Blessing upon blessing upon blessing. I hope I don’t sound like a broken record, but that’s all I could think about as I wrote this post. It was not hard to find good in this year, but I do believe when we pause and intentionally look for the good, we find more and more of it.
As you read along and reflect on your own year, I hope my musings might help you to pick out your own memorable moments. In the comments, please share a few of your best memories, finds, and favorites from 2021, if you’d like. As always, I can’t wait to hear!
Best adventure/travel/trip: We were lucky to go on several memorable trips this year, but I think Jekyll Island tops the list! It was our first official “spring break” trip as a family, and staying at a resort was an enchanting novelty to our children (who are used to family cottages or Airbnbs). And returning to Cumberland Island after more than a decade was such a fun bonus!
Best TV show or movie:Ted Lasso, OBVIOUSLY. It is funny, sweet, so sincere, and full of life lessons I am still unpacking. The second season had its dodgy moments, but I still believe.
Best album or song: Can I choose a playlist, instead? The kids’ worship playlist I put together for the littles has been the best way to start our day in the second half of the year – we all love it! More about this soon.
Best follow on Instagram: I added a few gals I’m loving! Kristen Morris is my soul sister – she is a beautiful writer, a lover of stories, and has a knack for seeing and sharing the goodness, magic, and tenderness in everyday family life. Kate of Naptime Kitchen is the only person I can think of who actually nails the balance of approachability on Instagram – she brings peace, grace, and fun to that platform like no other. And it’s always a delight when This is Like Magic (“endless ways to make someone’s day”) pops up in my feed.
Best new podcast listen, newsletter subscribe, or blog follow: I added Jill Atogwe’s blog to my Feedly after meeting her as the new co-host of the Coffee & Crumbs podcast, a longtime favorite of mine. My newest podcast subscription is Risen Motherhood! I’ve tried following them on Instagram and subscribing to their blog, but so far the podcast is my favorite vehicle to enjoy them.
Best kiddo milestone: June going to kindergarten. Entering into formal schooling has made for such a big year for her and for our whole family, and I am just so grateful to God that she’s had an amazing experience so far. Loved celebrating this milestone with our first back-to-school dinner, too! And June learning to read!! That has just been mind-blowing, truly.
Best faith grower:Annie’s birth was the sweetest reminder of God’s kindness, faithfulness, and His mystery.
Best trend you tried: This was a big year for me and trends! I went full-on Nap Dress in well-documented fashion (easy to do, considering it was what I wore 50% of days for awhile there) and jumped into the world of fauxm Birks for all of our pool trips. After a little style consult with my girl Lisa, though, the biggest 2021 change might be tucking in my shirts — I was known to do a half-hearted front tuck here and there, but now I’m doing full tucks on the daily. I think I like it.
Best beauty purchase: After loving Beauty Counter’s Skin Twin foundation (it was my 2020 favorite beauty purchase!), I added their Skin Twin concealer to my repertoire earlier this year. Loved it just as much! Then the tip of the wand snapped off a few weeks ago, and now I’m eagerly awaiting a redesigned restock in spring 2022. Fingers crossed!
Best family memory: I still need to write up the recap, but our Black Mountain trip this fall felt so, so sweet. It was our first family trip with just the five of us, and the whole thing went remarkably smoothly. Multiple times throughout the weekend, I felt myself looking around and being so grateful and awestruck that this is the crew I get to hang with.
Best friend memory: There were some good ones this year I’ll remember for a long time! It wasn’t without difficulty (ahem, John’s injury) or expense, but I am SO GLAD three very pregnant gals made the garden party happen. And wow, we celebrated six years of Articles Club in style! On both occasions I sat around a beautiful, candlelit table long into the dark with great friends, delicious food, and excellent conversation, and it doesn’t get much better than that.
Best new tradition: Our Valentine’s Day mailbox was such a hit, and something the kids are still talking about months later.
Best habit you created:Baking with June and morning smoothies. Also, assigning our children the “after school jobs” of putting away their backpacks, putting their lunchboxes on the counter, putting away their jackets, and for June, charging her computer and refilling her snack container for the next day. It sounds small, but has been a big help as I unload my own things and get Annie situated.
Favorite blog post written:This post still kills me. Hard to read sometimes. Otherwise, I think one place I shine is sharing a personal take on topics many of us deal with but rarely see discussed, and this year, that was this post about deciding to have a third child. What a post to look back on now that sweet Annie is here in our family!
