Are you stressed about how to educate your kids? Let me help.

It’s the first week of August and Target has me all heart-eye emoji over back-to-school supplies. Is it just me or do school supplies get cuter every year?

Getting everything in order for a new school year ushers in its own sort of angst for me as a parent. But that’s the easy stuff compared to the deeper fears, dilemmas, and second-guessing about getting school “right” for our kids. It’s the sort of dilemma that most of our parents didn’t struggle with and that probably wasn’t even on our grandparents’ radar.

Why?

Because in this land of opportunity, we have more educational options than ever before. And while the vast majority of families still send their kids to the local public school, we all know families who are choosing to do things differently, whether it’s homeschool, charter school, private school, or online school.

Our motivations for doing it “differently” are as varied as our families:

Your kids having the best education possible so that they have access to the best opportunities possible.
Choosing a more personal path for a child who has learning disabilities or who may be exceptionally gifted.
A passion to be involved in the public schools for the sake of a better community.
The best sports program or a charter school geared toward the creative arts.
Providing a faith-based foundation for learning.
Protection from unsavory peer influences.

And that’s just the beginning.

I’ve been thinking and writing about this topic of finding freedom in our educational decisions for several years now because I’ve been living through the ups and downs of this dilemma since I had my first child 15+ years ago.

Our overwhelm as parents has only intensified because our options are more abundant than ever.

If you’re stressed and uncertain about how to educate your kids, I wish we could sit down on my screen porch and visit. I’d listen to your worry and tell you it’s going to be okay. But my screen porch isn’t big enough for all of you so I’m offering something else.

“Is it like the Sorting Hat from Hogwarts?” you may ask.

I wish.

“You’re to be homeschooled! You’re perfect for your local public school! You were destined for the early college charter school!”

Alas, we’re not as lucky as Harry, Ron, and Hermione and I don’t have any magic.

But I have created a free resource that’s all yours — to download, to print, to share with your spouse.

It’s called “School Made Simple: FIVE Essential Questions to Help Your Family Walk the Path of Educational Freedom”

Why the 5 questions? Why not just give you answers and expertise and best practices.

Because we’re not robots.

I’ve walked the hard road of my own story and I’d like to be a gentle guide who helps you walk yours with freedom and grace.

“How do I receive this free resource?”

I’m glad you asked.

All you have to do is subscribe in the box at the bottom of this post and you’ll receive a link to download “School Made Simple.”

And if you’re already a subscriber, don’t worry. You’ll automatically receive a separate e-mail {later today} with your link to the download. It’s my way of saying thank you for being part of this space.

As a subscriber, you’ll receive posts no more than twice a week that are all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life — whether it’s the ongoing dilemma over school, real talk about faith, the struggle of pursuing your hoped-for work in the midst of your right-now life, encouragement for realistic parenting, and even the challenges of prettying up a room {or your tired outfits} on a minimal budget. Plus you’ll be the first to know about new freebies, resources, and other insider scoop!

Don’t worry, this isn’t a lifetime commitment. Feel free to unsubscribe anytime you like. You can always hop back in if it works for you down the road.

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I’d love to have your feedback over this issue of school.

What are your personal fears, dilemmas, questions?
What has made the decision difficult {or easy} for you?

Knowing your struggles and concerns helps me create fresh content that meets you right where you are. You can chime in on the Facebook page, via Instagram, in the blog’s comment section, or by sending an email to marianvischer at gmail dot com.

I can’t thank you enough for your continued support and community here. It’s been nine years since I began writing online and I’m more grateful than ever for the gift of kindred spirits and for this place to unwrap possibility together.

Love, Marian

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P.S. Let’s hang out on Instagram!

Treat Yourself / Weekend Links: Makeover Edition

It’s summer and my brain doesn’t feel like having to think too hard this weekend. Plus I need a time-out from all of the big opinions of the day. Is it too much to ask for all of us to just love our fellow man and then go paint some furniture together? It is. But that won’t stop me from dreaming of pretty walls and enjoying a yummy lunch and painting furniture by myself.

Also, a fun announcement. There’s a little something I’ve been working on these last few months. It’s free. It’s for you. It’ll be on the blog next week. Yay! Check back in, subscribe, and all that good stuff so you won’t miss it.

Now on to the weekend. May these links inspire you to re-imagine what’s right in front of you — whether it’s a cast-off piece of furniture, your refrigerator’s tired produce, a blank space on your wall that’s begging for art, or empty hands that just need a good book. Happy weekending!

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Sewing Cabinet To Outdoor Bar from Sweet Pea.

My screen porch called and said she wanted this for parties. Please send all the old, empty sewing cabinets my way. I’m super lazy these days when it comes to rehabbing a piece of furniture but this one looks easy-ish and can work for everything from a party for grown-ups to a tub full of gatorades for my kids and their friends. Not to mention an iced-coffee bar. Tons of possibilities with this one.

Bizarro Meal Prep that Changes the Game from Kendra Adachi at The Lazy Genius Collective.

At first this sounded like it required more energy than I felt like giving because my lazy streak is a mile wide. But I’ve done this a couple of times now when I’m already working in the kitchen. It’s easy and makes you feel like a superhero when a lackluster Tuesday rolls around and you have a yummy lunch or diced veggies already waiting for you.

Get Your Falling Free Bonus Freebies at Shannan Martin Writes.

If you preorder Shannan’s book {coming out in September / can’t wait}, she’ll fill your arms with all sorts of goodies, including this FREE downloadable fine art print by Jess Franks. #swoon

You’re welcome. {I’ll be chatting more about this book in the weeks to come.}

And here’s a couple of summer posts from yours truly that you may have missed:

My 5 Favorite Literary Novels Ever

How to Receive Your Own Summer Life

Thank you Emily Freeman for recently featuring this one on “For Your Weekend.” What a sweet and happy gift.

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I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox no more than a couple of times a week.

{P.S. Let’s hang out on Instagram.}

My Top 5 Favorite Literary Novels Ever

My reading life has languished a bit this summer. I blame Netflix and a $20 fine at the library which I didn’t feel like paying until last week.

But I still love books and I have a few on my list for the summer, none of which I’m going to talk about in this post.

I’ve been crushing on Anne Bogel’s podcast, “What Should I Read Next?” Anne listens to her invited guest talk about their 3 favorite books ever {and why}, as well as their least favorite book ever {and why.} Then she provides suggestions as to what the guest should read next. It’s brilliant.

