Skip to main content

Delight

No matter how much you clean or remodel or move or rebuild, 
hospitality will always be more a matter of the heart than the architecture. 
Your guests will only feel as comfortable in your house as you feel in your own skin. There's no shame in paper plates if they're heaped high with 
delight in each others' company. 
~Ann Voskamp


Today this meant kids in swimsuits and muddy-feet. It meant water guns and a friend changing my Little Lady no less than 3 times because she's a fish. It meant mac&cheese and oranges and chatting about wonderful God-inspired writers and how exciting it is to see that in the nutrition section of bookstores. It meant talking about the nitty-gritty bits of life and owning up to some of our hurts and heartaches and struggles. It meant smiles and laughter and honesty. It meant not worrying that there were raisins all over the floor or that Little Lady had a bit of a messy room or that weeds hadn't been plucked yet. And it meant delight. True delight.

Comments

Unknown said…
It was a great day for all! We had so much fun and I love being able to connect with you even with interruptions from all the sweet kiddos! We shall do it again very soon ~ you are so sweet my friend!!

Popular posts from this blog

To Dive in With Them

Sometime last week I stumbled across this article: Moms, Put on That Swimsuit  by Jessica N. Turner. Please read it. I honestly want to just copy and paste the entirety of the thing right here, but instead I'll trust that you'll read it and just put out here the two lines that hit me hard... "Your swimsuit does not define you."   "I want them to remember that their mom was there, with them."   As much as I hate, hate, hate to say it, I am That Mom. The Mom who doesn't want to put on the dreaded swimsuit simply because my own insecurities start screaming wild and loud the minute I go to open the drawer where the dreaded swimsuit lives.   I am That Mom. The Mom who fears what thoughts might be harbored in a strangers head about my weight or size.   I am That Mom. The one who, way more often than not, lets Daddy be the one who swims with the kids. I'll cheer them on, sure! And stare at them a million times when they yell "Watch

The Rest is Grace

Last week was hard. Bitter, butt-kicking hard. One of those weeks in which you feel like all the things you never want to hear are spoken, all of the feelings that inconvenience and convict you creep up, and all of the aches your body fights as a Momma come careening down on you. That kind of hard. I had a week of little sleep. For me, that equates to a measly 3 or 4 hours a night. Some of it I can blame on the kiddos. One is teething, the other struggling with nightmares. But overall, it was just plain ol' me. I have a mind that struggles to shutdown. It's wild and meanders when it should be resting. That kind of exhaustion doesn't make for a good or happy Mommy. And we all know Mommy sets the tone for the house. I had been feeling some conviction in my heart about parenting. Partially because I overanalyze and probably read too many parenting books that aren't always sound and cause more guilt than improvement. But overwhelmingly, I heard God speaking some truth t