Rediscovering God’s design for family in a world that sees children as a burden

I have mostly been off of social media entirely since early January when I got my new “dumb-ish” phone for my birthday. But even so, news reached me that Hannah Neeleman from Ballarina Farms had her 9th baby. And that the internet has imploded over it.

I’m honestly not sure what is so shocking about a Mormon mom, who’s had 8 previous babies, presumably every 1/5 – 2 years for over a decade, now having one more child. Like, don’t you expect it by now? But nevertheless, baby #9 is here, and the interwebs have strong feelings about it.

Not being a Mormon myself, or particularly interested in what Instagram influencers are up to, I am not here to defend Hannah’s family or enter into any debate about their life, their finances, or how they live their life (or portray it online). What I am particularly interested in, however, is this backlash against the simple fact that she would dare to have 9 children. “Hannah, don’t you know that you are not supposed to have more than 1.6 children? Anything more is outrageous and clearly immoral!”

The outrageous thing is that the United States has fallen to a birthrate of just 1.6 children per woman(1), which is now tragically below the replacement rate, and is a record low. We are seeing this same trend over most of the developed world, including Canada (1.4), virtually all of Europe (with a combined birth rate of 1.4), Japan (1.3), South Korea (0.8), Australia & New Zealand (1.6 each), among others. If you are someone who believes the world is overpopulated and that this change is good because immigrants will come in and do all the jobs needed, or that technology and AI will replace all of the jobs needed, we can still be friends, but we will not agree on this issue. You might want to go on your merry way to a different article.

Our two sets of twin boys, back to back! 

Because of the birth rates that have been falling for decades, when you go outside your home with two cheery, or two cranky, toddlers, you will hear over and over again “Wow, you’ve got your hands full!” or if anyone is having a tough time being out past naptime or just being a toddler, you will get nasty comments and looks. (This is a topic for another day, but I do think two things are happening here: on the one hand, no one disciplines anymore, and children are allowed to run wild in public spaces and can genuinely be a nuisance. We are tired of parents not teaching and training their children, and so any outburst, noise, or even laughter from someone under 5 feet tall is looked at with a side eye or outright sneering. We, as a society, have forgotten what it’s like to have children around. We’ve forgotten that they are entitled to live and take up space as much as any adult. We’ve forgotten that children are precious and that they are learning how to be adults and members of society, and such training needs to happen in the real world. It’s as if our tiredness of permissive parenting has convinced an entire society of adults that 100% of all children are ill-behaved and a nuisance. But I digress…)

Our society can no longer fathom how someone could have 5-9 children, and that it must be impossible. What we forget is that until about 3.5 seconds ago, this was the norm. And don’t come at me with “Well, rates of infant mortality were higher.” Yes, and families still had a lot of kids who grew to adulthood. You can disagree on the reasons why they had so many children, but the fact remains that generations upon generations of women raised more than 4 children and did it successfully.

So, back to Hannah.

A viral tweet when the news broke relays the sentiments of a large portion of my generation: “You cannot give nine children adequate time, attention, and connection.” This sparked articles and comments arguing that large families bordered on child abuse, that large families are oppressive or ignorant, and that mothers (and children) in large families are miserable. As someone with a whole lot of experience in this area, I’ve been mulling this all over for days.

But I haven’t been mulling it over when it comes to Hannah. I’ve been mulling it over because moms in this generation need to know that there is another way to have a family than the 1.6 children they see in society. Families need to be encouraged that you can have a large family and that it can be a joy and a blessing. I love looking back through old literature or hearing stories of great-great-grandmas raising their brood, but it’s hard for us to connect with these stories on a personal level.

We read about Ma Ingalls raising her larger-than-normal family (by today’s standards, anyway) in a dugout without electricity, running water, or an urgent care to run to when the cough turns deep in the chest. We are inspired by the rugged courage it took to be a mom back then, and we might even pick up a tip or two. But by and large, we don’t know how to connect the lessons we see from Ma Ingalls or Marmee with those of our very modern world, juggling soccer practice, grocery pick-up, social media, dating, lack of community, and so much more. In so many ways we see, we have it so much easier than “back then,” and yet in others, it seems impossibly harder.

18 months later, we welcomed our 1 precious girl!

If we are firm in the fact that children are a blessing from the Lord, then we also know there IS a way to raise 3-4 children, 5-6 children, or even more in a good, godly, and wonderful way. For the past year or so, it’s often been on my mind that American (and Western) women need a better blueprint for raising children. We are now a couple of generations out from larger families being even somewhat common. We don’t need to be learning from the Hannah Neeleman’s of the world or the latest Instagrammer (I am thankful for some of the good and godly voices there sharing the positive (and the hard) sides of raising kids like Abbie Halberstadt – M.is.for.Mama and Elisha and Katie Voetberg of Now That We’re A Family), but rather from the mother sitting a church pew away from you, wrangling her five children, 7 and under. Or the mom fielding college applications and nursing a baby at the same time. Or the experience of the older mom welcoming grandchildren into the family.

I launched a project last spring that I think I’m finally ready to pick back up. I am the oldest of 4 siblings (along with a half-sister I sadly did not get to grow up with). Even at the time, I didn’t consider myself from a large family, but my mom constantly got comments asking if we were all from the same dad (even though we share such a strong family resemblance) and remarking on what a large family we were! My husband, however, is the oldest of 7 kids, very much a large family by today’s standards.

I always said I wanted a large family, and 6 was my ideal number of the largest family I could fathom. My husband said he wanted more like 4. So we compromised and said 5 was the perfect number. All young couples are idealistic when they have these conversations because, of course, they have no idea how many children they will indeed one day want, nor indeed the number of children they will actually be able to have! 

But 5 children came and went, and we realized that the “ideal” number for us kept moving up. Now, we have 8 beautiful children, ages 13 down to 1. So, not quite the 9 that Hannah now has, but I think I’m close enough to speak on this topic. Plus, we have the benefit of Jason having grown up in a large family with all 7 adult children still loving and walking with the Lord – Praise be to God!

At the beginning of last year, I read the terrific book, Hannah’s Children (totally unrelated to the Hannah mentioned above), and it got my wheels spinning. Hannah’s Children: The Women Quietly Defying the Birth Dearth explores why some women in modern Western culture (it might just be centered on the US, I can’t remember now) choose large families despite declining birth rates, highlighting their values, motivations, and sense of purpose. The book argues that their choices challenge mainstream assumptions about fulfillment, success, and family life.

Overall, great book, and I highly recommend it. However, it interviews any woman with 5 or more children, regardless of faith. And it really only gets into their motivation for having a large family. I would like to go about 5 steps beyond that. I am focusing on Christian women because our faith highly impacts how we raise our children. And I’m not only interested in what motivates Christian women to have 5 or more children, but what common principles we can draw from the families who have raised a large family well.

And since then we’ve added 3 more sons to the mix, making us a family of 10!