Best life or mom hack: Did you know that you can get a glass top for the Instant Pot? I’ve loved our IP but never felt it performed particularly well as a slow cooker (plus, you couldn’t smell whatever delicious thing was inside because of the seal!), but the glass top has been a game changer.
Best mama moment:Tea and pedicures with June is what immediately came to mind, but honestly, there were so many tiny moments – reading to all three kids on the bed, taking our first car ride as a family of five – of feeling completion, wholeness, and happiness in the weeks after Annie was born that were just the sweetest hugs from God confirming five is our number.
Best home improvement: Painting our master bedroom Hiring someone to paint our master bedroom has made the biggest difference! I’m often underwhelmed by the paint colors I choose even after much consideration, but this one (Benjamin Moore Pale Smoke) has been a winner. And it is all thanks to one of you – reader Emma came in hot with the recommendation and we ran with it!
Best little luxury you’ve enjoyed: This might sound funny, but walking June to school. We don’t get to do it every day, but when we do, I just love it so much. It takes more time than driving (kind of the luxury part!), but I get to be outside, moving my body and being with my girl, and there are few things better than that.
As always, I’m ending the year so grateful for the delights, big and small, that filled our year. I’ll be sharing more in my year in review post coming up soon, but in the meantime, please do share: what are some of your “bests” from 2021? Can’t wait to hear!
P.S. A few of my dear friends shared their 2021 favorites this week, too — Lisa, Stephanie, Kerstin, and Sam!
There are many ways to tell every story, and just as many ways to make meaning out of one. And so, as I thought about how to share the story of Annie’s birth here, as I twisted the memories from side to side, looking for what caught the light, I’ve come to decide that the story of our youngest daughter’s birth is above all a story of God’s faithfulness, His kindness, and His mystery. I would love to tell you about it.
Annie’s birth was my third c-section. To quickly recap: June, our first daughter, was delivered by c-section because she was breech. With Shep, I had the choice to attempt a VBAC or schedule another c-section. I planned to attempt a VBAC, but made it to my scheduled day with no signs of labor, and so delivered him by c-section, too. With a third baby at my practice, you no longer get a choice, so a third c-section it was!
I was a little nervous about this, because I had heard c-sections get harder with each subsequent one, but honestly was mostly relieved that I wouldn’t have to spend the whole pregnancy agonizing over whether to attempt a VBAC or not, as I did with Shep. And I had had two positive experiences with c-section deliveries and recoveries, so that was comforting!
One strange element of a scheduled c-section is that you get to choose your child’s birthday. As my due date approached, we compared the dates on the calendar to the doctors from my practice on call and debated the merits of various birthdays. In the end, it came down to either Thursday, July 8, or Monday, July 12. Those were the dates with my second and third favorite doctors (my first favorite, who delivered Shep, was not on call for the month of July!). We debated whether less-experienced nurses would be on during the holiday week. We discussed that a Fourth-of-July-week baby would be fun and festive. We looked at our work schedules. We considered proximity to John’s birthday (July 15th!). And we debated whether a few extra days might be just the time we needed to get John off crutches.
We eventually decided on July 8th. This time around, we didn’t need to worry about parents coming into town to watch our older kiddos, because they were already there! My parents had been staying with us for several weeks at that point to help care for all of us as John recovered and I progressed further and further into pregnancy.
And so we enjoyed our last few weeks as a family of four: a final date night to Mandolin, my niece staying with us to attend pony camp with June, our town’s Fourth of July parade, and, on the night before Annie’s delivery, a special picnic at one of our favorite parks with just the four of us. We ate pizza, the kids ran around, and we told them their sister’s name. It was special and sweet.
The next morning, we got up, took showers, finished packing our bags, hugged two sleepy kids, and left the house under a gray sky. We checked in at the Labor & Delivery wing at 6:30am for my 9:30am surgery, and after filling out a few last pieces of paperwork, were ushered to our room. Except… it wasn’t the room we were expecting. Instead of turning right to the Labor hall, as we had for June and Shep’s births, we were pointed left toward the surgical prep area.
And here, friends, is where we circle back to the primacy of expectations. Over and over again (and especially throughout pregnancy and my life as a parent), I have seen the power of expectations play out. When I have low expectations, I leave room for them to be happily exceeded. When I have high expectations, I leave room to be bitter and disappointed.