Her podcast inspired me to make my own lists of favorite books. Normally I’m pretty good at seeing patterns but y’all, I could not for the life of me find patterns in my favorite books.

Until I started writing about them for this post. And then I could totally see it.

Apparently I like character-driven stories and have a deep appreciation for nuanced settings, especially if that setting is a southern one. I’m also drawn to stories that are grounded in issues of race and class. These can be some of the hallmarks of literary novels, which I’ll explain in a minute.

Character-driven stories are sometimes more tedious. I’m not a patient person, so this sort of surprised me until I realized that I’ve always been drawn to complicated narratives that carry a deeper message. Perhaps the pattern will be different when I investigate my favorite mainstream fiction reads? I’m curious to find out.

I decided to break down my best ever fiction reads into two categories: favorite literary novels and favorite mainstream fiction. Otherwise it feels like comparing apples to oranges.

“What’s the difference?” you may ask. I’m no literature professor so I had the same question. I know a literary novel when I read one but I wasn’t sure how to clearly define the difference.

Here’s a super helpful post written for normal people {like us!} that breaks down the two categories in a simple way. Essentially, literary fiction “tends to focus on complex issues and the beauty of writing itself.” This why they’re recommended in high school and college literature classes; they require critical thinking and invite meaningful dialogue. Writers Relief says to “Think of literary fiction as a manifesto of sorts—it’s driven by the ideas, themes, and concerns of the novelist, often producing a narrative that is at times controversial.”

I’ll get to my top mainstream picks in another post. For now, let’s feast on these five rich literary reads and why I love them.

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Favorite Literary Novels {in no particular order}

The Known World by Edward P. Jones

One of my dear friends from grad school gave me this book for my birthday soon after it was published. She thought I’d love it and she was so right.

I soon learned that everyone doesn’t love it as much as I do. Not long after reading it, I joined a book club and recommended this one. They all hated it. Yay for picking the book no one wanted to finish!

I’ll be the first to admit it’s not super accessible. The writing is gorgeous but not easy. The pace is slow, something I can’t always handle because I’m impatient. But if you like 19th-century southern history, the kind that deals with race and slavery and complicated relations, you might dig it. {The subject matter was my focus in grad school which probably explains my love for it.} If I was teaching a specialty class in college again, I’d make this book required reading, even though it’s entirely a work of fiction.

The characters are complicated and brilliantly crafted. The setting is palpable. The story is a work of genius. The historical context is accurate. Also? It was the dude’s first novel and it won the Pulitzer. Boom.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

I read this in high school. Then I listened to the audio several years ago with my daughter while driving to and from the South Carolina low country {which only added to the experience of this story.} We enjoyed it again this past spring for her freshman English class.

I love the people of this novel so much it brings me to tears. Scout and Atticus are two of my favorite characters in the history of the world, even if they’re not real. The sheer mention of this story sends all my senses to imaginary Maycomb, Alabama.

When I listened to the audio version several years ago, I was blown away by the narration. Sissy Spacek is the reader and she nails it. Highly recommend.

Again, the pace is slow but I become so enamored with the characters and the setting that I don’t care. If I were president, I’d make this book required reading for every American. It feels more relevant now than ever. The end and Amen.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers

Here’s what amazon says about this novel:

Carson McCullers was all of 23 when she published her first novel, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. She became an overnight literary sensation, and soon such authors as Tennessee Williams were calling her ‘the greatest prose writer that the South [has] produced.’
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter tells an unforgettable tale of moral isolation in a small southern mill town in the 1930s. Richard Wright was astonished by McCullers’s ability ‘to rise above the pressures of her environment and embrace white and black humanity in one sweep of apprehension and tenderness.’ Hers is a humanity that touches all who come to her work, whether for the first time or, as so many do, time and time again.

Twenty-three. Years. Old. I don’t even know how that’s possible.

Again, slow-ish pace, unforgettable characters, a 1930s southern setting you experience with all your senses, and, you guessed it — themes of race, class, and poverty. If you like Flannery O’Connor, you’ll like this book. This is another top pick for an audio book because the narration is exquisite.

East of Eden by John Steinbeck

Someone told me that this book is the “great American novel” and I’m inclined to agree. Identity, land, individualism, destiny — it’s all here. Even though it’s a classic, I didn’t read it until two years ago. It looks big and intimidating but I finished it in a week, surely to the neglect of other important things. For a literary novel, it moves pretty quickly.

From amazon:

Set in the rich farmland of California’s Salinas Valley, this sprawling and often brutal novel follows the intertwined destinies of two families—the Trasks and the Hamiltons—whose generations helplessly reenact the fall of Adam and Eve and the poisonous rivalry of Cain and Abel.
The masterpiece of Steinbeck’s later years, East of Eden is a work in which Steinbeck created his most mesmerizing characters and explored his most enduring themes: the mystery of identity, the inexplicability of love, and the murderous consequences of love’s absence.

Speaking of mesmerizing characters, this story has the best she-villain of any book I’ve ever read, a character so pathological you just can’t get enough of her. Also, the QUOTES from this story are profound. I highlighted more quotes in this book than in any other novel.

It’s hard for quotes to stand alone without any context but Steinbeck has a way of delivering a sermon with only a couple of lines. It’s a gift. Don’t believe me? Just read a few for yourself.

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

I read this book when I was 16 years old and I can still remember where I was when I finished it, sobbing, life forever changed even though I couldn’t explain why. It would be years before I could appreciate and articulate the themes of redemption and forgiveness in a grown-up way. But they captured my young heart through this story in a way I’ll never forget.

From the book jacket:

Les Miserables ranks among the greatest novels of all time. In it Victor Hugo takes readers deep into the Parisian underworld and immerses them in a battle between good and evil…Within his dramatic story are themes that capture the intellect and the emotions: crime and punishment, the relentless persecution of Valjean by Inspector Javert, the desperations of the the prostitute Fantine, the amorality of the rogue Thenardier and the universal desire to escape the prisons of our own minds.

Real talk. This book is slooooow and sometimes painfully tedious. Also, the military backdrop of the uprising of 1832 makes certain sections a yawn fest unless you’re into battle scenes. {Guess who’s not?} Honestly, you can skim or even skip those sections because the real appeal of this book is Jean Valjean, the main character.