It’s no secret that it takes a lot to raise a large family. There are so many schedules to juggle, education to oversee, finances to count, food to cook, and love and attention to go around. So, as Christian women, how do we do this well? How do we practically and spiritually raise a brood of kids who love the Lord and develop a strong family connection? How do mothers of many do this with health, vitality, and vigor? There are so many flavors of good family cultures, different personalities, and different family sizes (a family with 4 kids will function a bit differently than a family with 12) that I don’t think it’s a one-size-fits-all answer. But I do think there are so many wise women who are quietly living this out. And until our congregations and neighborhoods are full of larger families again, it’s a good thing to be able to learn from those around the country or the globe.

How do we steward a large family well? 

I have collected email addresses from over 100 Christian women (not Mormon, not another faith) with 6 or more children who are going to participate in a study that I’m putting together. We have mothers who are deep in the trenches with 6 kids, 8 and under. We have mothers sandwiched in the middle who are bouncing a baby on their knees and teaching their teens to drive. And most importantly, we have mothers who have raised their 6+ children, and all of those children are still walking with the Lord. I am particularly interested in this segment to see if we can pick up some common threads that contributed to this (I think quality talking time will be a recurring theme, but we’ll see)!

I have plans of turning this study into a book, and I would love the prayers along the way. This will not be a quick turnaround, but I do think it has the potential to be a very significant project. I will, Lord willing, provide updates as we go into it. This week, I will be formulating the study questions and getting initial information out to study participants (Let me know if you have any burning questions you want me to ask)!

So, in the spirit of the Hannah Neeleman controversy and getting inspired for my new study, I’ll be doing a series of articles on the topic. Here’s what I’ll tentatively be covering:

• The blessings of a large family
• The pitfalls of a large family
• You actually get better at this (addressing the concern that one person can’t mother this many)
• Addressing the no-time-for-one-on-one myth
• Parentification of the kids
• Mom’s health and vitality
• The question of birth control
• Educating a brood
• Finances and what is “the good life?”

I am inviting you to join me in this series, not because I have all the answers (far from it), but because I think we need to be asking the questions.

(1) https://publichealth.jhu.edu/2026/is-the-us-birth-rate-decliningaud

Part of my renewed vigor with reading is that it has now been 4+ years since I’ve gone this long without being pregnant. In fact, 2026 might be the first year that I will not have a nursing baby or be pregnant since 2019 (7 years, wow)! In fact, I’ve only had two years (2013 and 2018) since 2011 that I have not been pregnant or had a baby under 1. Holy moly, when you put it that way, I need to give myself a lot more grace for my failing routines. I say that partially in jest and partially in truth.

Only the Lord knows what is ahead but my focus this year is building back up my body, my strength, and hopefully some braincells while I’m at it! It feels like a year wide open for good routines and nurturing parts of my health that have gotten neglected as of late.

I know you landed on this post to read my 40 before 40 list of classics I’m attempting to tackle over the next 4 years, but for me, the context matters. I think I’m finally ready to tackle some of these more daunting reads. And more than that, I’m excited to!

Jason and I have each taken on a big reading goal. We will turn 40 and 42 just 3 weeks apart from each other. So I made my 40 list and he made a 42 list. We have a lot of overlap but many changes too (books either of us has already read and he replaced the homemaking books on my list with others). This gives us just under 4 years to complete this list. So at a pace of 10 books per year, I think we can do it!

Now technically, my list is actually 44 books long. I counted C.S. Lewis’s Space Trilogy in one spot an then ended up adding two more books to the end of the list. I’m on a big classics binge right now and I want to read those anyway, so might as well add them to my list!

My reading list is based on working through the entire Western Canon. Also refer to this article for a crash course in the classics or for starting your own 40 before 40 list. I’m already looking forward to my 50 before 50 list.

Jami’s 40 Before 40 Reading List:

Classic Literature & Story: 

1. Jane Eyre – Charlotte Brontë

2. Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen

3. East of Eden – John Steinbeck

4. Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy

5. Middlemarch – George Eliot

6. Great Expectations – Charles Dickens

7. Bleak House – Charles Dickens

8. Wuthering Heights – Emily Brontë

9. The Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas and Auguste Maquet

10. The Age of Innocence – Edith Wharton

11. Gone with the Wind – Margaret Mitchell

12. Rebecca – Daphne du Maurier

13. Gullivers Travels – Jonathan Swift

14. Silas Marner – George Eliot

Epic & Philosophical Literature: 

15. The Divine Comedy – Dante Alighieri

16. The Aeneid – Virgil

17. The Odyssey – Homer

18. Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoevsky

19. The Brothers Karamazov – Fyodor Dostoevsky

20. The Faerie Queene – Edmund Spenser

21.L es Misérables – Victor Hugo

22. Don Quixote – Miguel de Cervantes

Christian Faith, Family, & Home:

23. The Hidden Art of Homemaking – Edith Schaeffer

24. What Is a Family? – Edith Schaeffer

25. A Chance to Die – Elisabeth Elliot

26. Orthodoxy – G.K. Chesterton

27. Pilgrim’s Progress – John Bunyan

28. The Space Trilogy – C.S. Lewis

29. Life Under Compulsion – Anthony Esolen

30. How Should We Then Live? – Francis Schaeffer

31. On the Incarnation – Athanasius

History, Philosophy & Formation: 

32. Meditations – Marcus Aurelius

33. Pensées – Blaise Pascal

34. Plutarch’s Lives – Plutarch

35. Church History – Eusebius

36. Foxe’s Book of Martyrs – John Foxe

37. In Defense of Tradition – Richard Weaver

38. The Gulag Archipelago – Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

39. Lonesome Dove – Larry McMurtry

40. Kristin Lavransdatter – Sigrid Undset

42. Canterbury Tales – Geoffrey Chaucer

Another goal that I will slowly be working through (without a timeline) is reading all of the works of a few particular authors including:

• George McDonald
• C.S. Lewis
• J.R.R. Tolkien
• Jane Austen
• Charles Dickens
• Edith Schaeffer
• Franics Schaeffer
• G. K. Chesterton
• John Steinbeck

Jason and I both just got our lists finalized and I’m off to a good start! I just finished Pride & Prejuide and then dove into Emma. Emma isn’t on my list but I am working on reading all of Austen. I took a break from Emma though because my book club is reading Cranford, another book not on my list but well worth a read! I will be diving into What is a Family by Edith Shaeffer next. I started this years ago and never finished it.

I’ll add some 40 before 40 reading updates for you throughout the year! Have you created a similar reading list? I’d love to know what you think I need to start adding to my 50 before 50 list!

When I first got married, I was behind.

Admittedly, I was only nineteen. That alone explains part of it. But if I am completely honest, I do not think that five more years would have made much difference. Even if I had finished college as a single woman instead of a married one, even if I had waited until twenty-four or twenty-five, I do not believe I would have been significantly more prepared to run a home.