I made a particular point throughout my second and third pregnancies, and both newborn phases, to keep my expectations very neutral, and I really believe it was a key to my happiness throughout. I thought I had my hands open this time, too, but, as it turns out, not in the way I needed to.
Because the room we were ushered into was not the beautiful, comfortable, hotel-like room where we’d prepared for Shep and June’s births. No, this was a cold, empty, gray, windowless room with a narrow, hard, gurney-like bed. In my memory, it had a single crackling bulb dangling from the ceiling (that’s probably an exaggeration, ha). And friends, when the nurse closed the door after depositing us inside, I admit that I started to cry. And cried on and off for the next hour or so.
This is embarrassing to admit, no matter which way you look at it. As John gently reminded me, women have given, and still give, birth in circumstances orders of magnitude less clean, less comfortable, less safe. I had absolutely nothing to complain about, but, well, there it is. There I was. As I look back, I think a few things were at play:
Aesthetics matter to me. Lighting matters to me. A beautiful, comfortable space can lift my spirits and set me at ease, and a cold, harsh one can do the opposite. My emotions were already running high, knowing what was to come that day, and I think they went a little haywire when plunged into an unexpectedly harsh environment.
Something going off-script so early in the morning also sent me into a bit of a tailspin. If this was different, what else might have changed about the hospital’s policies? What else did I need to worry about or readjust my expectations on for the rest of the day?
Lastly and most significantly, being sent to this solitary, bare, out-of-the-way room made me feel less-than.
I know so many women battle feelings of inferiority when comparing their c-section births to “natural” ones, and thankfully, I had never really felt that way about either of mine. They were what I needed and resulted in healthy babies and a healthy mom, and that was good enough for me.
But to be put in this sad room, far away from all of the “normal” moms on the labor floor, made this feel far from a birth experience. It felt clinical. Surgical. None of the hustle and bustle, the cheerfulness, the light and warmth of the labor floor, the sense that exciting, wonderful things were happening all around us.
So yes, I cried. More than I’d like to admit – a hot concoction of frustration, confusion, anger, shame, and embarrassment. And I prayed. And finally, I slept. And when I woke up, God was gracious to give me a new lightness. I could joke with John about our surroundings, text with our families, follow the track of Tropical Storm Elsa (the eye was right over the hospital when I was in the operating room!), enjoy watching Wimbledon on the TV. I didn’t even mind the first few times our nurse popped her head in to let us know our surgery slot was being pushed back – from 9:30, to 10:30, to noon – and I was able to enjoy the now-familiar rhythms of c-section prep: meeting with the anesthesiologist, chatting with my doctor, getting a stomach bath, drinking the nasty liquid.
Finally, around 1:30pm, I was wheeled back to the surgery bay, John walking gingerly alongside. (Yes! He was cleared to walk in his boot without crutches just a day or two before her birth, though he still used them to get around most of the time.) As before, John and I parted ways at the surgery suite door so he could put on his gear and I could receive the epidural. Soon enough he appeared at my side, squeezing my hand.
One thing I was adamant about this time around was that I wanted worship music to be playing in the delivery room. As the surgery began and John pushed play on the songs I had put together, tears started to trickle down both sides of my face. He was, of course, worried when he saw this, and I remember saying, “No, no, it’s okay, they’re good tears, they’re good tears.”
In that moment, I was completely overwhelmed by the goodness of God. I was here, I was alive. My husband, the absolute love of my life, was at my side. I had two amazing, healthy babies waiting for me at home. I was about to meet our third baby and I just couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms.
I thought about the worries I had sustained in all three of my pregnancies, how I didn’t have to worry about those things anymore. I thought about how lucky I was that I even got to have a third baby. I thought about how grateful I was for this season of my life, of carrying and giving birth to our babies, how grateful I was to have been invited into this miracle and mystery three times over. How could I not cry? I’m tearing up now.