So there you have it, a small stack of literary faves vouched for by a real person. I’m always looking to add recommended reads to my list so what are some of your favorites? We can dish in the comments or on the blog’s Facebook page. : )

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I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox no more than a couple of times a week.

{P.S. I’ll be hanging out on Instagram this summer. Join me?}

*Book links are amazon affiliates.

How to Receive Your Own Summer Life

How’s your summer going? If that feels like a loaded question, this post is for you.

We think summer is all about freedom, but then we’re bothered because this lazy season doesn’t it take a break from comparison, envy, and unrealistic expectations. I know it’s not just me because occasionally I get out and talk to people.

We don’t all have community pools, live in idyllic neighborhoods, or pass the days on a family homestead dotted with gurgling brooks and bunnies. We may not have any accessible watering holes. We may not live in a neighborhood. We may have zero budget for vacations.

Summer can sure mess with our gratitude, especially when we’re bombarded with the realities of everyone else’s seemingly better summer. “Oh, you went to Belize? How lovely. We went to our local lake one day where I fished a used diaper, a Lunchables container, and the plastic part of a needle out of the murky water all in the same outing.” {True story from when my kids were little.}

I remind myself that one never knows the truth behind the Facebook or Instagram photos. Remember how our summer kicked off with a celebratory lunch turned complicated mess? I could have taken a super cute family selfie on said trip to Chick-Fil-A, all of us smiling as we launched Summer 2016 with ice cream and happy togetherness. You would have thought, “Those Vischers. Look how much they love each other.”

The real story is a sketchy parking lot on the way to Chick-Fil-A, peace negotiations within the confines of my minivan, and a mom who was so ticked off, she almost drove home and let everyone eat microwave popcorn for lunch. “Happy First Day of Summer Kids! Here’s some kernels coated with chemical butter to help you celebrate!”

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I’ve been writing and even speaking about this thing of “receiving your own life” for a long time. But lately I feel as though I’ve regressed all the way back to kindergarten. This makes me feel like a fraud. Also? It’s frustrating.

For my most recent birthday, a dear friend stamped these words on a bracelet for me: “Receive My Life.”

She had no idea how much I’d need it this summer as I ache with invisible scars and fight for gratitude as though my life depends on it.

Because my life does depend on it. And so does yours.

In many ways, we’re having a great summer. We’re not getting a house ready to sell like Summer 2014. We’re not buying and selling a house like Summer 2015. We’re not sprinting after toddlers who can’t swim like Summers 2001-2012. My kids can feed and entertain themselves while I work from home. The guys have golfed a lot and my girl and I have watched Netflix together like it’s our job.

This summer provides enough commitment to keep us in a routine but enough downtime to sink into a lazier rhythm. Plus I have a screen porch.

It has been lovely in so many ways.

But beneath the lovely there is still junk. Plus a rogue arrow of envy that has come out of left field and pierced my heart something fierce. “Summer, why won’t you give me a two-month break from what ails me and leave me on my porch with house magazines and cold beverages?”

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But summer hasn’t given me a break from the brokenness of the world around me or the brokenness of the world within me.

Instead, summer gives me a choice: open my hands to receive it all as grace or keep my fists clenched, shaking them at God and others.

I don’t always make the right choice.

Here’s what I’m still learning the hard way. You can spend your seconds turned minutes turned years wishing for a life that isn’t yours, making yourself and everyone else miserable in the process. Or you can choose to receive the beauty, provision, and even heartache of your actual life. I have a million things to be grateful for. I simply forget. And so do you.

There are things we shouldn’t have to receive, situations that it’s okay to fight against. I’m not talking about being a doormat; I’m talking about accepting that which we can’t really change — the baggage, the fallout, the limitations, the people — as we walk the path of healing, acceptance, and possibility.

I make it sound easy but let’s be honest; it’s war. Every day my real life — with all of its brokenness, lack, fear, and questions — puts up a fight and goes to war with my contentment.

And so I fight.

Sometimes that means I avoid certain people and places on the internet. Because even though I know there’s no perfect, certain things are just too much for my fragile spirit.
Sometimes that means I pour all of the brokenness into a journal so that my mind and heart have more space to receive the everyday gifts.
Sometimes that means I scrawl out my edited thoughts in this online space, pressing publish and blowing words into the world like the seeds of a dandelion, hoping they’ll land in the meant-to-be places.
Sometimes that means I pray. And sometimes it means that others pray for me because I am fresh out of energy to articulate my lament.
Sometimes that means I stop what I’m doing and eat from the word of God. Otherwise I walk around spiritually anemic, wondering why I’m so cranky and angry without an ounce of perspective. “Oh yes, I’ve forgotten to eat. No wonder I’m thinking and talking and acting like a crazy person.”
Sometimes that means I simply keep living, doing the next thing and not letting the hard stuff of my own life or the envied goodness of others’ lives define me.

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This season invites me to slow down, to enjoy my people, to rest in the undone, and to make time for beauty.

But as I’ve learned from prior seasons of rest — sometimes when we slow, the stuffed-down grief rises to the surface. It’s only June but summer is already reminding me {for the hundredth time} that life is a broken + beautiful mashup, that it’s okay to live in the tension because I’m not alone. I have Jesus, my friend who is no stranger to living in the tension. Jesus, who feasted with dearest friends one night while being led to his death soon after.

I tell him how I feel because He knows. I quit trying to fix broken things because I’m too tired and besides, that’s his job.

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This feels like a heavy post for summer. I wish I could share with you a fun recipe for fruity drinks or 10 Ways to Make This Your Best Summer Ever. But this is the true state of things and to give you anything else feels duplicitous.

Instead, I tell you that it’s okay to laugh with your friends one minute and cry into your iced coffee the next. To receive the slower pace while you also seek healing for wounds that won’t stop hurting.

In both fresh and familiar ways, this summer invites me to “receive my own life,” to etch hopeful patterns in my troubled mind and anxious spirit, even as I enjoy my kids and my porch and sleeping in.

Maybe summer is inviting you to do the same? To receive your own unique season of parenthood, your own summer plans {or lack thereof}, your own summer budget, your own real disappointments, your own real life.

And because I’m not going to Belize or doing anything impressive, I’ll be right beside you in all my ordinary, real-life glory.

you may also enjoy

When Life is a Broken + Beautiful Mashup

Choose Life, Even When It’s Falling Apart

When Summer Gives You Crazy and You Give It Right Back

I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox no more than a couple of times a week.