Like many women of my generation, I had spent my teenage and young adult years focused on school, grades, college applications, part-time jobs, and preparing for a future career. I learned how to write essays and take exams. I learned how to meet deadlines and navigate academic systems. What I did not learn was how to manage a household.

No one had intentionally taught me how to plan meals, build cleaning rhythms, grocery shop on a budget, manage my time within the context of a family, or establish spiritual habits inside a home. I stepped into marriage with good intentions, but very few practical skills.

Over the years, I have realized that my experience is far from unique. I regularly hear from women in their twenties, thirties, and even forties who are just now coming to the quiet realization that they do not actually know how to run a home well. They feel overwhelmed, scattered, and constantly behind, but they cannot quite identify why.

I believe this is one of the great unspoken struggles for modern women.

It is not because life is harder than it used to be. (It most ways, it’s not! We have ovens, washing machines, dishwashers, grocery delivery, and hot running water.)

Nor is it simply because we lack a “village,” though community certainly matters. Ma Ingalls managed an entire homestead, often snowed in for months at a time, without seeing another soul. There were seasons when there truly was no village. Community is a blessing, but it is not the sole explanation for why we struggle.

The deeper issue is this: many of us were never taught the skills.

Some of us were not shown. Some of us were not interested at the time. Many of us were swept up in a culture that prioritized academic achievement, career preparation, and constant outward productivity. Practical domestic skills were often treated as secondary, optional, or often outdated.

As I teach my own children now, I see this gap more clearly than ever. My older children, between the ages of nine and thirteen, already possess more hands-on, practical life skills than I did when I was newly married. They can cook simple meals, manage basic chores independently, and understand the rhythms of our home. Watching them grow in competence has made me realize just how much harder it is to build a stable home when those skills are missing at the beginning.

Yet here is the hopeful part of the story.

Not having the skills at nineteen did not determine the trajectory of my life. Over time, I chose to learn. I embraced the domestic arts gradually and imperfectly. I learned how to meal plan without panic. I learned how to cook three meals a day. I learned how to garden, preserve food, and ferment kefir and kombucha. I learned how to build systems that keep a household of ten functioning with relative order. It is not flawless—far from it—but it is steady and intentional.

And I did not learn these things as a child sitting at my grandmother’s elbow (I wish!). I learned them as an adult.

Which means this: if you feel behind, your story is not over. You are not disqualified. You are simply at the beginning of your learning curve.

And that is a very hopeful place to be.

How to Grow as a Homemaker (Without Feeling Behind)

There is a quiet pressure that many women carry in their homemaking. It rarely gets spoken aloud, but it often sounds something like this: I should be further along by now. Why does everyone else seem so organized? Why can’t I keep up? Why does this feel harder than it looks online?

If you have ever felt behind in your homemaking, I want to begin by gently reframing that thought. You are not necessarily behind. More often than not, you are simply growing.

Growth in homemaking does not happen overnight. It unfolds slowly, intentionally, and often quietly. It is built through faithfulness in ordinary days. Understanding this changes everything.

Let’s look at what growth in homemaking actually requires.

1. Recognize That Homemaking Is Learned

Very few of us were handed a complete blueprint for running a home. Most of us picked up scattered pieces along the way — perhaps from our mothers, perhaps from observation, perhaps through trial and error. We burned dinners. We tried elaborate systems that failed. We quit, adjusted, and tried again.

Homemaking is not instinctive perfection. It is a learned skill set.

Cooking is learned. Budgeting is learned. Meal planning is learned. Time management is learned. Even establishing spiritual rhythms in a household is learned.

When you understand this, something in your brain shifts. Instead of concluding, “I am bad at this,” you can more accurately say, “I am still learning.” And indeed, “I CAN learn this!”

And learning, by definition, takes time (and a little elbow grease).

2. Move from Motivation to Discipline

One of the most significant turning points in my own growth as a homemaker came when I realized that motivation is unreliable, but discipline builds homes.

There were countless days when I did not feel inspired to cook from scratch, reset the kitchen yet again, plan the week ahead, or wake early to read my Bible. If I had waited for inspiration, very little would have been accomplished.

Growth does not come from waiting until we feel ready. It comes from small, repeated acts of obedience.

Discipline may sound rigid, but in practice it is deeply freeing. When you build consistent rhythms, you are no longer forced to decide from scratch each day what needs to be done. You stop reinventing your week. You move out of constant reaction and into intentionally using your time well.

Discipline creates stability and stability fosters peace.

3. Build Rhythms Instead of Relying on Crisis

Much of the feeling of being “behind” comes from randomness. We clean only when the house reaches a breaking point. We plan meals only when the refrigerator is empty. We pray only when we are desperate. We organize only when the clutter becomes unbearable.

This cycle creates constant stress.

Growth begins when you replace randomness with gentle, repeatable rhythms. This looks like a weekly meal planning time or a simple daily reset habit. It might include a consistent morning routine and a weekly planning session.

You do not need dozens of complicated systems. In fact, too many systems can create more overwhelm. What you need are a few faithful rhythms that anchor your home (and most importantly, that your brain can turn on autopilot)! If you’ve ever felt the mental load of trying to juggle everything, often the overwhelm comes from not knowing how to do any of it well and feeling that constant stress of keeping all these new things in your brain at once!

Small consistency over time produces steady progress.

4. Remove What Is Quietly Distracting You

One of the more uncomfortable truths I have had to face is this: often it was not that I lacked time, it was that I allowed distractions to consume it.

Endless scrolling, constant background noise, comparison. An endless stream of advice and opinions. A sense that I should be doing more, achieving more, or keeping up with someone else’s standard.

If you regularly feel behind, it is worth asking what is quietly pulling your attention away from what matters most. And pulling your attention away from your own home. 

Growth in homemaking often begins with subtraction before addition. Less noise, fewer voices, and clearer priorities.

When distraction decreases, clarity increases.

5. Define Success Biblically, Not Culturally

Modern culture defines success in ways that are often exhausting. A beautiful home must be spotless. A good mother must do everything flawlessly. Productivity determines worth. Busyness signals importance.

But scripture paints a different picture.

A faithful homemaker loves her family, serves diligently, builds with wisdom, and fears the Lord. Her faithfulness may be unseen by the world, but it is deeply significant in God’s kingdom.

Growth in homemaking is not about achieving a Pinterest-perfect aesthetic or being an instagram influencer. It is about cultivating faithfulness, in the everyday.

And faithfulness is rarely dramatic. It is repetitive, it is ordinary, and it is steady. Yet it is powerful beyond measure.

6. Focus on One Area at a Time

Another reason many women feel perpetually behind is that they attempt to fix everything at once. They try to overhaul their cleaning routines, health habits, meal planning, spiritual life, and organization systems simultaneously.

This approach almost always leads to discouragement.

