weekend—to get our homes in order. But when you’re managing a full life with kids, appointments, interruptions, and responsibilities, those large chunks of time rarely happen. What if, instead of waiting for the perfect day to overhaul the house, we embraced the little bits of time we actually have?

Recently, I spoke with Erika Macartney, a homeschooling mom of three and Convivial Circle member, about what she’s learned through years of managing her home, homeschooling, and staying involved in her church and community.

She shared how she has stopped trying to overhaul everything at once. Instead, she now maintains her home in 5–20 minute increments.

Let’s explore what that looks like in practice.

The problem with project-thinking

We often fall into the trap of thinking our house is a project to finish. We create chore charts, schedules, or room zones and assign them a block of time we think they need—30, 45, even 60 minutes or more. However, when that block of time gets eaten up by a toddler meltdown, a grocery run, or just normal life, we tend not to adjust the plan, but rather abandon the plan.

Erika realized her zone cleaning plan looked good on paper, but didn't work in reality. She kept assigning herself Wednesdays for one room, but it never happened. Life got in the way.

Eventually, she realized: I can maintain in five to twenty minute increments. I cannot maintain with big mountain-peak overhauls followed by long valleys of letting it all go.

This shift from project-thinking to maintenance-thinking is what keeps the house functional and the homemaker sane.

10 minutes can be more powerful than you think

So often we overestimate how long something will take. Erika shared how she assumed a task will take ten minutes—only to discover it took three. Likewise, a quick tidy-up while reheating coffee resulted in more progress than she ever expected.

When we practice doing small tasks consistently, we learn the real time costs of our routines. We get faster. We build momentum. And we start seeing that 10 minutes is enough to make a difference.

The key is doing what we can, not waiting for time to do everything all at once.

Don’t rely on the list—or your mood

We all struggle with a tension between our lists and moods.

If we rely solely on lists, we can become rigid and frustrated. If we rely solely on mood, we’ll likely avoid what needs to be done. A sustainable approach means respecting both our energy levels and our responsibilities.

Instead of sticking to a fixed schedule, Erica glances at what needs attention and asks, “What can I do in the time I have with the energy I have?” Some days, a list helps her focus. Other days, she simply chooses one obvious thing. But she stays engaged with her home, not checked out.

Treat your home like a relationship

During our talk, Erika said something that stopped me in my tracks: “It’s like we have a relationship with our house.”

Yes.

Our home isn’t a machine to be optimized or a project to be completed. It’s the setting for our lives—where people are growing, changing, learning, and living.

When we try to automate everything or perfect it, we treat our homes impersonally. But when we show up, pay attention, and take responsibility, we are loving our people by caring for the environment we all share.

Progress builds confidence

Erika shared that this shift—from big overhauls to small, steady maintenance—gave her more confidence. She’s no longer overwhelmed when guests are coming. She doesn’t dread the aftermath. She knows how to recover. She’s practiced it.

That confidence didn’t come from a perfect checklist. It came from practice and repentance, from paying attention and adjusting, from doing the next right thing, five minutes at a time.

Start your own 5–20 minute plan

If you’re ready to drop the perfectionism and build a sustainable home routine, I created a free resource to help: The Personalized Cleaning Plan Guide.

It walks you through setting up a zone rotation and daily maintenance plan that fits your house, your life, and your real schedule.

Let’s be women who manage our homes with joyful attention and cheerful diligence—not frustration and guilt.

After all, loving what must be done starts with doing what we can, where we are, with what we have.

In class with my high school seniors a couple weeks ago, we were watching the Modernity videos from Dave Raymond about the 1960s.

He included the historic clip of Kennedy announcing the goal of landing a man on the moon by the end of the decade. This sentence from that speech jumped out at me:

“We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills.”

Of course my radar went off because he used the word organize, but also because I realized how different this use of the term is from our usual use as moms.

When moms are hunting for strategies to get organized, we are doing so to simplify and streamline life. Organization does do that, but not in the way we usually think.

