Monthly Archives: August 2017

Simple Living

For the past 18 days we have been living in temporary housing. People ask how it’s going and my reply is instant, enthusiastic and authentic.

I love it.

It’s small. It’s uncluttered. It’s cozy. It’s simple.

It’s perfect.

I’ve been talking about decluttering for quite some time. I did 52 weeks of donations. I decluttered for our move. I’ve read about decluttering. I’ve written posts on decluttering.

The idea of living a simple, uncluttered life is alluring. It’s something I’ve been working to achieve.

But, even with all of my working, we still managed to fill an ENTIRE semi (and another small truck) with stuff.

Yep. The biggest truck possible. We filled it. And still needed another truck. (Time to drop the head in shame. I obviously still have lots work to do.)

While all of that stuff is being stored for us, we are living in our temporary space. And I am learning.

In these past 18 days I have learned more about the value of living an uncluttered, simple life than I ever have before.

I am learning because I am living it. And in living it, I am experiencing the value.

We brought few items with us into our fully furnished apartment. The kids each brought a handful of toys. We each brought a small bin of clothes. We brought a few games and a deck of cards. We brought a couple extra kitchen items. We brought gifts that were given to us at our going away party that are being used as decorations. It isn’t much. It’s the basics.

The furnished apartment came with one baking sheet, one spatula, one measuring cup and so on and so forth. Not excess, but enough.

With the stuff gone and our family living in a smaller space, we are engaging with each other more. We are playing games together. The kids are playing more with a couple of toys than they did with a house full of toys.

It’s ironic.

Our time isn’t being sucked up by the management of things. I’m not picking up things all day. I’m not cleaning things all day.

As a family, we cleaned the house together and it took roughly 20 minutes. Total.

It’s liberating.

But out there, somewhere, is our truck. Our semi truck filled to the brim with stuff. A lot of stuff that we don’t need. Some we do, but a lot we don’t.

Thankfully, we have been given this gift. This gift of experiencing simple living  (I realize this is a very First World version of simplicity.)  We have now experienced what it feels like to live in a smaller space with fewer things and we all feel the same.

We love it. Even the kids. They love it too. They are all sharing rooms – and they still love it.

I think there is something inside of most people that longs for decluttered space. Longs for simplicity.

But in our world of excess and consumerism – that is hard to achieve. What our hearts long for is in some ways countercultural. Until recently. It seems that more and more people are choosing to live smaller. Live simpler. Look at the tiny house craze. It all stems from a desire to live more freely. A desire to not be bound to as much stuff and experience more life.

So here’s what I am going to do. I am going to take the lesson learned in this temporary space and put it into practice.

In one week and one day, the truck will arrive at our new house.

Nothing (and I mean nothing) will come into our home unless we love it and have a need for it. If it’s just okay, or maybe we might use it some day – NO. No more rainy day items.

I want to unpack slowly. I want to unpack intentionally.

I want to look at this as redistribution. How can we redistribute the things we don’t need any longer? Who could really use them? I don’t want to just make a trip to Goodwill because it’s convenient. (Not that there’s anything wrong with Goodwill.) I want to redistribute intentionally.

This may be our temporary home, but I hope the result of our time here is not temporary. I hope it is long-lasting. I hope as the boxes are brought into our new home that I remember how I feel right now, in this space, typing these words.

Decluttered living. Intentional Living. Simple living. It starts here. It starts now.

Who’s with me?

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*If the idea of living a simple, decluttered life is alluring to you too, send me a message and let me know. I would love to hear from you.

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A Letter to My Children as They Head to School

To my sweet children,

You are so brave.

I know this move hasn’t been easy. I know at times you find yourself missing your friends, neighbors, classmates and school.

I would imagine life feels a little upside down right now.

It’s hard walking into a school for the first time down unfamiliar halls filled with unfamiliar faces.

It’s hard walking into the lunch room amidst the conversations and laughter. It’s hard to decide where to sit and who to sit next to – and when you finally do pick a place to sit, it can be hard to look someone in the eye and say, “hello.”

It’s hard to be in a new place you haven’t been before surrounded by people you don’t know.

It’s hard to be at recess and not know what to do, or who to play with.