{P.S. I’ll be hanging out on Instagram this summer. Join me?}

For the Mom Who Has a Complicated Relationship With Summer: 5 Lazy Tips to Keep You Sane and Happy

We finished school on June 1st. Yay! To celebrate, I’d planned to take the kids out for lunch to inaugurate Summer 2016, going so far as to shower, put on mascara, and wear non-yoga pants.

But within minutes of picking up the last child from school, they were already fighting about where to go for lunch. One child wanted a fro-yo extravaganza. Another wanted a kids meal. The third one wanted an array of lunch options, followed by dessert.

I just wanted some gratitude and a minivan sans strife.

After pulling into a random parking lot and facilitating peace negotiations, we decided on our local Chick-Fil-A where the line was as long as I’ve ever seen it. In the proceeding minutes, I made a number of idle threats to each of them while lamenting our less-than-ideal summer kickoff.

Food has a way of making people seem human again and within a few minutes, we were all laughing at our outside table, talking about plans for next couple of months.

The whole situation felt like a metaphor for summer — a rough transition, selfish clamoring, dashed ideals, and eventual {though short-lived} peace and goodwill.

Summer, you throw me for a loop every year.

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Here’s the thing about my mom self. Maybe you can relate. I crave order and routine but appreciate plenty of room for spontaneity. I need structure but don’t like too many rules. Over the years I’ve tried all sorts of list-y things to keep us sane during the summer. Few of them had any staying power, probably because I, as the resident grown-up, am required to enforce the standards I create and sometimes I choose to take a nap instead.

So consider this “The Lazy Mom’s Guide to Summer Sanity.” These are the loose ideas that have worked for us as well as a few things I’m hoping to try this year.

1. Incentives are your best friend.

For you and for them. Because I work and write from home, I’m planning to wake up early and get my stuff done during the morning hours, while also keeping kids busy-ish with a few jobs around the house, reading books, walking the dog, etc. {Even as I type this, it sounds a bit like a pipe dream but one can hope.}

If we all finish our work, we get to go swimming, watch movies, play video games, stop at QT for slushies, etc. Work before play helps establish a loose routine, gets the work done, and rewards all of us at the same time.

2. Don’t freak out about screen time.

My boys last summer, gathered ’round ye olde iPod, memorizing raps.

Your kids will not die or get considerably more stupid by having extra screen time during the summer months. I often wish I was raising kids in the days before screens existed but we don’t get to choose our moments in history. For better or for worse, it’s 2016.

At our house, we have TVs, Netflix, and a Playstation. And my older two have personal devices. Even though we try to limit their access, we still have screens aplenty and I’m sure their brains aren’t awesome for it. At the same time, I have fond childhood memories of watching the same movies over and over again, playing Frogger on our Atari 5200, and watching murder mysteries with my mom. I still love movies and TV dramas. Story, whether in book-form, audio-form, or screen-form, enriches my life and provides a much-needed timeout while I do laundry or take time to unwind. I daresay it does the same for my kids.

3. Let the summer lists do the bossing.

Years ago, I got tired of “Mom, I’m bored!” and “Mom, can I have a snack?” every 15 minutes. So I made lists and put them on the fridge. They took all of five minutes to make.

Let the Snack List Do the Bossing: The Lazy Mom’s Guide to Keeping Kids Fed

“Mom, What Can I Do?” The Lazy Mom’s Guide to Supervising Children

It wasn’t a perfect system but it helped. Obviously the details need revision each summer because my teenage kids are no longer interested in the things their 6-year-old selves enjoyed. Nor do they eat Go-gurts. It’s the concept that matters. Kids need helpful reminders and you need a break from “Mom!” every five minutes.

4. Make a SIMPLE Summer bucket list.

As in, each kid picks one or two realistic things. This gives you some loose goals without feeling like a failure by the end of the summer because you didn’t cross off all the things on your list. Some of ours are:

Visit a local fun park for mini-golf, go-karts, etc.
See Finding Dory together.
Tour a local historic / scenic place we’ve never visited.
{With my older two kids} Summer binge-watch a couple of Netflix series.

5. Keep a list of what you do.

A piece of notebook paper + a pen + a magnet + the front of your refrigerator = a written record of what you actually do this summer. Consider it a gift for your end-of-summer self, consolation that summer was better than it felt like on the days when the kids won’t stop fighting and it’s 1,000 degrees outside.

I’ve finished plenty of summers feeling like a loser mom who didn’t give my kids enough meaningful experiences / spend enough quality time with them. This summer I’m keeping a list and writing down everything from movies we watched and books we read to places we traveled and friends who visited.

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During the school year, summer always sounds like one extended vacation. But the truth is, our selfishness, idealism, and daily work don’t go on vacation. This means that summer can feel like a long hot season of dashed expectations.

I can’t solve all your summer probs or mine. But sometimes a few simple hacks or a change in mindset can go a long way in making things more realistically awesome for everyone involved.

Next week, we’ll talk about how to receive your own life this summer. Because sometimes it feels like everyone is vacationing in Belize while you’re stuck at home with a rubbermaid container as a swimming pool in your driveway.

What are your favorite summer sanity-savers?

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I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox a couple of times a week.

{P.S. I’ll be hanging out on Instagram this summer. Join me?}

Weekend Links: Treat Yourself to Summer Awesomeness

Happy Summer, friends! It’s been a bit quiet on the blog this week but never fear. I’m storing up some fun summery goodies for you, rolled out at a leisurely pace in the coming weeks because that’s what summer should be.

In the meantime, the internet has rolled out some gifts of its own this week and I don’t want you to miss out on great reads, awesome showtime, and much-needed moments of stillness to reset our soul and spirit as we transition from hustle to a slower pace.

Enjoy this early summer weekend!

The Minimalist Summer Reading Guide from Anne Bogel at Modern Mrs. Darcy

Five carefully curated books in six wonderful categories. This is THE reading guide for “decision-haters.” {Hand raised!} I love Anne’s annual summer reading guide and this one may be my favorite, simply because she’s made it so easy for us

Introducing SHOW CLUB from Kendra Adachi at The Lazy Genius Collective

Kendra is my favorite lazy genius and she’s going to help us all get LOST this summer. Curious? You should be. Check it out.