Organization isn't to make life easy

When we think “simple,” we too often picture “easy” and “smooth” as synonyms. We are looking for the system, the solution, that will fix everything up. Once we are organized, we think, our mental energies will no longer be required. That’s our goal - to be disengaged automatons in our home. How inspiring is that?

Perhaps you think I exaggerate. However, consider what you think the payoff will be once you get your paperwork organized or your meal plans and pantry organized or your time management figured out. Isn’t it that you won’t have to think about it anymore? It will just exist in a “working” form. We assume that the better the system works, the less we will have to work.

In other words, our ideal organization will dehumanize us and our home. By seeking automation in the home, efficiency in our days, and minimalism in our efforts, we really are seeking to remove ourselves — even if only mentally and emotionally — from our homes. 

We might still count ourselves as stay-at-home moms, but what we want is the ability to mentally check out of as much of the daily reality as possible.  If we’re honest, the payoff we want from the effort of getting organized is to be disengaged.

However, as humans we have skills and energies to bestow. We will bestow our skills, energy, and attention on those things we most value and desire. We will take time with those things we think matter. In fact,  giving our time and attention is one way of expressing, of bestowing, value.

If you ignore your children, they are going to doubt your claims about loving them. Love is not a feeling you carry around inside you, but rather an expression of care. It is the same with our homes. To love our homes — even homes that are less than loveable — we must care about them. We come to care about them by first caring for them, period. 

Organization channels your efforts

Do you want to learn to love what must be done? Start by doing what must be done, not because it is easy, but because it is hard, because it is worthwhile. Our feelings follow action. We get in trouble when we wait for our feelings to determine our actions. 

We can’t simply wait out bad feelings about our work or our homes or our husbands or our children, hoping that eventually we’ll swing magically into good feelings and have the oomph to act on those.

Want good feelings to magically hit? Repent of your bad feelings. Rejoice in the good work, whether you like it or not. Repeat. Inspiration, appreciation, and motivation will follow in the wake of obedience. Obedience will not follow in the wake of waiting on your feelings. 

Organized and on-mission

To be organized like America was by the space race in the 60s is to be locked into a mission, a purpose, that motivates us. Such motivation comes when we are ready to give our full effort, rain or shine. 

Kennedy said that America’s mission was chosen not because it was easy, but because it was hard. In the same way, we might be blocked in our own momentum and motivation because our sights are set too low. We aren’t convinced it’s actually meaningful to have a pleasant, operational home. A vague sense of obligation haunts us, but without clarity or vision. We choose the plan that seems easiest so we can eliminate the vague guilt, but the easy plan doesn’t actually give us purpose; it doesn’t organize our efforts.

Kennedy gave the nation a goal that called forth the best out of its people and inspired them with possibilities that necessitated creativity to achieve. 

Do we even think about “achievement” as something possible in our homemaking? What would you like to achieve in and with your home? Is it a seemingly impossible goal that inspires you? Keep prayerfully brain dumping until you land on such a goal. 

Notice that Kennedy’s audacious goal was not one achievable within a year or even two. Can you set a goal that will chart a course for a whole decade? Now that’s a goal that will organize and measure the best of your energies and skills. 

“Being organized” does not mean moving to easy street where life won’t take so much thought and effort anymore. Such a goal organizes your life around laziness and apathy. So we shouldn’t be surprised when our attempts to get organized don’t work — apathy and laziness can never keep up organization of any kind. They never call forth the best of our energies and skills.

Organized to be serviceable and hospitable

What if we had our own visionary statements like Kennedy’s?

“We choose to keep our homes serviceable and hospitable in this decade, not because it is easy, but because it is hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills.”

The scope of “serviceable and hospitable” is so much more than “bare minimum to skate by.” We will have seasons where we will need a bare minimum version of serviceable and hospitable, and in those seasons this vision still applies. Even minimal energy is still energy worth investing and channeling. 

And in those seasons where there is more energy available, “serviceable and hospitable” can mean more decorating, more cooking, more hostessing — recognizing that we aren’t going for easy mode, but an expansion mode that stretches and challenges us. 