I said this was a story about God’s goodness and God’s mystery, and it is. I don’t know why I am so lucky. I don’t know why others are not. But I can assign the goodness and faithfulness of our story to God, because He is good and faithful, even when the circumstances are not. It’s what I’ve chosen to build my life on. The song that was playing when Annie was born was so fitting:
“There’s so much that I don’t see But I see You, but I see You And there’s so much that I don’t know But I know You, but I know You And there’s so much that I don’t understand But I have seen Your goodness And it’s just enough, that I’ll
Bet all I have on You, I bet all I have on You I bet all I have on You, I bet all I have on You ‘Cause only a fool would find real love and just give it up I bet all I have on You, I bet all I have on You.”
Our daughter was born at 2:26pm and weighed just over 7 pounds. She had a head full of dark hair (still does!) and looked absolutely horrified to find herself in such a bright room. They kept her in the warmer for longer than I remember June and Shep being there, but she and I got to snuggle as they finished the surgery (which was smooth and uneventful – just how we like them :)) Soon enough, we were wheeled out into the surgery hallway, where we were monitored for another two hours or so before scooting over to the family recovery floor (thankfully, the same lovely rooms that we were in after both other births!).
In the months since, she has lived up to the promise of her birth – she is a true sign of God’s goodness and faithfulness, the sweetest and most precious baby girl. I’m so grateful for her story, and as always, for getting to share a bit of it with you. xo
Six years ago this month, Stephanie and I posted an invitation on our respective blogs: would anyone be interested in reading articles together and discussing them once a month? It would be like a book club, but with articles! That first night, we sat around my living room with snacks and drinks in hand, 10 or so strangers who just happened to have a little blog in common. I didn’t know anyone in the circle except for Stephanie… which is a pretty crazy situation for an introvert to find herself in.
These photos are from our six-year anniversary dinner on Stephanie’s back deck… it’s good to have a wedding planner in the group!!
Six years later, the faces around the circle are beloved friends. I wrote extensively about this realization last year, how these strangers had become true, dear friends, so I won’t go into it again. But the thing I’ve been trying to figure out recently, is why this group is so special. I mean, yes, we’re friends – lots of people have those. But everyone in Articles Club is completely besotted with Articles Club (seriously, just listen to Steph wax poetic), and I do have a few theories as to why that is.
1. It’s rare to meet dear friends later in life. Often, the new friends you do meet are the parents of your children’s friends and not necessarily those you’d pick for yourself, and so it feels positively spoiling to have gained a dozen kindred spirits in my late 20s and early 30s. Bonds grow quick and deep when you sit around a table for hours of conversation each month, discussing everything from childhood to work to parenting to relationships to politics to religion to finances.
2. We are all starved for community. The pandemic has exacerbated this, yes, but loneliness was an issue in the culture at large long before COVID. As many as 61% of young adults feel “serious loneliness” right now, and about half of Americans say they have three or fewer close friends (which represents a precipitous decline in friendship over the last few decades). I think I can speak for us all when I say I am SO GRATEFUL to have a guaranteed evening of friends, conversation, and laughter every single month in this bleak landscape.
3. We’re starved for meaningful, compassionate, nuanced discussion. It’s not all laughter :) To the table we bring different backgrounds and opinions and passions and convictions, and yet we’re able to have nuanced, generous conversation. We live out the idea that what we have in common matters so much more than what divides us. I can’t tell you what a haven this feels like in a sometimes-cruel world that loves to point fingers and keep score.
4. We appreciate what we each bring to the table. Stacy will make you split your pants with laughter (Libby, too). Bethany teaches us up-dos. Adelyn keeps us young. Kelly is our resident luddite. Ginna is our resident mom. Julia keeps us from trending too precious. Pressley and Chelsey are our forward scouts for almost every rabbit hole we could ever want to go down. And Stephanie makes us feel loved and special by seating us at the most beautiful tables. We’re all just normal people, but the things (and people) we love grow lovelier by loving them, and that’s definitely true of this group.
Yes, that is the chicken pot pie I made with a “six” carved into the top.
All this to say – I think you should start an Articles Club. I think our world would be a happier, kinder, wiser, more generous place if you did. I KNOW it might seem scary, or you might not know where to start. But YOU CAN DO IT, and I hope you do. Lots of tips here if you’d like to try :)
Now onto some of the articles we read in the past year together, if you’d like to read along!