Instead, choose one focus for a season. Perhaps you decide that this month you will learn consistent meal planning. Perhaps this quarter you will establish a workable cleaning rhythm. Perhaps this year you will strengthen your spiritual disciplines.

Growth compounds. When you master one skill well, it strengthens every other area of your home.

7. Remember That You Are Building a Legacy

Homemaking is not primarily about completing today’s to-do list. It is about shaping the atmosphere and direction of your home over decades. When you have the big picture in mind, it’s easier to be faitfhful with today’s small load, even if that means trying to learn one new recipe.

Your children are unlikely to remember the messy Tuesday or the burnt casserole. They will remember warmth, stability, laughter, and the quiet faithfulness that marked your days.

You are not behind. You are building something lasting.

If You Want to Grow More Intentionally

For over twelve years, I have created courses, conferences, planning systems, and digital tools to help women grow in these exact areas — building rhythms, creating home management systems, meal planning consistently, strengthening spiritual disciplines, setting purposeful goals, simplifying health, and reducing overwhelm.

For the first time in two years, our full legacy digital library, the courses, conferences, eBooks, and printable systems that were previously sold individually, is available inside our Vault for lifetime access.

Everything is priced at $5 or $10 (normal price is $19-$99 each!)
Or you can purchase the complete Vault bundle for $99.

–> Check out our vault sale here!

But hurry, this incredibly limited time sale ends Monday, March 9th!

These are the same systems that helped me grow from overwhelmed and inexperienced to steady and intentional. They are not magic solutions, but they are practical tools for real progress.

Whether you choose to explore those resources or simply begin where you are today, remember this:

Growth is slow.
Faithfulness matters.
And you are not behind.

You are growing.

I am deep in the part of my gardening year where I am SUPER excited… and also starting to wonder if maybe I did too much.

If you garden, you know this feeling.

January and February are all hope and seed packets and plans. Everything feels possible. And then suddenly your dining room table is covered in milk cartons and seed trays and you’re counting how many varieties of peppers you started and thinking, “Oh dear.”

But here’s something I’ve learned in my still-limited gardening experience: I would rather feel like I did too much than look back in July and wish I had done more.

Because once the moment passes for the year, it’s often too late to go back and start over. You have a small window to restart your pepper plants if they didn’t germinate — but not much time. If you miss it, you miss it. There’s no rewinding the growing season.

So this year I’m operating off one big question: What do I want my harvest to look like come mid-summer?

Not what feels easy in February.
Not what feels manageable in the moment.
But what will bless our family in July, August, and September.

Right now, it feels like a lot to take on and juggle. But I also know that 2027 Jami is going to GREATLY thank me for the work I’m putting in today as I establish a brand new garden at our new house.

What We’ve Started So Far

This year I’m leaning hard into what we already have and what costs the least.

In milk cartons (because they’re free and we go through 4–6 gallons of milk per week ):

• Utah Celery

• Chives

• Peppermint

• Peppers: Anaheim chili, small red chili, cayenne, early jalapeño, and sweet pickle

• Rosemary

Are milk cartons glamorous? No.

Are they free and surprisingly effective? Yes.

And when you’re growing this much, free matters.

In my cell trays, I just started yesterday:

• Pink Chinese celery

• White Creole onions

• Wild bergamot

• Bee balm (Spielarten mix)

• Stevia

• Agastache

• Echinacea

• Garden huckleberries

• Blackberry huckleberries

• Tresca strawberries

• Tomatoes: San Marzano, Caribe, and Chadwick cherry

• Yarrow

• Cauliflower

Every time I look at the trays I feel that little spark of excitement. Tiny green starts are such a picture of hope. It’s wild to think that in just a few months these fragile little seedlings could be towering tomato plants and baskets of strawberries.

This week I still need to:

• Direct sow cilantro

• Direct sow broccoli

At our new house, we have one raised bed that’s ready to go, so I can at least start there while we get the rest of the garden prepped.

And that brings me to the big project…

The Lasagna Garden (a.k.a. The Cardboard Situation)

This year, because of cost and because of how large I want this garden to be, we decided not to do raised beds.

For the first time, we’re trying a lasagna garden.

We started by laying down cardboard to smother the grass and build up from there. I thought we had plenty of cardboard.

We did not.

Not even close.

We didn’t even have half of what we need. So now we’re collecting more cardboard, asking friends, saving every box, and picking up soil this weekend to start building the rows.

Right now?

It looks like a mess.

Truly. It looks like we just dumped recycling all over the yard. But I’m trusting the process. I’m reminding myself that most worthwhile things look unimpressive at the beginning.

I’m hoping that in a few weeks it starts to actually resemble a garden.

My Tasks for Next Week in the Garden

Because February energy is high and if I don’t write this down, I will absolutely forget something

Here’s what’s on the agenda for next week:

• Start my next round of seeds

• Direct sow everything I need to in my one raised bed outside

• Finish laying down the cardboard

• Have Jason pick up a soil/compost mix on Saturday with his truck

• Lay down the soil and start forming the rows

• Hope we get a truckload of wood chips from ChipDrop.com soon

If not… I’ll probably add the $20 tip and see if that helps move us up the list.

Once the soil is down and the wood chips (hopefully!) arrive, the beds should finally start looking like an actual garden instead of a recycling center. And I think that will make everything feel more manageable. There’s something about structure and visible progress that calms the overwhelm.

At that point, we’ll be in such a good place: beds prepped, seeds started, direct sowing underway. That’s when it really begins to feel real.

A Little Deck Garden, Too

I also have this little side mission: I want to create a small container garden on our deck.

I’ve been hunting for large containers that are cheap or repurposable. I refuse to pay full price for giant planters if I can help it. So I’m scanning Facebook Marketplace, keeping an eye out at thrift stores, and mentally cataloging anything that could hold soil.

Half the fun of gardening on a budget is the creativity.

Can it hold dirt?
Does it drain?
Will it survive the summer heat?

Then it’s probably usable.

I love the idea of stepping out onto the deck and snipping herbs or grabbing a handful of flowers outside the kitchen door. It feels practical and beautiful at the same time.

February feels ambitious.

But it also feels hopeful.

And I’d much rather stand in the middle of “maybe I did too much” than sit in July wishing I had tried harder when the window was open.

We plant in faith.
We prepare in faith.
And we trust that the small work of today will bless our family in the months (and even years) ahead.

Here’s to cardboard chaos, milk cartons, and big garden dreams.

The kids and I had the opportunity to go visit my family in Pennsylvania this past week, and I’m so incredibly glad we did.

We’ve been trying to schedule a trip up there for ages, and it just never seemed to work out. There was always something — a launch, a deadline, a busy season, a reason to push it off. Finally, we picked a time that worked… except Jason was just too busy to take off work.

So the kids and I went anyway.

And I’m so, so glad we did.

With the older boys getting so much older, it was actually such a fun and easy trip. An 8–9 hour drive used to feel monumental, but for us seasoned travelers, it felt like no big deal. We packed snacks, queued up audiobooks, and just went.