“Serviceable and hospitable” has so much scope to it, so much room for personal expression while still retaining mission and purpose. The potential for growth is vast, while the possibility for maintaining a minimum in tight seasons is also included. We can be working with that missional call even when we are not performing at our peak, when we are not the best we ever have been.

Get organized like a woman

Women must be able to flex. Our energy and availability cycles monthly. The kind of hospitality our minds and bodies offer shifts throughout our life — what is more hospitable than growing another human in our womb? Elaborate dinner parties are not required for hospitality. 

We are humans, giving human-focused, life-giving care and attention. We are not machines to tune up, turn on, and let run. Our homes are also not machines to tune up and turn on, but rather stages for the drama of life. Our job as homemakers is set management, acting and director and producer with our cast and crew. 

Next time you have an urge to get organized, think about the effect, the goal, that you are organizing around, organizing toward. Make it one that calls forth the best of you, not one that is designed to let you off the hook in the end. Imagine what kind of a place you want your home to be in ten years. Get organized to make that possible.

Come to our next free event:

Naomi Marks is a homemaker who lives in a bustling parsonage filled with books, music, and children. Though it may never be perfectly clean, Naomi has discovered a method for maintaining order and cheerfulness in her home that removes the guilt and discouragement so many homemakers feel. She doesn’t aim for perfection, but for consistency—and that mindset shift has made all the difference.

Why Naomi Created a Yearly House Cleaning Plan

With a full house and constant activity, Naomi realized she couldn’t keep everything clean at once. She was overwhelmed by the sense that everything was always behind. Inspired by the idea of baby steps and cheerful consistency, she created a rotating plan: each month would focus on one major room in her house.

By cycling through the entire house each year, she removed the burden of feeling like every closet, drawer, or corner had to be spotless all the time. Instead, she had confidence knowing that each area would get its turn.

"I know that drawer was cleaned once this year and it will be cleaned again next year."

How Her 12-Month Housework Rotation Works

Naomi broke her home into twelve main areas and assigned one room to each month. Then she made a list of 15-minute tasks—never more than 25 per room—and put them into a bingo board. Some tasks were as small as one drawer, one shelf, or one cupboard.

She doesn’t force herself to clean every day, but she always knows where to start when she has time. Sometimes she completes one task per day. Sometimes she does several in a burst. The flexibility helps her stay motivated and consistent.

What Makes Naomi's Plan Effective

This slow-and-steady approach isn’t just practical. It’s freeing. Naomi isn’t cleaning for aesthetics or praise. She’s tending her space with peace and purpose.

• It removes guilt. She no longer feels weighed down by what hasn’t been done.
• It adds clarity. Each month, there’s one clear focus.
• It’s sustainable. Every year the work gets lighter.
• It aligns expectations. She’s building a functioning household, not staging a magazine shoot.

She sees each drawer, shelf, or cupboard as a meaningful piece of a larger whole. By tackling them one at a time, she avoids overwhelm and experiences regular wins.

How She Involves Her Family in Housekeeping

Naomi’s strategy includes help. Her kids pitch in with small jobs like emptying and wiping cupboards. She offers 15 minutes of iPad time as a reward, which gets the job done—and lets her stay focused.

Even her husband asked for a copy of her cleaning chart so he could help hold the kids accountable. Naomi appreciates the structure because, as she puts it, "The system is good. The system is run by all of us who are often lazy and tired."

The more the whole family knows what’s expected, the more smoothly things run. It’s not about a perfect system—it’s about building a cooperative and cheerful rhythm at home.

Start With What You Can Do

Even in years where unexpected messes or emergencies throw off the plan, Naomi simply rearranges. One year she had to reorganize a whole room due to a sewer leak. It wasn’t on the calendar, but it got done—and then she adjusted the rest.

She encourages homemakers to work with the seasons. In her own life, she plans more indoor projects for January through March when life is quieter. She saves lighter or shared spaces for summer when the kids are more available.

"If every day of the year you're cleaning one 365th of your house, it feels like you're getting nowhere. But if you have a plan and can see your progress, it changes everything."

