So far, 2023 has been one of the hardest seasons of my parenting career. (Parenting is a career, ya’ll. Don’t ever tell yourself it’s not.) Not because my children are difficult, but because we’ve been navigating some very difficult situations. The stories are not mine alone to share—at least not yet. I do think there’s an essay percolating in my mind, but it needs to steep a little longer before I’m ready to partake. Without saying too much, I can say this:
We’ve been living a real life story of Holy Week, resting in the promise of Easter to come.
As I write this, I’m hiking the dunes at my favorite beach. I can’t help but notice the paths we used to walk that are no longer paths. A path where water has pooled and a cranberry bog has begun to grow. What once was my favorite way to the beach has now become a beautiful garden for birds. Trees have been uprooted by hurricanes over the last several years. And yet. Even though the roots show, bright green leaves and delicate white flowers flourish on the top branches.
This month, I reminded my children of our move from Atlanta to Massachusetts. They were so little, they don’t remember how painful it was for David and I. We left everything we knew behind. Our church; our neighborhood; everything that we loved and everyone who loved us. We moved to a place where we knew no one. It was like moving to a foreign land. And while there are still days when we reminisce about what life was like—the things we miss, the things we wish we could have brought, the things we liked better there—we are confident now, seven years later, the life we are living is better than the life we had before. That doesn’t mean we don’t miss it. It doesn’t mean it’s not painful to think back on what we lost. Like the truth of Good Friday, loss will always hurt.
As a family, we’ve made some difficult decisions in the last several months. We’re learning together—adults and kids alike—to say no to lifestyles that demand too much. How to say no to activities that aren’t healthy for our whole well-being. How to say no to lifestyles that don’t allow for any empty space.
Change is hard. Change is painful. Change is risky. And scary. But the truth of Easter reminds us different isn’t bad. Different can be beautiful, if only we allow. If we don’t push ourselves to make changes when we know in our gut that it’s the next best right thing, then life can never be anything different than what it is.
I hope they are lessons that will follow our kids through the rest of their life.
This will be the last letter you receive from me for several months. This summer, I’m taking a publishing sabbatical. If you’re a paid subscriber, your subscription will be put on pause until I restart Insider News and Five Quick Things; sometime in the fall. I know this is risky. If you’re an annual subscriber, your year will be put on hold until paid writings start back up. If you’re a monthly subscriber, you won’t be charged. You may choose to cancel and not wait for me. And friends, if that’s what you choose, that’s okay too.
For the next three months—or maybe four—I’m going to create for the sake of creating. I’m going to write the mess that’s in my head and trust that when the time comes, I’ll be able to put the pieces together into a beautiful storyline.
But mostly, I’m going to lean into an empty calendar. My family needs some time to relax. To refresh relationships. To find joy in creating an open space. We’re learning to take risks. To say no to busyness. To clear our calendars; to erase some obligations; to find time to play. We’ve been making lists of all the things we want to do with a big blank open space.
With Memorial Day up ahead, it’s time for Summer Reading! This year I put together a Summer Reading List for kids and adults of all ages. You can download a printable copy here.
Late Spring and early Summer are affectionately known as “lettuce season” in our house. We’re bringing home multiple heads of greens from the farm this time of year, so we’re eating as many salads as I can creatively come up with. Here are a few of my faves:
Lettuce Wraps (technically not a salad, but a brilliant way to get my kids to eat lettuce!)
Greek Salad (I like to add grilled chicken)
My kids and I keep adding to this playlist, so go ahead and save it. You can return to it over and over this summer for new tunes! Best listened to on shuffle, if you ask me.
May you be graced with courage to say yes to saying no;
May you feel freedom to rest in the unknown;
May you find peace to create something new;
and may you have a wonderful summer filled with sunshine, laughs, and beautiful memories.
Until next time,
Good for you, and good for your family. I hope your time of rest is one full of quiet joys and affirmation. I too,am using this season of warmth to rest, taking a break from my much loved teaching to spend time just being.