We stayed at my aunt’s house and spent sweet time with cousins and my grandfather, who lives with them. We haven’t been back to Pennsylvania since my grandmother passed away two years ago this month, so being there felt tender in a way I didn’t fully expect.

There was so much snow, the kind we just don’t get here in North Carolina, and the kids probably spent a dozen hours outside sledding. It was pure joy. Rosy cheeks, soaked mittens, frozen fingers, and so much fun!

We made our obligatory stop at Hershey and did the free Chocolate World tour (a must if you’re ever in town), swam in their indoor pool while it snowed outside, and watched the Olympics together in the evenings. It was simple, cozy, memory-making kind of days.

And because we live on the East Coast now, this isn’t a once-every-few-years kind of trip anymore. We’re already talking about a summer visit!

It was exactly the kind of time away that makes you grateful… and then oddly excited to come home and settle back into your routines. It was exactly what I needed as I turn my attention to the Spring and big work and home projects.

The Blogging Goal I Didn’t Hit

At the beginning of this year, I set a goal to blog at least three times per week.

I love blogging. I love long-form writing. I love the space to think clearly and share deeply.

And then the past two weeks? I didn’t blog at all.

Not once.

Part of that is simply because of this trip. But the bigger reason is that we’ve been working on a massive system overhaul for our business. We’ve been moving every single one of our old products into a new system so that customers can access them easily and beautifully. It has been such a good project — the kind that blesses people long-term — but it has taken nearly all of my available work time in January and February.

Evenings. Weekends. Every spare hour. And I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so large of a task.

I’m thrilled about it being finished. (And keep an eye out — we’ll have a special sale this week connected to it.) But in the middle of it all, something deeper has been stirring in my heart.

What Is My Time For?

I have been praying a lot lately about my time.

My work hours are limited. I am first a wife. First a mother. My home and children and marriage are not side projects, they are my primary calling.

And yet our business matters too. It supports our family. It serves thousands of women. It is not frivolous.

But where does blogging fit?
Where does social media fit?
Where does marketing fit?
Where does being “consistent” fit?

I’ve increasingly felt like social media is destroying our society.

Yes, there is good to be argued for. Yes, it connects people. Yes, it can be used for truth and encouragement. But it is also fracturing our attention, shortening our focus, amplifying outrage, and shaping our thinking in ways we don’t even realize.

I don’t want to feel fractured.

I don’t want outside voices constantly shaping the tone of our home.

I don’t want my brain trained to live in 30-second bursts of noise.

And yet… I also know how hard it is when the good voices disappear. I know how lonely it can feel when encouragement dries up.

So I find myself in this tension.

If I’m honest, I would delete social media tomorrow and never look back — except that our family relies on it. It’s part of how we reach women. It’s part of how we sustain the business God has entrusted to us.

So I am prayerfully evaluating.

Not in a dramatic way.
Not in a “big announcement” way.
But in a quiet, steady, Lord-what-would-You-have-me-do kind of way.

What is essential?
What is noise?
What builds fruit that lasts?
What simply feeds the machine?

If You Feel Behind…

Maybe you set goals this year too.

Maybe you were going to be more consistent. More disciplined. More productive. More organized.

And maybe the past two weeks (or two months) didn’t look how you imagined.

I want you to know something: falling behind on a goal is not the same thing as failing in your calling.

Sometimes faithfulness looks like sledding in the snow with your children.
Sometimes it looks like sitting with your grandfather.
Sometimes it looks like moving systems quietly behind the scenes.
Sometimes it looks like not posting.
And also sometimes, it’s recognizing that God is calling you to be self-disciplined in an area you don’t want to be. (Hi, that’s me!)

God is not impressed by our output.
He is concerned with our obedience.

For me, right now, that means evaluating where my limited work time goes. It means asking whether my energy is being poured into what will matter five years from now, but also for the short term when there are bills to be paid and a business to be run.

I don’t have all the answers yet.

But I do know this: I want my days to glorify God.
I want my home to feel peaceful.
I want my children to remember warmth and presence.
And I want whatever work I do to flow from those priorities — not compete with them.

So this is just a little life update.
A little peek behind the curtain.
A gentle reset.

I’m excited to be home.
Excited to be back in routines.
Excited to keep building good things.
And prayerfully considering what that building should look like moving forward.

Thank you for being here.
Truly.

We’ll see what the Lord does next.

She shares why social media can quietly distort our expectations, how God calls us to stewardship instead of performance, and why the quiet, repetitive work of home is deeply meaningful to Him. From folding laundry and stretching a tight budget to caring for sick kids in the middle of the night, faithfulness often looks ordinary and unseen.

If you’re feeling weary, overwhelmed, or discouraged in your homemaking, this episode will gently refocus your heart on what truly matters.

Listen in and be reminded: the small, faithful work you do every day is holy work, and it matters to God.

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There are seasons when the world feels too loud. Too heavy. Too much. And often, that weight doesn’t stay “out there.” It follows us home. It shows up in tired bodies, overflowing sinks, loud kitchens, and hearts that feel stretched thin. In moments like that, it’s easy to wonder if the quiet, repetitive work we do every day really matters.

This season, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it truly means to be a homemaker. Not just in the way we often picture it, but in the deeper, truer sense. Homemaking isn’t limited to a job title or a particular life stage. If you are a woman, you are a homemaker. Whether you live in a dorm room, a small apartment, a house full of children, or a quiet home with just yourself, you are cultivating a space. You are shaping an atmosphere. And there are skills, habits, and a mindset worth cultivating in every season.

I remember our very first home after getting married at nineteen. It was a tiny one-bedroom apartment built sometime in the seventies, complete with mismatched wood paneling and a giant wall of floor-to-ceiling glass that made absolutely no sense for what was now considered entry-level housing. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t beautiful by design standards. But it was our first home. I was so excited to learn how to care for it, to figure out what diligence looked like in that small space, and to take ownership of the work in front of me.

That excitement has been tested many times over the years. Because the work of homemaking, especially in a full and busy household, is deeply cyclical. The dishes are never truly finished. The laundry basket never stays empty for long. Floors that were swept this morning somehow need it again by lunchtime. There are days when it feels like everything you do is immediately undone, and the question sneaks in: is this even worthwhile?

Colossians 3:23–24 has become an anchor for me in those moments. “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.” That word “whatever” leaves very little room for exceptions. Dishes count. Diapers count. School lessons, late-night talks, scrubbing toilets, and calming big emotions all count. The work may feel small or unseen, but it is not insignificant when it is done unto the Lord.

Right now, our days are full of very ordinary things. A lot of food. A lot of dishes. A lot of schooling. A lot of cleaning on repeat. And while I know I’ll one day miss the noise and closeness of having everyone under one roof, there is no denying the weight of the mundane in this season. Much of what I do will never be photographed, praised, or noticed outside these walls. And that’s okay. I’m not doing it for applause. I’m doing it to love the people God has placed in my care and to create a home where peace, rest, and joy are easier to find.

