I’m getting a makeover around here … it’s coming soon (like next week! Squee!!). I’ve got a great designer who is also an amazing boss and fantabulous friend (and co-author). She’s helped me sort through some big changes I’ve been wanting to make for quite awhile. So, while all the details of fonts and plug-ins are being finalized, I thought I’d share about who I’m writing to when I sit down on my couch to peck away on the keyboard of my 13″ inch MacBook Pro (which, by the way, I’m still not sure I love).
I’m writing to the wife who really loves her husband and wants to know how to encourage him in his job and hobbies and as a father and spiritual leader in their home. And I’m writing to the woman whose marriage looks nothing like she expected, the one who is struggling to make it through each day and wonders how she ended up married to a man she no longer likes. (Because the truth is, we’ve probably all been or will be on either extreme and most days we find ourselves somewhere in the middle.)
I’m writing to the mom who puts her kids on a bus to head to public school, thankful for the way her children thrive there. The mom who prays with her children and for their friends and teachers, who brings cupcakes for class parties and drives gaggles of giggling girls or sweaty boys to ball games and midnight movie premiers. I’m writing to the mom whose kids love their private school but who wonders how the baby she brought home yesterday is trying on a cap and gown for his high school graduation. I’m writing to the mom who homeschools and stares in awe at her daughter’s poise and grace and whispers words of gratitude to the God who made her so amazing. (Because when it boils down to it, we are our children’s first teachers and primary teachers … no matter where they learn reading, writing, and arithmetic.)
I’m writing to the woman who loves her job and is thankful for the opportunities her working has given her family. I’m writing to the mom who hates to cook and budgets for eating out several times a week. I’m writing to the mom who works from home with the dining room table serving double duty as a desk. I’m writing to the mom who stays home with her children … but longs for adult conversation sometimes. (Because that old cliche is true: Every mom is a working mom.)
I’m writing to the woman who feels unheard, unimportant, and unnecessary. And I’m writing to the woman who has a big, beautiful life and cherishes every minute of it. I’m writing to the woman who pursues her dreams and teaches her children to be dream chasers too. I’m writing to the woman who hasn’t gotten a new outfit since she had kids. And I’m writing for the woman who thrills at every new bargain she grabs from TJ Maxx. (Because each one is beautiful and valuable and vital! Even when we don’t feel very vibrant or necessary.)
I’m writing to those who have laundry piled high and dishes in the sinks, to the ones who would die if someone stopped by unexpectedly, and who never have a plan for supper. And I’m writing to the ones whose homes are organized and efficient and who bake cookies every afternoon. (Because, again, most of us are somewhere in between.)
I’m writing to the “I never miss my quiet time” crowd and to the ones who read last month’s issue of Journey while they fix lunches and check backpacks and load kids into the car during morning rush hour. (Because there’s no such thing as a perfect quiet time anyway … so make yours great as best you can.)
I’m writing to the real women I know … the ones who like fried pickles and funnel cakes, who watch Grey’s Anatomy, and who can’t remember the last time they flipped their mattresses. (Because, seriously, what is better than the occasional binge of fair food??)
I’m writing to women like me ... who wake up every morning and think, “Already?” But pull themselves from their warm beds to start another day of living life the best way they know how. We’re a mess, most of us. But we love to laugh and read a good book and have a date night with our husbands and watch our children grow into the people God created them to be.