It’s hard to leave the comfort of all that is familiar and enter into a sea of unknowns.

Yes, it’s hard. But do you know what?

You are brave. You are so brave. Here is how I know.

To my oldest:

I know it was hard on the first day when you stood alone at recess, but you didn’t let that stop you. The next day, you found someone to talk to. Each day, you will find more and more people. You will figure this out. You will make your way here. Just give yourself grace. Give yourself time.

Some days will be harder than others and that’s okay. Give yourself space to grieve when you need to. It’s okay to miss our old home. Also, give yourself permission to find joy here. That isn’t betraying our old home, or the friends we left. You haven’t lost your old friends, you are just finding more people to love.

I can see the look in your eyes when I drop you off in the morning. I know it is hard, but you’ve got this. Just be yourself, sweet girl. You are more than enough. Keep your positive attitude and before you know it, as impossible as it may seem, all that seems so foreign now will someday start to feel like home. You are so brave, 

To my second:

I know you were scared yesterday at the end of the day when you weren’t sure how to get to the pick-up line. When you walked out of the school with tears streaming down your face I wanted to scoop you up in my arms and run you back to the car, but I knew you wouldn’t like that very much. I knew you were trying to conceal your tears and all that attention would just make things worse. Even though I wanted to run to you, I resisted the urge and walked calmly instead.

That’s one of the hard parts about being a momma as your kids are growing. It’s hard to know when to give space and when to jump in, but I knew in that moment you wanted some space and I tried to give it to you as best as I could.  I’m glad that you felt safe enough to really let those tears come in buckets when we were in the safety of the car, together.

There may be times in the weeks to come when you feel lost or unsure of what you are doing or where you are going. Know that the teachers and other staff in your school are there to help you. They are for you and they want to see you succeed. Don’t be afraid to ask for help along the way. You will figure this out.

You have such a big heart and have already made a long list of friends in just a few short days. In fact, I will never forget when I picked you up from your new school on your first day – how you had to run back to give a new friend a hug. You are a little joy spreader. You’ve got this. Just keep being you. You are so brave.

To my third:

I know you miss home and your friends. I know lunch and recess have been a scary time for you. I see you trying hard to keep those tears in. Remember, it’s okay to cry. Sometimes the best thing you can do is to let those tears stream down your face and jump into the arms of someone who loves you and get lost in their cuddles and snuggles while you cry your heart out. Sometimes, the bravest thing to do is to cry. To be vulnerable. To let someone see your heart is hurting.

Before long, you will be excited to go to school. Just like you were before. It may take a little while to get there, but I believe you will. Look at what you’ve already accomplished!  In just three days at this school, you’ve already figured out how to hang upside down on the monkey bars with NO HANDS!  If you can do that in just three days, I am pretty sure you can do just about anything. You are so brave.

To my baby:

Sweet little boy. Today, when you climbed into the car with your Star Wars backpack and Super Mario lunch box you were so excited. You said you were a little nervous, but you hopped in the car with a determination and enthusiasm that made me excited for you. I hope you keep that enthusiasm and that excitement throughout life. Keep looking for the joy in the adventure. Keep facing new things head on just like you did today. You are so brave.


My sweet children, thank you for showing me what it looks like to be brave. I have been learning from you since the day you were placed in my arms. You teach me so many things about life that I never knew. I will be learning from you all of my days. I am sure of it.

It may be hard to be the new kid in a new school, but you can do this. You are doing it. Do you want to know something? This is hard for me too. I miss my friends and our old house. I miss our neighbors and the familiar streets. Do you want to know something else, even with all of that missing in my heart – there is an excitement too. It’s okay to feel both.

Just remember, regardless of what comes your way in life, always be who God made you to be. Never compromise who you are, or what you believe or know to be true in your heart, just to fit in. Be wonderful, fabulous, unique YOU.

Watching you face your fears has helped me to face mine.

We’ve got this. We can do it. One day at a time.

Together, we can be brave.

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Uplifted

Late Sunday evening, as I was driving in the dark, through the pouring rain, around the twists and bends with tears streaming down my face I thought, “Please. Just let me get there.”

The couple of weeks prior to our departure were exhausting, emotional and by far some of the best weeks of my life.