Why This Plan Isn’t Just About Cleaning

Naomi’s goal isn’t to have a spotless house—it’s to cultivate a joyful, functional home where people thrive. Every small task supports that bigger mission.

"I’m not doing this to show it off to anybody. I’m doing it so I have peace in my own heart and I can find what I need when I want it."

Instead of chasing perfection, she builds habits that keep the house running. Instead of getting stuck in discouragement, she stays in motion. And instead of going it alone, she invites her family to join the mission.

"Ultimately, it’s about being free to do what God calls me to do next—without tripping over laundry or digging for clean underwear."

How to Start a Yearly House Cleaning Plan

If you’re overwhelmed and don’t know where to begin, Naomi recommends:

1. Break your home into monthly zones.
2. Brainstorm 15-minute tasks in each zone.
3. Write it down or use a bingo board.
4. Do what you can, when you can.
5. Adjust the plan as needed—but keep going.

Naomi’s approach reminds us that progress in homemaking isn’t about speed or spectacle. It’s about faithfulness—cheerfully stewarding what we’ve been given, one drawer, one shelf, and one day at a time.

Your routines should fit your life.

This guide will help you set up housecleaning routines that work with your preferences, home, and schedule.

Clarissa Ramsey is a wife, homeschooling mom of four, and long-time member of Convivial Circle. She’s also a recovering perfectionist. For years, she lived in a cycle many moms know all too well: going all-in with a great plan, then feeling overwhelmed and defeated when life didn’t cooperate.

The constant pressure to have a clean house, complete to-do lists, and well-behaved children left her cranky, discouraged, and unsure what her real goal even was.

“I was always overwhelmed,” Clarissa shared. “I had these big plans, but my four children didn’t always pick up on the plan. A lot of it was just unrealistic expectations.”

When nothing was going according to plan, her default reaction was frustration. She realized her pattern: “Mommy couldn’t get the kitchen clean, so now I’m in a bad mood.” But eventually, something had to give.

“That’s when I started asking, ‘What is my goal here? Because it’s clearly not getting the to-do list done.’”

And that’s when things began to shift.

The Trap of Perfectionism in Christian Homemaking

Perfectionism told Clarissa that the kitchen needed to be clean before she could feel calm, that she had to have it all figured out ahead of time. But when she stopped to reflect, she saw a bigger picture: “There were more important things to be done—like shepherding my child’s heart.”

She began noticing the signs of her perfectionism: overwhelm, crankiness, discouragement when things went off-script. The turning point was learning to pause, pray, and ask, “What matters most right now?”

Perfectionism shows up in our planning too—not just our standards. It tells us that we can’t begin until the whole system is mapped out and locked in. It wants everything figured out and running like a machine. But real life—especially life with children—is never that tidy.

How to Start Organizing Without Overwhelm

Clarissa didn’t begin with a six-week plan or a vision board. She started with one small tool: the daily card.

That single shift helped her move out of the all-or-nothing mindset that used to paralyze her.

“I’d jump all in and then burn out. But the daily card helped me ask, ‘What are my top three priorities today? What’s actually realistic for this day?’”

It didn’t feel like failure anymore to only do a few things—because they were the right things.

“The daily card gave me quick wins. I began to learn what I could really do in a day. And that helped me start each day with confidence instead of stress.”

From there, she added the weekly review. “I needed to plan ahead for birthdays or appointments. The weekly review helped me see what was coming and what I needed to prepare. I didn’t have to keep everything in my head anymore.”

Eventually, Clarissa tackled interval planning—the most intimidating step for her.

“Six weeks felt like too much. But I saw it working for other women in Convivial Circle, and I decided to just try. It wasn’t perfect the first time, but it was so helpful. And it got easier with practice.”

Why Baby Steps Beat Big Overhauls

Clarissa discovered what so many overwhelmed moms miss: starting small actually gets you further:

“I wanted to improve everything all at once, but I had to begin where I was. The daily card let me practice every day. It helped me see what worked. It gave me confidence to try the next step.”

Instead of expecting herself to set up the whole system first, she let the system grow with her. “Each tool helped me get better at managing my time and energy. I could try it out, tweak it, and eventually make it a habit.”