When I remember that I am ultimately serving Christ, something shifts. The work doesn’t magically disappear, but my posture toward it changes. I can approach it with purpose rather than resentment. With gratitude rather than defeat. Even when it’s hard, I can trust that God sees every small act of faithfulness.

There are also moments when homemaking becomes ministry in very visible ways. Recently, we had one of those days where disappointment seemed to pile on all at once. After a difficult season already filled with medical expenses and uncertainty, our truck broke down unexpectedly. It felt overwhelming in that moment, like one more thing added to an already heavy load. I didn’t pretend it wasn’t hard, and I didn’t hide my disappointment from the kids. Instead, we talked through it together. We made a plan to encourage their dad when he got home from having the truck towed. And they watched me work through discouragement with honesty and faith.

Those moments matter. Our children don’t need perfection, but they do need to see what it looks like to trust the Lord in real life. They need to see repentance when we fail, humility when we fall short, and faith that is lived out, not just talked about. The home becomes a place where grace is practiced, forgiveness is modeled, and the gospel is made visible in everyday decisions.

Homemaking really is so much more than chores. The physical work matters, and we shouldn’t dismiss it as unimportant. Those small, repetitive tasks make up our days and, over time, our lives. But beyond that, homemaking is a ministry. When we view our work through the lens of Christ’s death and resurrection, even the most ordinary moments take on eternal weight. Washing dishes becomes an act of service. Reading bedtime stories becomes a chance to shepherd hearts. Late-night conversations with teens become sacred ground.

Still, there will always be more to do. More dust. More laundry. More reminders that we cannot keep everything perfectly in order. And the gospel meets us there too. Our worth is not found in how much we accomplish. It is not measured by the state of our homes or the length of our to-do lists. Our value is found in Christ alone.

This truth frees us. It frees us from striving for perfection and allows us to serve with joy. Christ has already done the greatest work on our behalf. Because of that, we can work diligently and rest deeply at the same time. Cooking dinner becomes an act of worship as we thank God for provision. Cleaning the bathroom can become a quiet prayer. Rocking a child in the night can remind us of the tender care God shows His own children.

Some days will still feel long. Some seasons will feel exhausting. Joy may feel distant at times. But Scripture calls us to lift our eyes and remember who we are serving. We are not just keeping house. We are serving Christ. And the gospel is not a one-time truth tucked away in the past. It is daily hope for the present. When discouragement creeps in and the work feels unseen, we can trust that our labor in the Lord is never in vain.

So when homemaking feels heavy, pause and remember the greater story you are part of. You are building more than a clean home. You are shaping a gospel legacy. The grace you extend, the prayers you whisper, and the meals you prepare all point your family toward Christ. That is kingdom work.

Keep going. Ask the Lord for strength and wisdom. Ask Him to clarify your priorities and give you peace to let go of what doesn’t matter. Work diligently, rest faithfully, and trust that God is using every seed you plant. Your work is not wasted. It is seen. It is holy. And it matters.

Lord, help us to see our homes as places of ministry. Teach us to treasure the gospel in the middle of ordinary tasks and remind us that our work is not wasted when it is done for You. Give us joy in the small things and grace to serve our families with love. Amen.

I have finally — and I mean finally — been really diving into my reading goals and actually enjoying them again.

For the last few years, my reading has been a little lackluster. I’ve been reading far below my goals (which in and of itself is totally fine), but I was also lacking excitement and joy in my reading. I read a lot of fiction in ’24–’25, but most of it was throwaway fiction that, once I finished it, I never thought about again. It didn’t linger. It didn’t shape me. It didn’t spark anything.

When I made my reading goal for 2026 and started pulling out the book stack I wanted to read, I was honestly shocked to find books I got for last Christmas that I hadn’t read yet. This is unheard of for me, because I usually devour my new Christmas books immediately. In fact, I don’t think I finished a single book from last Christmas. That alone told me something needed to shift.

My goal for 2026 is to read 104 books for the year, which breaks down to two books a week. That’s actually a very doable goal for me, since I’ve spent well over a decade cultivating the habit of reading. If you’re just starting out, though, I highly recommend aiming for one book a week — or even one book every two weeks. Consistency matters far more than speed.

So for January 2026, that breaks down to ten books for the month, and I’m happy to report that I’m right on track! For me, the goal isn’t really about hitting the exact number as much as it is about inspiring me to read more, put down screens, and pick up actual books again.

I’m also developing a “40 before 40” list of classics I want to read by the time I turn forty (four years from now), and I’ll be sharing that list soon!

Here are a few things that have made a big difference for me this year:

First — my health is doing so much better. I’ve spent the past two years (but really closer to four) with lackluster health and energy. It all came to a head this last year when I had multiple rounds of kidney stones, multiple kidney infections, and the lowest energy I’ve ever experienced. I could barely function. I would start cleaning a room and literally have to sit down after twenty minutes to rest. Eventually, I discovered my body was literally starving for oxygen due to extremely low ferritin (iron) levels. It’s been a long nine-plus months of working on this, and for the first time in years I’m finally starting to feel like myself again. I still have a ways to go, but the increased energy has been such a gift. I can read again in the evenings and find little pockets of time throughout the day — and what a joy and blessing that has been.

Second — I’m genuinely excited about my current book stack. This is absolutely essential for me. If I’m excited about what I’m picking up next, it keeps me moving forward. It also allows me to juggle dryer, heavier books because I’ve got something fun waiting in the wings. The last couple of years I tried to force too much reading that simply wasn’t exciting me, and it made reading feel like work instead of delight. I need a good balance.

Here’s what I’ve read in January so far:

The Family Garden Plan. I’m planning a massive garden this year and needed a refresher. I first read this book four years ago, and it was really fun to revisit it now that I have more gardening experience under my belt. It was the perfect first book for the year and got me excited all over again for this season’s plans. Five stars.

Making Vegetables, Book 1. I’ve owned this book for over a decade and this was the first time I actually read it cover to cover. While it’s not groundbreaking, I did pick up some helpful tips. Four stars.

Gut Renovation. I’ve been studying gut health extensively for the past two years, so I was excited about this newer release. While there were a few interesting tidbits, overall it wasn’t especially helpful for where I’m at in my learning. Three stars.

Gardening for Everyone. Can you sense a theme in my reading so far? There’s nothing I love more than picking a new practical subject and reading everything I can get my hands on. When I was learning to quilt, I checked out every single quilting book from the library and promptly read all of them. When I take something on, I like to do it properly — or obsessively, if you will. This is an excellent book for the home gardener. Four stars.

Harry Potter Dramatized Versions, Books 1–3. Audible is currently releasing each Harry Potter book as a full-cast audio drama. It took me a little while to get into the first one, but by the third I was fully engrossed and now I cannot wait for book four coming out in February.