I’d love to hear: what’s an article or essay you’ve read recently that made you want to discuss it with someone? Or, what do you think would be an interesting theme to discuss with a group like this? Leave a link – we’re always looking for new ideas! :)
At long last, I’m back with the third and final entry in this blogging series! We’ve chatted about the nuts and bolts of blogging and all about content, and today we’re wrapping things up with deep thoughts, the future, and other assorted grab bag items. (There will be one more series-adjacent post with writing tips – coming soon!) Thank you again for your questions, your interest, and your engagement, with this series and always. It means so much!
Without further ado…
Mostly unrelated, but the cutest package from my friend Katie’s shop!
I’ve noticed you have quite a lot of readers who also comment, so I am wondering how they get here. Once they’re here, how do you get them to stay and become involved enough to comment?
Great question. I do not know the exact answer, but I have a few theories.
1) Many of my earlier readers found me through Southern Weddings. SW was a beloved and personal brand (I wrote about my wedding planning on it!), and so many readers felt they knew me and cared about me before they ever found Em for Marvelous. Working with Southern Weddings was a shortcut to people caring about me.
2) I genuinely care about my readers, and I think (I hope!) that comes through in my writing, my choice of content, and our interactions. I do my best to answer questions, reply to comments, and respond to emails, and if someone leaves a comment here and has a blog of their own, I try to return the favor. (I know how much it means!)
3) I like to think I write about interesting topics that engender conversation. I love discussing interesting things with interesting people (it’s why I started an Articles Club!), and from what I can tell, this blog attracts people who feel the same way. Eventually, a flywheel effect takes hold – once you know smart and kind people are commenting, you’re more likely to check the comments, which results in more engaging comments.
4) This feels like a community because there’s no agenda. I don’t need to sell you something. You are here because you appreciate what I have to offer; because you know I do it for the enjoyment and privilege of sharing, perhaps you express your gratitude through joining the conversation.
Those are my best guesses, anyway. You tell me :)
What are your favorite blogs right now, and why?
When I open up Feedly and there’s new content, these are the subscriptions I’m happiest to see updates from:
— Cup of Jo | In my opinion, no one does it better than Joanna. Many blogs tout themselves as feeling like a conversation with your stylish and in-the-know best friend, but all of them pale in comparison to CoJ. She showcases diverse voices, excellent writing, and interesting topics – content that feels relatable, genuine, and infinitely discussable. I appreciate that I’ve discovered beloved recipes, genius parenting ideas, hidden travel destinations, and unique gift ideas from its archives, and also that it serves as a bulwark against my own confirmation bias. Reading CoJ helps me understand the motivations and perspectives of people who are different than me, and to empathize with them. On that note, I very much admire how Joanna handles her highly-engaged community – they’re fiercely passionate about everything, including her site, and she handles moderation and feedback with grace, empathy, and good humor.
— Everyday Reading | If I had to choose one blogger who is most aligned with my core values and predilections as a person and parent, it would be Janssen. We have our differences, to be sure, but she is by far the blogger who most often leaves me saying “yes!!!” after reading one of her posts. I love her focus on raising vibrant, confident, resourceful humans, and in a world of content that can often feel like the same ideas repackaged over and over, she consistently shares posts that are clever, unique, and thoughtful.
Many of you say reading EFM is like hearing from a big sister. With Janssen’s youngest of four daughters being about the same age as June, I feel the same way about her.
— Something Pretty | Lisa is a dear friend and beautiful writer. Our taste and style is similar, so I know if she’s recommending something, I’ll likely love it, too! Even though I get to chat with her in real life whenever I want, I still love reading her thoughts on faith, family, and celebration.
Honorable mentions go to Coffee + Crumbs and The Fashion Magpie! Both share beautiful essays that make me think, feel relatable, or encourage me to grow in some way.
Do you plan to write a book one day? (I think you should!)
If just one of you had sent this question in, I would have blushed and grinned and ignored it. Since four of you did, I felt like I had to include it, ha!
But really, a book?! Who do you people think I am? Ha! I know we live in an era when seemingly every content creator has an ambition to publish something, but the idea of writing a book has never occurred to me in any serious way. What would you even want me to write about?
On a more serious note, my proximity to the publishing industry in various ways (through work, and through my brother-in-law, a literary agent) has made me aware of many of its stark realities. Mainly, that to get a debut book deal (especially in the non-fiction realm), having a huge social following is almost a requirement. With stripped-down budgets and a saturated market, the publishers want you to be able to do much of the heavy lifting of publicity and driving sales.