When perfectionism says, “If it doesn’t work the first time, give up,” cheerful productivity says, “Try again—now with more information.”

A Simple Way to Help an Overwhelmed Homemaker Get Started

If you’re overwhelmed and unsure where to begin, Clarissa offers this advice:

1. Encourage yourself with what is working. Start from a place of grace.
2. Pray. Ask the Lord for focus and clarity.
3. Brain dump. Write down what’s bothering you and what you want.
4. Name your goal. What does “a clean house” or “a better day” mean to you? Define it.
5. Break it into baby steps. What’s the smallest action you can take today?
6. Start anyway. It won’t be perfect, but it can still work.

“If your house feels chaotic, or everything feels urgent, it’s because you haven’t thought through how to approach your day. The daily card helped me step into that role of being intentional. It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to begin.”

Planning for Peace, Not Perfection

Clarissa says one of the biggest mindset shifts was realizing her days didn’t have to be dictated by urgency.

“Now, when something feels urgent, I stop and ask: ‘Is this really the most important thing right now?’”

That pause makes room for prayer, perspective, and redirection. It’s no longer about executing the plan perfectly—it’s about growing in faithfulness.

“I still fall into it sometimes. But now I notice it. When I start to feel overwhelmed or cranky, I know that’s my signal to pause, pray, and refocus.”

Perfection Isn’t the Goal—Progress Is

“I wanted everything figured out ahead of time, but now I know that growth happens through practice,” Clarissa says. “My plans don’t need to be perfect. They just need to get me started.”

If you’ve ever burned out trying to do everything just right, let Clarissa’s story remind you: You don’t need to wait for the perfect moment. Begin with what’s in front of you. Start with a daily card. Do your next baby step.

And keep going—even if it’s messy.

Cheerful productivity isn’t about getting it all done. It’s about doing the next thing with gratitude, trusting that God is at work through every imperfect effort.

Try the Beat Burnout Bingo Challenge

Small wins, stacked up and noticed, will beat your burnout.

Stop drifting and swirling at the whim of your emotions. Using this game format and noticing the progress you can make in 5 and 10 minutes will renew your attitude about yourself and your home.

When I was newly married, graduated from college and back in my hometown with no children yet and no desire for a job, I taught a language arts class at a local homeschool enrichment coop. Over the course of Friday morning, four different age groups cycled through my room and we read St. George and the Dragon and Beowulf aloud, practicing grammar knowledge with sentences I pulled from what we read. I was an idealistic English major twenty-year-old.

My class was not supposed to be anyone’s full language arts; it was entirely supplemental. What the moms and kids all told me was that this coop was their day out of the house with friends. They signed up for the opportunity to make friends, not to be educated. Education they were doing at home.

Not worth the time

I sympathized. I grew up homeschooled. The weeks at home can be long and tedious. Siblings know how to push one another’s buttons and get into ruts of just doing so with no reason to act civilly. Church was where we made our friends and Sunday the only day we played with friends. Most Sundays either I would go home with a friend or a friend would come home with us after church, to be returned at evening service. My mom didn’t do coops — not worth the time to pack everyone up and out of the house.

After a few weeks of teaching at the coop, I knew my mom was right. Each hour 10-12 kids cycled into my room, sitting around the table for the next supplemental, extra, doesn’t-really-matter class. This is how they spent Friday mornings, paying for their opportunity to finally play with friends at lunchtime. 

They were squirrelly. They didn’t pay attention. They didn’t care. They messed with one another. And I had no reason to be stern. My class didn’t matter, and we all knew it. Choosing books with dragons and battles that were a bit above them, I did hold their attention much more than silly crafts or workbook pages, but I was working a tough crowd — not because they weren’t good kids, but because all they wanted was to make friends, yet the majority of the time they had with said friends had to be spent sitting around the table being mostly silent and still. 

Friends need time to play

When my own homeschooled kids were of an age to need friends, we did not do coops. Actually, a friend of mine from church had started a mom’s group for a handful of us that all had our first babies within a year. We met weekly for coffee, playtime, and lunch. At first, it was just 6 moms and 5 babies. Ten years later we were still meeting, but then with 5 moms and 19 kids. 