7 Days of Still Moments from Emily P. Freeman

It’s like Emily surveyed my spinning mind and rapidly beating heart, took me by the hand, and said, “Oh sister, let me help you get your bearings during this time of change.” If you do nothing else today, do this. All you have to do is click. Emily does the rest and your soul will be the better for it.

a personal note:

It’s been a frantic and heavy two weeks for us. In the midst of typical end-of-school-year crazy, we attended / participated in two funerals over five days. Don’t worry, we’re okay. While death is always painful, these passings were, in a way, timely instead of tragic. After 73 years of marriage, my dear grandparents died just 5 days apart. We have grieved but we’re also grateful. In many ways we should all be so lucky.

I’m fascinated by the mystery of two hearts linked together like that; it’s the stuff movies are made of. But for us, they were simply a real couple that we had the privilege of knowing and loving for so many years.

Their love story inspired this post, What “For Better or For Worse” Really Means.

Don’t worry, it won’t make you feel like you need to try harder in your own marriage. It’s simply an honest account of how their 73-year commitment has helped breathe life into my own weathered union. If you’re tired of feeling like marriage sometimes {or all the time} brings out your worst instead of your best, rest assured. You’re not alone.

coming up:

Next week I’ll share some sanity-saving thoughts for the mom who has a complicated relationship with summer. {Hand raised again.}

Let’s just say the Vischer house did not get off to the happiest of starts. I’ll tell you the story next week. Thankfully there’s always hope for a restart. It’s the first of several posts I’ll serve up in the coming weeks to make summer a bit more realistically awesome for you.

I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life. If that sounds like something you need, subscribe in the box below to have fresh hope delivered to your inbox once or twice a week.

{P.S. I’ll be hanging out on Instagram this summer. Join me?}

What “For Better or For Worse” Really Means

The story goes that when he finally came home from World War 2, she nearly knocked him over as she threw her long arms around him.

You couldn’t blame her. She’d prayed for his safe return as days turned into months that turned into years.

Worry hung like heavy fog across the whole world back then. But I think most about the worry of her own inner world that was spinning a mile a minute on a thin axis of hope. She spent nearly 1,000 days as a young wife without the certainty of her husband’s heartbeat. Can you imagine such a thing?

They went on to have three children, four grandchildren, and thirteen great-grandchildren. They served together in the home, in the church, in the public schools, and in the community. For seventy-three years they served together.

Last Friday around 3 am he peacefully went to be with Jesus. Five days later, also around 3 am, she joined him. It is surely one of the most bittersweet things I’ve ever witnessed.

The morning after her husband had passed, my dad went to see her straight away — to comfort his mother and to make sure she understood that her husband of all those years was gone. “Oh Lord,” she wept, “What am I going to do?”

Less than 48 hours later, she was unresponsive. We buried my grandfather, all of us emotional through the military honors as they handed my aunt the American flag. Two hours later we were at Gigi’s bedside, telling her goodbye and giving our blessing to fly on home.

After 73 years together, they left this earth just 5 days apart.

My daughter said she can’t imagine being married to someone for 73 years, that a couple would surely drive one another crazy and get “super annoying” after all that time. I told her I can’t imagine it either and I affirmed that indeed, you do drive one another crazy and it doesn’t take 73 years.

I can’t remember all the words of our conversation but I remember a few. I told her that marriage isn’t contingent on things like not getting on each other’s nerves and our ever-changing feelings. That those early, fiery emotions don’t quite burn with the same intensity forever.

“They don’t?!? You mean you don’t always feel that way? That’s terrible! I don’t know if I want to get married.”

“You begin to experience something deeper and more lasting than that,” I told her. “The fire gives way to a depth of love and devotion that’s hard to explain.”

It felt like a watershed moment for me, a moment where my own words stared me square in the face and dared me to believe what I’d just spoken out loud.

My grandparents’ story is a love story but not in the Hollywood sort of way. The truth is, they bickered with one another like the old married couple they were. She fussed at him because of what he ate and he fussed at her for fussing at him. They were opposites in every way, each with their own brand of willfulness. He was a boisterous extrovert who lived a very public life and rarely had an unspoken thought. She was more private and introverted. But she had a dry wit that we began to observe {and relish} as she got older. Usually she directed her well-timed barbs at my verbose grandfather, putting him in his place while the rest of us giggled. It always caught us by surprise.

Last summer, after she had moved in with my parents in order to receive the increasing care she needed, he came regularly to visit with her. The kids and I were over there often and Papa always greeted Gigi in the same way: “HELLOOOO SWEETHEART!”

Sometimes his overtures were well-received. Sometimes they weren’t. Perhaps dementia made her unpredictable; perhaps her own emotions made her unpredictable. She always came around eventually, but it was a reminder that marriage remains a complicated dance until the very end.

I’ve been married nearly 21 years. I keep waiting for it to be predictable and uncomplicated, to settle into a rhythm of ease and harmony. I don’t know whether it’s comforting or disconcerting that after 73 years, my grandparents didn’t feel like lovebirds all the time. {Or even most of the time?}

This week their 73-year commitment has breathed new life into my own weathered union, reminding me that it’s a precious gift to grow old together, especially when you’ve walked through the fires of real life to get there.

I know the intent of “for better for for worse” vows. Whether things are going well or going horribly, you stay together. But I’m learning to translate those words differently.

This person will see you at your best and at your worst. And this person will bring out both your best and your worst.

Marriage isn’t for the faint of heart because it is both humbling and humiliating. I only want to see my best! I only want others to see my best! I only want to be around people who bring out the best in me! I want to immerse myself in work that showcases my best!

Marriage doesn’t let you hide. And that may be the toughest thing about it.

Though death snuffs out life, it has a way of resurrecting perspective. This week I’ve thought a lot about real love, the kind of love that serves others. How it’s not the name we make for ourselves that matters but the life of sacrifice we pour out, the daily commitment that often goes unnoticed because it doesn’t garner “likes” or “retweets” or even a “thank you.”

My marital idealism flew the coop long ago. Our children already know that marriage isn’t easy and 100% romantic. We’ve been excellent role models in that way.

My hope is simple and singular — that my children will look at our life together and see the power of the Gospel of Grace through Jesus Christ.

I hope they will say,

My mom and dad saw the absolute worst of one another and chose love anyway. It was the love during their worst that somehow rescued their best, transforming each of them into a version of themselves that never would have been possible otherwise.

This is what Jesus has done for me — seen me at my worst and loved me anyway. This is what Jesus has done for my husband — seen him at his worst and loved him anyway. This is what Jesus has done for the world — seen it at its worst and loved it anyway. Only this kind of love can bring out the best.