Wisdom on Her Tongue. I originally had high hopes for this book, but a friend told me it was very basic and very short, so I went in with very low expectations. I think because of that, I ended up liking it more than I expected. While it is short, there were some wonderful reminders throughout, and I’ll definitely read it again. Four stars.

Pride and Prejudice. Okay, don’t kill me — but I have to admit I’ve never read a single Jane Austen book and I’ve never seen any of the movies. I’ve just never been drawn to what I assumed was a silly period romance. I do adore studying history, though, and enough people have told me I’m ridiculous that I finally gave in. I’m reading this as part of my 40 before 40 list, and while it’s not my favorite book by any means, I’m enjoying it far more than I expected. Once I finish it, Jason and I are going to watch the movie (which one?!) since he read it last year. As a rule, we never watch the movie or show first if it’s based on a book.

The Abolition of Man by C.S. Lewis. I’ve somehow never read this very short Lewis book before, but my book club is reading it this month. I’m only at the very beginning so far, so no real notes yet — but I’m looking forward to digging into it.

So tell me — what did you read in January? I’ve got my February reading mostly planned out, but not much beyond that yet, so give me some recommendations! 

It’s been two long years since I’ve been able to grow a garden.

Life shifted in big ways during that season. We relocated to North Carolina, and for a while I didn’t even have a yard, just a moving target and a lot of transition. Gardening simply wasn’t possible. And while that season held good things, I missed the soil deeply.

Now, though, everything has changed.

We’re on three-quarters of an acre. It’s flat. It’s usable. And my backyard is absolutely begging for a garden. Every time I look out the window, I can practically see the rows already forming in my imagination.

I am all in on my garden plans this year. I’m excited… and also, if I’m honest, just a little nervous. Big dreams tend to do that to me.

My Big Hairy Audacious Gardening Goal

This dream didn’t start this year. It began about five years ago, when a quiet idea started taking root in my heart: what if I could grow a garden big enough to truly feed my family throughout the year?

Around that time, I was getting deeper into canning and food preservation. I started dreaming about walking into my backyard and harvesting dinner instead of running to the store. I began to see the value of homegrown potatoes and carrots that could last through the winter. And slowly, that dream took shape into what I now lovingly call my Big Hairy Audacious Goal:

I wanted to grow a garden large enough to supply roughly 90% of the fruits and vegetables my family eats in a year.

For context, our family is ten people strong… and eight of those are boys, teens,  and a mnn. This is not a small-appetite household.

It sounded inspiring. It sounded noble. It also sounded completely ridiculous.

Because here was the small inconvenience: at that point in my life, I had successfully gardened approximately twice.

Once was in our tiny one-bedroom apartment twelve years ago, when I managed a modest collection of container plants. The second time was in California, when I planted a garden from transplants and promptly watched every single plant die in a drought. I had also tried starting seeds once.

They all died too.

So naturally, with this glowing résumé of gardening success, I did what I always do and decided this massive goal was absolutely achievable and that I was claiming it as my own.

When Wisdom Finally Spoke Up

As I’ve grown and matured (and learned a few things the hard way), wisdom gently tapped me on the shoulder and whispered something important:

“Make sure this goal is actually doable. Don’t jump in with too much, all at once.”

So I reframed the dream.

Instead of wanting to accomplish this immediately, I gave myself a realistic runway:

In ten years, I want to grow a garden large enough to produce about 90% of the produce my family eats in a year.

Now that felt ambitious but attainable. Still bold. Still stretching. But grounded in patience and learning.

I set that goal four years ago. And I’m happy to report that while I’m nowhere near the final destination, I am absolutely closer than I was when I started. Six more years still feels like a tight timeline for something this big—but steady progress counts for a lot.

Learning One Skill at a Time

I knew from the beginning that if this dream was going to become reality, it would have to grow slowly and intentionally.

My first year, I went all in on learning how to start seeds. Buying plant starts would never be financially sustainable for the scale I eventually wanted, so this felt like the logical foundation.

That year, I didn’t worry about pests, harvesting, or even whether the garden would truly thrive. My only goal was to learn everything I possibly could about seed starting—and to do it inexpensively.

And guess what? Today, seed starting feels second nature to me.

What once felt overwhelming and complicated now feels routine. I’m gearing up to start multiple rounds of seeds over the next eight weeks, and it feels easy. I even managed a decent harvest that first year and learned a hundred small lessons along the way. Not bad for someone who once killed every seed she touched.

The following year, I added a few new layers: expanding the garden, dedicating an entire bed to peppers (only mildly successful—note to self: start peppers much earlier), learning how to grow potatoes and onions, and experimenting with a small fall garden.

And that’s when I discovered that I absolutely love fall gardening. It might actually be my favorite season to grow.

Then life happened. A cross-country move and baby number eight put gardening plans on pause for two full years. Not exactly part of the original timeline—but seasons have a way of doing that.

And now here I am again: in a new state, in a new home, with two containers full of seeds and a wide-open backyard waiting to become something beautiful.

What’s New for 2026

This year brings a big first for us: we’re creating an entirely new in-ground garden space measuring 20 by 25 feet.

Up until now, all of my gardening has been in raised beds. I’m excited to expand more affordably into a larger footprint and experiment with a no-till gardening approach. We’ll be laying down cardboard this week to begin building the soil, and I’m genuinely excited to watch this space come to life.

I also have a handful of small “firsts” on my list this year: growing sweet potatoes, experimenting with luffa sponges, doing much more vertical gardening, and starting elderberry cuttings from a friend’s bush—just to name a few.

Some of these will go well. Some probably won’t. And that’s part of the joy of learning.

Come Garden With Me

If you’ve ever dreamed about growing more of your own food—or expanding what you’re already doing—I’d love for you to join me this year.

I’ll be blogging throughout the season, sharing what I’m learning, what’s working, what’s flopping, and what’s surprising me along the way. I’m gardening in Zone 8a, but you certainly don’t need to be in the same zone to follow along and grow together.

Whether you’re looking for inspiration, encouragement to finally pick up a shovel, beginner-friendly guidance (I’m still far from an expert), or a place to share your own wisdom if you’re a seasoned gardener—this space is for you.

Welcome to my garden journal and my gardening journey for 2026. I’m so glad you’re here.

Do you ever have one of those days?

The kind where you wake up already irritated, before anything has even happened. You’re short on patience, easily overwhelmed, and it feels like joy is nowhere to be found. If I’m honest, when I was a young mom those days came more often than I care to admit, and I usually felt a little ashamed that my attitude could sour so quickly.

But motherhood has a way of pressing on every weak spot at once. The needs are constant. The to-do list never truly ends. The house doesn’t stay clean for long, sleep is often interrupted, and a quiet moment to yourself can feel like an impossible luxury. Over time, those small pressures compound, and suddenly we find ourselves moving through the day with clenched teeth instead of open hands.