Instead of leaving playgroup for academic options, we arranged our plans to accommodate the real friend play time available. Free play with the kids you’ve grown up with and go to church with is so much more valuable than sitting in on an extra class with crafts and enforced table time. School and friends don’t have to mix, as long as there’s time built in for both. 

Friend time also doesn’t need the excuse of academics to make it valid. Friends are good in their own right. Play is good in its own right. It’s ok to make time on the calendar for both, even if there are no school goals being met.

Unorganized time is better

In fact, the friend and play time is most likely more valuable if it is less organized. Kids learn from stretches of time to occupy themselves, to create games with others, to accommodate a group creatively, to mix and learn how interact “in the wild” and not only in preset, highly managed scenarios. Of course the moms should be nearby, keeping an eye and ear open, but we need to also second-guess our impulses to interfere. 

I think the same principle holds true for mom friendships as well. In our playgroup setting, we also learned how to interact “in the wild,” over long stretches of time - a few hours every week for years and years. We weren’t forcing or rushing friendships. We weren’t trying to accomplish anything. For the children and for our church community, we kept at it, overlooking minor differences and not allowing our toes to be stepped on as others made different choices. 

We didn’t do anything special, really. No book club. No activities. No extra phone calls. No texting. We just ended up doing life together by sharing life on a weekly basis.

Mom friendships, too

At one point with a single toddler, pregnant with #2, I thought maybe I should try to expand my acquaintance circle beyond my home church. I joined a MOPs group in town. I don’t remember now if I lasted 3 or only 2 months. 

In part, it seemed like my co-op experience again, but this time with moms. Just getting together for coffee and chatting while helping with laundry folding was not legit. To make friends, women need childcare, a devotional, and a craft — except that in this highly programmed environment, there was no real way to get to know anyone. We were divided up into small groups at tables, but all that happened between organized segments was complaining about husbands (or boyfriends!) and children.

A group of complainers don’t want to hear your gratitude about your husband. As far as I could tell, no one was actually interested in doing better or learning more. And, I realized I was not comfortable giving my toddler over to a nursery program where I knew none of the volunteers. So, I quit MOPs.

Our casual playgroup = friends for kids and moms!

How was playgroup different? Firstly, zero crafts. That is a huge bonus. No chotskies came home with me. 

Secondly, we were all theologically on the same page, receiving the same teaching week by week, and gratitude was preferred over complaining. 

Thirdly, to have anything to talk about, we pretty much had to share the little trivia and trials of daily life as new moms, then of daily life as each new season hit. We did it with a desire for sanctification and learning and troubleshooting, not of mere complaining and sympathy. 

Sharing real, full life - joyfully

So because of our weekly playgroup, I gained 6x the motherhood experience I would have if I’d been doing it alone. I had a broadened understanding of what was normal — not just from reading, but from actually *seeing* it. I *saw* other moms mother their children through situations. 

We picked up phrases and tactics from one another. We thought of new ways to handle housework, naps, rashes, tantrums, dinner, lunch, and all the other daily realities of mom life because we were generously and graciously sharing our experiences with one another, open to thoughts and suggestions.

Our gatherings were unscripted, unprogrammed, without agenda or plan. We just spent time together: being moms, socializing our children, and eating together. I had never eaten zucchini or red bell pepper before playgroup. My whole life was expanded in almost every way by our very casual but regular playgroup.

Friends are not based on feeling

Playgroup was an anchor in our long weeks when all the children were small. It was then when I lost our third baby in the second trimester that I realized that I really did have real friends in these ladies. I thought I’d go to keep life normal for my little boys and so that I wouldn’t have anyone asking why I skipped, but I’d keep my fresh, devastating news to myself. 

Yet when I came in, sitting down on the floor with my one-year-old, I suddenly started crying. My friends needed no organization system to start taking care of things. We didn’t need any official meal train. They brought me books, movies, and food while I waited and while I recovered.