Not a manufactured best or a self-improvement-book best or an only-showcase-your-strengths best —

Our truest best is only born out of being lovingly rescued from our truest worst.

I’m not sure why God chose marriage to be this most two-edged of mirrors but He did.

It’s easy to look at those 73 years together, wax on about commitment, and feel inspired to pull our best selves up by our bootstraps and go “live a legacy.” But willpower is no lasting match for two people who have pledged their lives to one another in wedded ~~ignorance~~ bliss. My grandfather survived the jungles of New Guinea and my grandmother survived the hot textile mills as a lonely war bride. But there were surely moments when they barely survived one another.

Thankfully, the sin and struggle didn’t get the last word. Love did.

When my Papa arrived at his true home last Friday, it was only right that Gigi didn’t wait long before she flew home too. I like to think that she gave it a few days just to make him sweat it out a little bit, one last playful jab as she finally got her turn to have the last word.

But without him by her side, there was no real point in sticking around. I think she held on for him, even through her own suffering, because hers was a love that waited and sacrificed for the ones she loved.

This time she was the one who returned home to him and I imagine that she nearly knocked him over for the second time, both of them overjoyed to be reunited.

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I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox a couple of times a week.

How I Became an Accidental Optimist

“You might be dangerously close to actually becoming an optimist.”

That’s what one of my friends told me recently. She’d received disheartening news about a project and we were trying to stay positive, attempting to see next steps through eyes of hope, wondering how we might repurpose what she had.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that statement. Me? Becoming an optimist?

I’m old enough to know by now that change doesn’t happen overnight, that our personalities and quirks are more entrenched than we’d like them to be. But I think my friend might be right, even if those closest to me are still skeptical.

I’m beginning to see the world through possibility-colored glasses.

I make myself sound so Disney. Don’t be fooled. I still worry and entertain fatalistic thoughts. I fuss at the people in my house and roll my eyes. But the tide within me is turning. I’m more determined than ever to look beyond how a situation appears and imagine potential in its place. Ever since my friend made that statement, I’ve wondered what’s brought about the change. Life hasn’t gotten any easier; the climb has actually felt steeper this last year as I’ve struggled with grief, exhaustion, confusion, and chronic setbacks.

Why the optimism?

Because I’ve been practicing without even knowing it.

Way back in the dark ages of blogging, an overwhelmed homeschool mom with three young children had said goodbye to a career she loved to focus full-time on raising and teaching her children. She was grateful to no longer be spinning so many plates but she did miss the intellectual stimulation and tangible productivity her work provided. She started a blog. What began as random posts slowly became coherent-ish pieces, everyday stories through which she was learning about failure and grace and everyday gifts she’d been too busy to appreciate.

Writing, whether in my journal or on the blog, became a way for me to process the complexities and frustrations of life. As I did, a serendipitous thing often happened: I found clarity and resolution, rest for my soul, perspective that I didn’t have when I began. It wasn’t always that tidy but the point is, writing helped me. Sometimes I shared what I’d written and it helped others feel less alone in their crazy and more hopeful about their mess.

Sunday I talked with a friend who told me that her daughter always needed to write in a journal before she turned out the light. She struggled to fall asleep if she hadn’t poured out her thoughts and emotions first.

My youngest child has a spiral notebook. He writes about all the reasons why Nike is awesome. Pages y’all, about shoes and socks and shorts and why he loves them. Apparently Nike swag is the overflow of his eight-year-old heart. I’m not going to stop him; this too is self-expression as he professes undying love and devotion to Elite socks and the latest Lebrons.

My younger brother, someone who hated writing during his growing-up years, recently re-launched his blog. Writing showed up as a form of therapy for him as an adult. When he writes, his honest but hopeful words meet others in their own places of doubt and depression.

We’re not all wired to write. But I do think that spilling our words is more therapeutic than many people realize, inviting us to access the deep places or even just the superficial chaos, pouring it out and feeling the exhale that results. Therapists often advise those who can’t sleep to keep a pen and journal beside the bed, writing down the anxious thoughts and to-do list tasks that keep us from rest.

In countless ways, writing can provide a guest house for the occupants that overcrowd your inner world. The occupants are still around but they’re not right there, smothering you with their heavy presence.

And when our inner world isn’t so clouded and crowded with all the things, we can finally see with eyes of hope.

I share my life with readers, those I know and those I don’t, because words are both my worship and my offering. As every writer eventually learns, we are first and foremost to write what we know. My life is what I know. The stories with which I am most intimately acquainted are my own. But I’m learning that we have so much more in common than not, that in telling you my story — both the epic and the everyday chapters — I speak into your story too, providing a place for you to pull up a chair around the table we all share.

Words continue to help me name an unspoken thing and lead me along an unexpected route to possibility. I can’t explain it. But every time I’m crowded and clouded on the inside, I try to write through the overwhelm in order to see what comes out on the other side. Something always does. I never know how those posts will end up. Ever. It’s always a surprise and it always points toward hope, even though I’m “not an optimist.” It feels like a miracle every time.

After all these years, I’m just now fully realizing that the practice of writing has also been the practice of possibility. Practice doesn’t make perfect but it does bring change. Over the years, writing has slowly begun to etch new grooves in my thought patterns, to kick the dirt over the well-worn path of pessimism and to instead forge a new path of possibility.

Writing has been my faithful companion, a friend with layers of resourcefulness that I’m only now beginning to appreciate. She has been both a gentle guide and an exhausting coach, at times soothing me with her easy rhythms and at other times pushing me to dig deeper, to write even though it hurt, to persevere through all the self-doubt.

I trusted that she knew the way home, even if I didn’t, that she would excavate the truth and beauty I couldn’t get to without her. And somewhere along the way, my despairing self began to change, began to relentlessly hope, began to speak words of undying Possibility into my own narrative and also into the narratives of others.

I’ve become an Accidental Optimist. And I have writing to thank.

If you’ve been around here the last week or so, you’ve heard me share about Hope*Writers, my favorite resource for writers.

This jam-packed site is full of everything from how to write a blog post or a book proposal to tech helps and writer interviews. There’s also a private Facebook group where you can connect with other writers just like you. #ihearthopewriters

Hope*Writers is for anyone who writes, who wants to write, or who might be curious about writing. And this week, you can be part of their FREE Hope*Writers Summit, an event that gives you access to 12 video interviews with authors / writers / editors at various stages of the journey.

