There are days when I wake up with the wonder of a child, expecting beautiful things of the day. I feel the way my sleepy four-year-old feels when he comes into my dark room and says hopefully, “Is it morning yet?” I am looking forward to seeing the light, to experiencing the morning, to finding whatever treasures the day may hold for me. And there are days when I wake up so behind with housework and mindwork, knowing that every moment will be taken up by a to-do-list that will never be finished if I live a hundred years, and all of it is work-work when what I really need is space for heartwork and soulwork. I want it over before it’s begun. Sometimes I greet the day with open arms. Sometimes I want to quietly ignore its arrival.
The last few weeks have been a roller coaster for me. I have had experiences that a younger version of myself could have only hoped and prayed for, seeing the hand of God move, almost tangibly, writing a new chapter of my life. I have experienced deep joy and satisfaction, the answers to prayers long-prayed, and have seen, in the details of these days, the tender, lovingkindness of God. And yet, I find, again, that life is a constant journey. There is never really any arriving. Every morning is practice for the next morning, and each new day will arrive with questions I cannot answer, needs I cannot meet, hungers I cannot satisfy, hopes I can’t fulfill, grief I thought was gone, heartache in places I didn’t know I had feeling. So I stand on the promises of God. I search them out in the colors of sunrise, I stir them into my early morning coffee, I write them in journals. I speak them to my children. I inscribe them on my heart. I see them come to pass, sometimes slowly, over time, sometimes only by faith. But I wake every morning to the ceaseless and steadfast love of the Lord. And when I remind myself of this truth, that his mercies are new every morning, I wake up like a little child.
One of the most important practices of my life is making lists of things that I love. It helps to remind me, especially when I wake up overwhelmed with all the things out of my control, that I really do live a wonderful life. It is not all just work that won’t ever stop. Each day is millions of moments that have meaning. If I will open my eyes, like a child, and look for them, I will find that these moments are full of things I love.
I make these lists in my journals, but I also enjoy sharing here each month. I hope you will find some of the things I love to be things you could love, too. And I highly encourage you, if you are discouraged or overwhelmed, to make your own list. Be specific. The more specific you are, the more it will be like a poetry of gratitude.
Here are some of the the sharable things I’m loving right now:
The Hobbit—My oldest son and I make a 25-minute drive each Friday for a weekly appointment, and we have nearly finished the audiobook of The Hobbit. (We have been loving this version on spotify.) Somehow I missed this book in my childhood, and even though I knew the story from the movies, I only read The Lord of the Rings Trilogy for the first time last year. I love the writing and the story, and I especially identify with the humble hobbit, who unknowingly stepped into an adventure story that was far more dangerous and costly than he ever could have known when he took up the challenge. His constant yearning for his warm house, his own little kitchen full of good food, and the whistling tea kettle on the way of dark and ominous roads feels familiar to me. Though my story is much quieter, and there are no real dragons, I feel in some small way, that my own story is an echo of this tale.
Meals I Didn’t Make—I know I’ve mentioned this before, but nothing means more to me than a delicious meal for my family, made by someone other than me. I’d say that 1/3 of my waking hours revolve around food. Thinking about the food, buying the food, prepping the food, making the food, getting people to eat the food, storing the food, reusing the food, not wasting the food, cleaning up the food, washing dishes and pots and pans so we can cook and eat the food, etc. I love good food, but I get weary of being the one who always makes it for my family of ten. God has blessed me in this season with some dear friends who reach out to me from time to time and ask if they can bring me a meal. The answer to that question is always yes and a sigh of relief. It is like a mini-holiday. And food tastes so much better when someone else makes it.
Plum Butter—The next best thing to someone else making food for you is when food basically makes itself. Did you know you can take a box of plums, wash them, cut them in half and take out the pits, throw them in the crockpot overnight, and in the morning all you have to do is mash them up and add a little bit of sugar for the most amazing plum butter you’ve ever tasted??? My future self is always proud of my past self when breakfast comes around and I threw a handful of ingredients in the bread machine the night before, but waking to fresh bread and plum butter is almost too good to be true.
Bedtime Stories—My two-year-old doesn’t like to go to sleep. But he likes stories, and most of the time he will lay quietly in his bed until he gets sleepy, listening to them. I’ve found a storyteller that I love on spotify. Her name is Nicki White, and she reads lots of classic stories like The Three Bears and The Three Little Pigs. My favorites are her versions of the Beatrix Potter stories. She has a wonderful British accent, and I don’t mind Haven listening to these wonderful books on repeat if necessary. Look her up!
1000 Hours Outside—I’ve mentioned this podcast before, but I recently listened to this episode that talks about how screens and smartphones have drastically changed childhood. It brings up a lot of important questions about how to help our children connect with others in meaningful ways and how to give them real-life experiences with the social world. This entire podcast is amazing and is one of my biggest inspirations right now as a parent who wants to give my children a good, solid childhood, a real, living education, and prepare them for adulthood.
Music—I love all the music that I get to hear in this house. The piano is almost always being played by someone. We just put a drum set in my son’s room this week, and I love hearing him up there perfecting his roll. Several of my children write songs, and I am one of the only people in the whole world who get to hear them at this moment. My husband’s heart has been overflowing with music for several months now. He wrote three new songs last month and is working in the other room on recording one of them. There is something so sacred and holy about music that is alive, coming right out of the body, heard in the actual moment of its creation. I’m blessed to have so much of that in my life in this season.
I love writing these letters. It gives me so much joy to share the things I love with you. Thank you for being here! I wish you a November full of beautiful things, and that you will have eyes to see them, just like a child.
Mackenzie
From the Family Band:
Here is Randy’s newest video, with Rosie on the violin, Heidi on the Irish whistle, and Rosie and I singing backup vocals. He started writing this in the middle of a difficult and discouraging season of his life. One night, he woke up to the words, “Rejoice. It’s a choice.” And this song was born.
From the Podcast:
(Originally posted December 2020)
Today we are talking about one of my favorite subjects–the transformative practice of keeping a journal. Journaling is the intersection of my creative and spiritual life, it is where all my good ideas start, it is where I come to make peace with my life. It is on the pages of my journal that I do my best praying and surrender my life over and over again to God’s plan and the vision He reveals to me one day at a time. Pull up a chair, grab a cup of tea, and let’s talk about how we can use our journals to enter into the deeper beauty of our everyday lives.
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I’m putting up these little read-alouds every few days as a way of shooting these words out into the world, hoping they will find some good soil to be planted in and grow.
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Have a wonderful week. I’ll look forward to talking with you again soon.