We think we need programs and official organization for women to form friendships and take care of one another, but we really don’t.

We need to let one another into our real lives. Share openly in our real spaces, take care of our children together, talk about meal plans and chore routines and all the mundanities. It doesn’t have to look impressive or spiritual for God to knit our hearts together into a real community - one that loves each other’s children because we’ve seen them in their good and bad moments at every age, one that notices when something is not right and takes care of the hurting member. 

Friendship isn’t first and foremost a feeling you share with another. It isn’t found in micromanaged official programs you can “plug into.” 

It takes time — years, even — living together, caring for one another, talking shop about home and motherhood and life. Spend time in one another’s homes and with one another’s children. Do that, and one day you will suddenly realize that, where you least expected it, you have found friends.

Series on friendship from Simply Convivial Podcast:

Joanna Forrester is a wife of 13 years, a homeschooling mother of five—including two sets of twins—and a thoughtful steward of her home. She enjoys delving into both the philosophical depth and practical realities of homemaking, recognizing that daily faithfulness shapes the atmosphere of her household.

With a keen mind for both big-picture thinking and hands-on management, Joanna brings a reflective and intentional approach to her roles, always seeking to refine her work with wisdom and grace.

You'll enjoy listening to our conversation on the Simply Convivial Podcast!

How we talk to ourselves about our work shapes how we experience it. We might not even realize it, but the words we use—our inner narrative—can either build us up or tear us down. When we think of homemaking as a mechanical system to optimize, we start treating ourselves like machines, expecting efficiency and consistency. But we’re not machines—we’re living beings. And as living beings, we function in seasons, with rhythms of work and rest, growth and pruning.

Are You Thinking Like a Machine?

Many of us operate under the assumption that productivity is the goal. If we don’t check off our entire to-do list, if we didn’t accomplish something tangible, then we believe we “did nothing.” But that’s not true.

If you woke up, fed your children, changed diapers, taught a lesson, or prepared a meal, you were productive—even if it didn’t feel that way. Too often, we tell ourselves a false story: “I didn’t get anything done today.” But that’s a lie.

The truth is that homemaking is full of unseen, ongoing, and repetitive work. Work that doesn’t result in a completed project at the end of the day is still fruitful work.

This shift—from measuring productivity to recognizing fruitfulness—is critical. The work of homemaking isn’t about maximizing efficiency. It’s about faithfulness.

Stop Lying to Yourself

Changing our mindset starts with recognizing the lies we tell ourselves. When we say, “I didn’t do anything today,” we are dismissing the real, valuable work we did. If we constantly reinforce that message in our own heads, we start to believe it. And that discouragement seeps into how we talk to our husbands, how we model work for our children, and how we view our own worth.

What if, instead, we acknowledged the work we’ve done? Instead of saying, “I got nothing done,” we could say, “I cared for my family today. I showed up and did what needed to be done.” That small shift changes our perception and allows us to see our work rightly.

Embrace Seasons and Rhythms of Work

Homemaking isn’t a static process—it ebbs and flows. Mondays feel different from Saturdays. Some weeks are packed with energy, while others require more rest. Instead of fighting this natural variation, plan for it. Expect that some seasons will be slower, and that’s not failure—it’s life.

A crucial part of this shift is resting before you need it. Many of us treat rest as a reward: “Once I get everything done, I can sit down.” But you will never get everything done. There will always be another load of laundry, another meal to prep, another mess to clean. Rest isn’t something we earn—it’s something we need.

By building rest into our days intentionally, we prevent burnout. When we take the time to pause—whether by reading for 20 minutes, stepping outside, or simply sitting still—we refuel. And when we refuel, we’re better prepared for the next round of work.

A New Story for Your Homemaking

Instead of chasing an ideal of constant efficiency, we can recognize that homemaking is living work. It doesn’t follow a straight line or a formula.

It’s not a checklist to complete but a calling to fulfill. And when we embrace that truth, we stop striving for impossible perfection and start finding peace in the work itself.

Change your story, and you will change how you experience your homemaking.

Take the first step to organize your attitude.

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