One of those 12 interviews is mine, a writer who’s been blogging for years, juggles writing with a paid job and a family, and hopes to write actual books one day. It’s an honor to be included in this mix of writers who I love and respect. I have gleaned so much insight and encouragement from their interviews.

I sit down with one of my favorite authors, Emily Freeman, and we dish about everything from unfinished books proposals to “stewarding your story,” something I’ve learned to do as I’ve written my way through messy chapters of my own life. You’ll learn why I write on my blog and in a journal. You’ll also learn why my husband is my best editor, even though he’s not a writer.

Curious? CLICK HERE to learn more and join me this week for the summit. The first day was yesterday but it’s not too late to get in on the fun. Join us!

I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox a couple of times a week.

*Affiliate Links: The Hope*Writer Summit is absolutely free but if you choose to join the Hope*Writers membership site, I receive a percentage at no extra cost to you. Affiliate links are one of the ways I’m able to cover costs and provide new content, year after year. So thanks for supporting my work!

Treat Yourself / Weekend Links: On Creativity, Laughter, and Letting Go

This weekend, may you find the space to create, may you be surprised by all the hilarity that surrounds you, and may you receive the little ones in your life with humor and chill, even if they’re driving you bananas. Happy weekend!

The emotions that make us more creative.

There’s something about living life with passion and intensity, including the full depth of human experience, that is conducive to creativity.

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I want to know the funny people who thought of ancient Greek sculptures dressed up in Hipster clothing. This slays me.

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A writer never really knows which words will resonate with the world she serves. Apparently these words did, and it sort of surprised me.

For the Overwhelmed Mom of Little Kids: 8 Things I Wish I’d Known

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And finally, join me for the FREE Hope*Writers Summit!

My FAVORITE resource that encourages me in my writing is Hope*Writers. I’m so happy to tell you about the Hope*Writers Summit that you can receive for FREE, only from May 16th-19th! Hope*Writers Summit is offering everyone access to twelve interviews. {And mine is one of them. #gulp}

I talk with one of my favorite authors, Emily Freeman, about everything from unfinished books proposals to “stewarding your story,” something I’ve learned to do as I’ve written my way through messy chapters of my life. You’ll learn why I write on my blog and in a journal. You’ll also learn why my husband is my best editor, even though he’s not a writer.

Curious? CLICK HERE to learn more and to sign up!

Each one of these interviews shows me that we have a lot in common as writers, but the road proceeds differently for each of us. I love that. In a world that’s obsessed with formulas and algorithms, I’m encouraged by the surprise, serendipity, and setbacks of each writer’s story. There’s no one right way to do this.

If writing is part of your life at all {or if it’s not but you maybe want it to be}, I highly recommend this online space.

When I’m drowning in my right-now life and wondering if this writing thing is worth it, I read a post or listen to an interview and just like that, I’m inspired and back in the game. For real. Hope*Writers is that encouraging. I hope you’ll join us!

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I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox a couple of times a week.

For the Overwhelmed Mom of Little Kids: 8 Things I Wish I’d Known

I’m not going to tell you to enjoy the little years because they pass so quickly. This is true. But it will not help you today when your toddler wails during lunchtime because you made the wrong shaped pasta. {My sister-in-law has three young boys and her Facebook page keeps me apprised of the latest trends in toddler rebellion.}

I will not tell you to seize the day and cherish all the things. Because you just can’t right now. You are living with tiny tyrants and they make daily life both hilarious and impossible. They wake up at night when the rest of the sane world is sleeping. They refuse to take naps when rest is exactly what they need. They think 4 am is a reasonable start time. They embarrass you in Target. Their volume control is very much in development. They shove peanuts up their nose because they have no sense.

We’ve been watching home movies lately from my big kids’ little years. This has wrecked me emotionally as I am terribly sentimental / wish I could go back in time and do it ALL differently. I can’t. But if I could, these are the pearls of wisdom I would go back and tell myself.

1. Your children are at the climax of cuteness right now.

Kiss them constantly and take videos that you won’t have to delete from your phone because the storage is full. Drag out the 2001 Sony Handy Cam and capture 20 glorious minutes of his third birthday. One day they will lose their chubby cheeks and baby teeth and silken toddler hair spun by angels. Their munchkin voice will not always be so munchkin-like.

Even these big kids of mine are grieving the loss of their own little years. “I loved being that age! I want to go back!”

Since watching the movies, my 6th-grade son keeps telling us he wishes we weren’t too old to have another kid, a statement that feels both precious and insulting.

My teenage daughter is all, “Mom! We were the cutest kids ever! We should have been models!” And I’m all, “You WERE the cutest kids ever! Why was I always frustrated? How could any mom be stressed when her kids are that adorable?”

Their right-now toddler cuteness is not just protection that keeps loving but exasperated parents from committing violent crimes; it will be a later-on reminder {when you’re watching home movies / weeping} that parenting is a privilege, that is goes by too dang fast, and that you really are #blessed.

The flashbacks to the cuteness of their little years has helped me see them differently this week, adolescent awkwardness and all. I’m reminded that even though they can take their own showers and fix their own food {glory!}, they are still needy and vulnerable. My job is far from done. One day I’ll look back on right now with the same thoughts — they are young and precious; simply try to enjoy them, glorious mess and all.

2. Laugh.

Babies and little kids are professional comedians. Their antics and ridiculous are effortless. Take every opportunity to see the humor in it all. If we can’t laugh, we’re missing out on comedy day every day. If your toddler is so not making you laugh right now, remind yourself that little kids are pretty much like tiny drunk adults. Or read the Honest Toddler whose Twitter feed should be required reading for any stressed-out parent of a little kid.

3. Their weird attachment won’t last forever.

My oldest son went through a phase where he slept with a desk chair in his bunk bed. A DESK CHAIR. There is no rational explanation. For some reason, I chose to fight this battle until I realized that the chair wasn’t a real problem; it was simply a strange thing to want in one’s bed.

Ask yourself these three questions: Is it hurting anyone? Is it a threat to someone’s sanity? Is it immoral?

If the answer is “no,” you’re probably okay.