We were constantly surrounded and uplifted by friends and loved ones.

Friends who stopped by our home in the last days just to hug and talk and laugh and cry.

Friends who came to pray.


Friends who had us over for dinners and going away parties and family celebrations.

And in our final days when we needed places to stay, friends who opened their homes to our noise and chaos and plethora of bags and pillows and all that comes with opening your home to a family of six for the night.

Friends. Friends. And more friends.

Love. Love. And more love.

So much that my heart felt on the constant verge of bursting and my eyes felt on the constant verge of welling up and over into a pool of grateful tears.

We didn’t deserve all of this, but it was being poured on us in buckets. It was a picture of grace.

And then when I thought it possibly couldn’t get any better, that we couldn’t possibly feel any more love than we already had felt in the previous weeks – we walked into the home of our dear friends for our going away celebration.

We spent the next hours in the company of loved ones – laughing, crying and saying, “Hope to see you soon” – which sounds so much better than goodbye.

These days leading up to our departure and our final celebration served as a reminder for me. A reminder of what matters.

Relationships.

Relationships matter.


God is relational and He created us in His image. He created us with a desire to be loved and a desire to love. Loved for who we are in all of our imperfection. Pure, unconditional love – like the love God shows us. Gracious love.

People went out of their way time and time again to show us this kind of love. They took a moment from their own busy lives and busy schedules to pour into us.

Looking back on the last weeks spent in Indy, I needed this and my family needed this. More than we knew.

This time of love from friends and family filled my tank and also reminded me of how I want to live my life.

It reminded me of the importance of a text. A phone call. A card. A hug. A shared prayer.

It reminded me of the kind of friend I want to be and one that I oftentimes am not.

It reminded me of the importance of leaving margin, leaving space, leaving room for God to show me how He may want me to spend my day.

It reminded me of what matters.

I often get wrapped up in my own little bubble. My own list of to-dos has the potential to rule every minute of my well planned out, perfectly orchestrated day.

There is nothing wrong with calendars, to-do lists and schedules. In fact, those are wonderfully effective tools for living an organized life.

The problem for me is when the calendar is so full that I can’t see past my plan for the day. I start my day in my bubble and forget to stop and think about what may be going on in the lives of the people God has placed around me.

This kindness we experienced had a profound impact on me and has continued in our first days here.

Prior to our move, a sweet friend from Indy introduced me to a mutual friend of hers from college who lives in the small Tennessee town we now call home. She took the time  to introduce us via email and her friend was kind enough to invite me and the kids over the day before school started for some ice cream.

Her three children are all close in age to our three oldest. She said she was just returning from a long vacation, but she would love to have us.

Again, this made me stop and think.

She made space for us. School was about to start and I had to imagine things were hectic for her. We were complete strangers and she made space for us. She invited us into her home. She fed my children ice cream and she gave me a hug.

A complete stranger.

I want to live my life like this.

I know it won’t be long before our calendars become full again, but I hope to not forget the impact that the love of others has made in my life and in the lives of my family members. I hope to remember the importance of leaving space. I hope to remember the importance of keeping my eyes open to what is happening in the lives of those around me. Neighbors. Friends. Family. Strangers.

Late Sunday evening, as I was driving in the dark, through the pouring rain, around the twists and bends with tears streaming down my face I thought, “Please. Just let me get there.”

I was exhausted. I had cried many tears in the previous weeks, days, hours and minutes.

As I followed my family to Tennessee in the rental van with the Illinois license plate that said AM I found myself looking continually at the words, “I AM.”

It was a beautiful reminder of God with us. God carrying us. God leading us.

I was exhausted, but I was ready. It was time. Time to trust. Time to let go. Time to open my eyes to the bigger picture of what God may be doing in my life. In my husband’s life. In my children’s lives. Change isn’t easy, but I have to believe it will serve a bigger purpose.

I pray that as I begin this journey here I can love a little better. I pray I can trust a little more. I pray I can be the kind of friend that others have been to me. I pray I can live with space in my life. I pray the lessons I have learned in these weeks will be embedded deep in my heart. I pray they won’t be fleeting. I pray God will use me in this new space I occupy.

Please God. Use me.

 

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