It’s easy for the mundane rhythm of homemaking to drain the life out of us. And yet, those ordinary days don’t have to rob us of joy.

Joy is not something you either have or you don’t. It’s something that can be cultivated, practiced, and recovered, sometimes in the smallest, simplest ways. Over the years I’ve found a handful of steady rhythms that help reset my heart when I’m weary, irritable, or tempted to drift into complaint. They don’t magically remove hard circumstances, but they do help me return to a joyful, content posture in the work God has given me.

Joy often begins before the day begins

How we start our morning doesn’t determine everything, but it shapes more than we realize. When I wake up, I have a choice to make: I can let the mood I’m in dictate the atmosphere of the day, or I can intentionally anchor my heart before the demands start piling up.

That choice isn’t always easy, especially after a rough night, an early wake-up, or the anticipation of a hard day. But using the early hours well has repeatedly transformed my heart.

Fill the house with worship

One of the simplest habits that serves me well is turning on worship music early in the morning. It’s almost automatic now: I step into the kitchen, keep the volume low so I don’t wake everyone (if I’m lucky enough to be the first one up), and let truth fill the background.

I love a quiet house. But I’ve also learned that silence doesn’t always produce peace. Sometimes silence gives my thoughts too much room to spiral. Gentle worship does something different: it recenters me. It softens the edge of a tired mood. It reminds me, before I even touch the dishes or check a schedule, that God is already present.

And truly, try humming a praise song while holding onto a grudge. It’s surprisingly difficult.

Open the Bible (even if it’s not “perfect”)

This may sound obvious, but it’s obvious because it’s foundational: there is nothing more steadying than opening God’s Word before the day opens you.

If you’re in the thick of little-kid years, your Bible time may not look like deep study with color-coded notes and uninterrupted quiet. Mine often doesn’t. Some mornings I’m simply following a basic reading plan and reading a short devotional. Some mornings I get a few quiet minutes. Other mornings my Bible is open on my lap while little ones climb around my feet.

But lately, as my littlest one is 16 months old, I’ve been cultivating the quiet, steady rhythm of getting up before my kids, coffee in hand, and quietly reading my Bible and praying. This practice never returns void, even if I do get tired in the afternoon!

But the Lord uses imperfect, interrupted time.

If all you can manage today is a few verses, that is still enough to reset your mind and help you walk into the day with more clarity and hope than you had five minutes earlier.

Practice gratitude until your heart catches up

Gratitude isn’t a trendy idea, it’s a spiritual discipline. It’s one of the simplest ways to pull your focus off your frustration and place it back where it belongs: on the goodness of God.

In my morning prayer journal, I write down two specific things I’m thankful for every day. Two. Not ten. Not a beautifully worded paragraph. Just two gifts from the Lord, especially on mornings when I don’t feel like doing it.

And here’s what I’ve found: the moments it’s hardest to name blessings are usually the moments I need to do it most.

I’m always surprised how quickly my mood begins to shift once I start. Two blessings often turn into five. And suddenly my heart feels lighter—not because the work disappeared, but because my perspective did.

Finding joy in the mundane work of homekeeping

Let’s be honest: cleaning is not thrilling. It just isn’t, especially in an active home where messes multiply faster than you can catch up.

But “not fun” doesn’t mean “not meaningful.” Part of being a keeper of the home is doing ordinary work faithfully. The goal isn’t to pretend those tasks are exciting; it’s to learn how to do them with a better spirit and a bigger purpose.

Here are a few practices that have helped me keep a joyful heart while doing repetitive work.

Pray over your home while you care for it

When was the last time you prayed over your home, not just in general, but specifically?

One of the most powerful shifts I’ve made is praying over the rooms of our house while I clean them. I’ll pray for what happens there and for the people who live under our roof. This matters because I’ve noticed something about myself: when my hands are busy, my thoughts can get dark if I’m not intentional. Cleaning can become the time I replay frustrations, stew over annoyances, or spiral into negativity.

Prayer redirects that space.

If you’re in the bathroom and potty training is testing your patience, pray for that child and for wisdom. If you’re in the kitchen, pray over meals and conversations. If you’re in the living room, pray that your home would be a place of peace and kindness.

Praying this way doesn’t just change my heart. It often changes the atmosphere of the home itself.

Listen to something that strengthens you

Just like worship music helps in the morning, encouragement helps in the middle of the day. I love listening to podcasts or sermons while I cook dinner or do chores, especially in the late afternoon when my energy is low and I’m tempted to coast in irritation.

There’s something restoring about letting your mind take in truth and encouragement while your body does ordinary work. It “fills your cup” in a practical way. It reminds you that the work you’re doing matters, and that you’re not alone in it.

Make a simple plan for the day

I love a good to-do list. It helps me feel grounded and purposeful. But I’ve also learned that the quickest way to discourage myself is to write a list that assumes I’m living in a silent, uninterrupted world.

In my busiest seasons, I can realistically complete about five meaningful tasks in a day, sometimes less. So I keep the plan simple: a short list and a flexible timeline. I often write it the night before, not because I’m trying to be rigid, but because there is freedom in waking up with direction.

When I don’t make a plan, I’m much more likely to drift into chaos. I’ll find myself slumped on the couch mid-morning while the kids are unraveling, and then I feel defeated before the day is even half over. But when I have a gentle plan, everything seems to run a little smoother, even when interruptions come.

Joy also requires room for delight

Sometimes we lose joy at home not because there’s too much work, but because there’s too little fun.

When was the last time you got down on the floor with your kids and played? When was the last time you laughed, really laughed, in the middle of an ordinary day?

There will always be more work to do. But if we never stop to enjoy the people we are caring for, we will slowly begin to resent the work itself. A home is not meant to be managed like a machine; it’s meant to be lived in with love.

This is where your plan can either serve you or enslave you. A plan is a blessing, but it shouldn’t become the mountain you’re willing to die on. Racing through your to-do list while ignoring your family is not the measure of success.

Sometimes the most faithful choice is setting the list down to pull out Play-Doh, read a book, sit close, listen, and laugh. Those moments are not “wasted time.” They are part of building a joyful home.

And don’t forget your husband in this, either. Homemaking isn’t only about managing tasks, it’s about nurturing relationships. Make room for fun with him too, whether that’s an at-home date night, a walk together, or time out of the house. Joy grows where connection is protected.

Ordinary days are where joy is formed

Most homemaking is not made up of highlight moments. It’s made up of ordinary ones: meals, messes, interruptions, and the steady, faithful work of loving people.

And by God’s grace, those ordinary days can become the very place where joy takes root.

Not because every day feels easy, but because joy isn’t dependent on ease. It’s cultivated by truth, gratitude, prayer, worship, wise planning, and intentional delight. One small practice at a time, God can reshape our attitude and restore our contentment, right in the middle of the work.

If today is one of “those days,” you’re not alone. Start small. Choose one way to re-center your heart. And ask the Lord to meet you in the ordinary.

He does.