My youngest took a bottle with him to bed for much too long. I finally got worried and cut a larger hole in the tip so that milk would drip onto his face. Naturally, it worked. Not that I’m recommending my crazy ways. Just keep things in perspective. I have yet to see a college student who leaves home and still needs a pacifier or demands to be rocked to sleep each night. {It’s a weird world though. I’m sure it’s happened.}

4. They’re learning to become independent.

This is the goal of parenting, right? Like baby chicks in the nest, we feed them and protect them and nurture them. But we also teach them how to fly and navigate this big world on their own.

Let’s be honest. Learning to fly is a disaster for everyone involved. If you don’t believe me, google some nature videos on baby birds learning to fly. It’s a flurry of feathers and squawking and panic and death-defying swoops.

But the babies will never learn to fly if the mamas don’t let them practice.

I wish I’d stood back and let my little ones exercise more independence when it was appropriate. I fought far too many unnecessary battles, all in the name of “teaching them to obey.” {Which they have to learn but I don’t believe it’s the chief end of parenting.}

And can we talk about battles for a moment? The very word implies fighting, bloodshed, and exhaustion. If you spend all your time battling your three-year-old who wants to wear a ridiculous outfit and fix her own hair, you’ll have nothing left when that same three-year-old bites her baby brother or throws her cup of milk in your face.

Save your energy for the battles that matter. She will not always wear 517 barrettes in her hair, nor will she always vehemently refuse your help. Let her practice doing things in her own way. One day, her courage and resilience will astound you.

And you may be surprised when things come full circle. That spirited three-year-old will quickly turn fifteen and have her first high school dance. You just might be the one she asks for help with her hair. {Minus the 517 barrettes.}

5. Let PLAY reign supreme.

This may be the only thing I feel like I did “right” and do you know why? Because I was tired. I couldn’t be the voice of Tika the baby elephant and carry on exhausting conversations with Barbie Island Princess.

“Mom, will you help me build a Lego zoo?”

“No thanks, I have an important nap to take. Get your sister to help you or read the instructions.”

“Oh, you can’t read yet? Okay, just pretend you can.”

My kids learned early that their mom was a lazy mom when it came to play. This meant toys everywhere and lots of art supplies to clean up. But it also meant free-range kids who loved to play outside and build a city where Polly Pockets and plastic animals could live in harmony. In God’s ironic and gracious providence, my slacker mom status resulted in kids who had vivid imaginations and enjoyed copious amounts of playtime. It’s the one thing I wouldn’t do any differently and it was sort of accidental. Being a tired introverted mom has its perks.

6. Don’t over-schedule the little years.

I see parents of young kids shuttling preschool children to ballet and Chinese lessons and piano and soccer and I’m like, “Why?” One day they will be teenagers and you will spend so many hours each week in your minivan, the driver’s seat will have a permanent imprint of your behind. Your Toyota Sienna will feel like an RV because you live in it. Pace yourself, dear parent.

7. Hang out with older moms.

It doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with your mom friends and their littles at the park. But here’s the thing. You are all in the same stage of parenting. No offense but you have zero perspective. An older mom who you love and respect will be balm to your striving soul. She will remind you of what matters and what doesn’t. She will tell you it’s going to be okay, and she will redefine what “okay” actually means.

I have several older moms in my life, women whose kids are grown or nearly grown. Their grace and perspective is priceless. Plus they’re crazy about my children and just seeing how much they love them reminds me of how lovable my kids really are. We all need to see our kids through the eyes of those who love them fiercely but aren’t their parents. {Grandparents can be awesome for this.}

8. You are more than your kids. You are more than your motherhood.

Even with all our supposed advancement as women, I feel like moms today are more obsessed than ever with being a “good mom.” We are drinking from the Fountain of Mommy Guilt like it’s free margarita night and have therefore lost our minds.

{This is the part where I put on my bossy pants.} Listen up Young Mom. You are more than your kids. You are more than how your kids turn out. You are more than how many times you volunteer at the school. You are more than your work / family balancing skills. You are more than your kids’ success and you are more than your kids’ failure.

Motherhood is a full-time job and it has nothing to do with whether you work or stay at home, whether you homeschool or send your kids to school. In the words of Elizabeth Stone,

Making the decision to have a child — it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.

These hearts of ours walking around outside our bodies? It means that a mother can’t ever truly rest. Not really. When is a mother ever not on call? When is she not worried about one thing or another regarding her kids?

In the midst of this full-time role as mother and this full-throttle culture of Professional Motherhood, don’t forget who you are. Don’t define yourself by false standards or others’ standards. Don’t lock up your former self for the next eighteen years.

I believe your kids need a mom who has endeavors that make her come alive, who knows that she was made to live art. Maybe you’ve stopped cooking the fancy meals you once whipped up with joy and passion. Perhaps you’ve put away the writing journals or the paint and canvases. Maybe you’ve stopped singing or given up on reading books that aren’t from the juvenile section of the library.

Maybe you should start again.

Just because motherhood is infinitely sacrificial doesn’t mean you die in every other aspect of your life. As you tend to the bodies and souls and talents of the ones in your care, don’t forget to tend to the body and soul and talents of the one who cares for them. A better you means a better mom.

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A fun announcement!

Join me for the FREE Hope*Writers Summit!

My FAVORITE resource that encourages me in my writing is Hope*Writers. I’m so happy to tell you about the Hope*Writers Summit that you can receive for FREE, only from May 16th-19th!

Hope*Writers Summit is offering everyone access to twelve interviews. {And mine is one of them. #gulp}

One of the things that makes me a better mom is giving myself permission to write. Though I’ve written in scattered journals since adolescence, I discovered blogging as my “escape hatch” when I was in the season of mothering / homeschooling my young kids. Though much has changed with school, work, home, and kids, writing has remained my faithful companion. I’m learning to create time to write even when it feels like I don’t have any to spare.

Curious? CLICK HERE to learn more and to sign up!

If writing is part of your life at all {or if it’s not but you maybe want it to be}, I highly recommend this online space.

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This post was featured on “Grace at Home” at Imparting Grace, a lovely online space hosted by Richella Parham.

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I’m all about helping you recapture the possibility of your right-now life.

If that sounds like something you need, sign up in the box below to receive fresh hope and possibility delivered to your inbox a couple of times a week.

Affilliate links: The Hope*Writer Summit is absolutely free but if you choose to join the Hope*Writers membership site, I receive a percentage at no extra cost to you. Affiliate links are one of the ways I’m able to cover costs and provide free new content, year after year. So thanks for supporting my work!