(Note: Many of you are probably familiar with my 2021 goal to create a book for my family from the first ten years of EFM. I’m still excited about this goal, but it will be rolling to 2022, since exactly zero progress has been made, ha.)
Would you want this to be your full-time job?
Heck no. Heeeeeeeeeeeeck no. I’m not sure there’s ever been a time when I seriously considered this, but it has gotten even less appealing over time.
I love writing – crafting a beautiful sentence and shaping an idea until it comes out just right. I love teaching and sharing. I love meeting friends in the comments and learning together. I love writing about topics I find important, but that don’t, in my opinion, get enough air time. I love leading a community united around getting better every day and enjoying the beautiful world along the way.
I don’t like scouring the interwebs for shopping round-ups.
I don’t want the pressure to be on my phone and on social media at all times, posting and engaging and fighting the algorithm. I don’t want the landmine-dotted landscape that shadows every professional influencer: of never saying the “wrong” thing or not saying the “right” thing.
I don’t want to monetize a brand that’s built around my family or myself, further complicating the issue of privacy and boundaries.
I don’t want the entrepreneur life of wearing all the hats. I’d rather not have an unpredictable income.
I don’t want someone else to tell me what to write about and I don’t ever want to feel I have to compromise my opinions or convictions for the sake of making a sale.
So no, turning this blog into a job is not for me. I would love to be able to devote more time to it in the future, but only if that was possible without needing it to produce income!
How do you deal with negative people or criticism?
I’m almost scared to write this, but I have very, very rarely received negativity or criticism online (at least not that I’m aware of, ha!). In fact, I can only think of one instance, and it’s so mild it almost doesn’t bear retelling, but here it is: in one of my annual surveys, a reader rather brusquely commented that she didn’t care for me posting the yearly videos of our kids, because she thought it was oversharing.
Pretty innocuous, yes, but I think it stung because protecting our children is one of my most important jobs, and sharing about them is something I think about more than almost anything else. It’s also a lot higher stakes than something else they could have criticized, and so I’m more sensitive to the idea that I might actually be doing it wrong.
We do deal with disgruntled people at work, and I often get called in to advise since I’m known as the diplomat on our team. In those cases, I try to remember that “hurt people hurt people” and that a rude or angry comment is very rarely about you. Usually, it is both possible and satisfying to transform an ugly interaction by treating the other person as if they had good intentions – the old “killing them with kindness” idea :)
What do you think is the future of EFM? Of blogging in general? Growth versus decline?
Seven years ago (!) I wrote a post commemorating my sixth blogging anniversary. Here is part of what I wrote, including a lengthy quote from Erin Loechner (in italics):
“I know lots of people think Instagram and Pinterest have combined to sink blogs. I agree that social media has changed the way a lot of people blog, including myself. But those two platforms on their own would never make me stop blogging, because to me, blogging is an incredibly lovely – and powerful – form of storytelling. Erin Loechner worded it much more eloquently than I:
Storytelling doesn’t die… And blogging is storytelling, but with a megaphone. We’re just here, on our soapboxes, sharing what we know – the good and the bad and the mundane and the pointless and, sometimes, a few words string together in the right way and spark a life change in someone we’ve never met.
It’s good. It’s necessary. We’re cavemen, carving our stories on the walls of this Internet mountain – words and pictures and documentation that we were here. We existed.
I think about this all the time, about the kind of picture I’m carving. Is it worth it? Is it profound enough to exist in my mountain for future generations to view and question and fill in the blanks about the kind of people we were? The answer, of course, is yes. Absolutely, yes, one thousand times over… we’re telling a story that history will use to piece together the puzzles of this age. And that’s a story I want to be a part of.
Blogging won’t die, because it was never truly alive. The stories, the voices – that’s where the heart beats. And storytelling, friends, is forever.“
I love being a part of the story, and so from where I sit now, I’m in it for the long haul. Long-form content, where I can provide context and offer value, has always been where I’ve felt most comfortable. I hope I can continue writing and sharing long into my children’s childhoods and beyond. What a gift to record these years for posterity! What a gift to feel like I’m making a difference, however small, in the lives of people along the way.
As for the future of blogging in general, I’m bullish. I’ve always been bullish (obviously – it’s why I’ve kept it up all these years!), but I’m also hearing whispers in all corners about a return to and renewed focus on blogging. (Newsletters, too.) People are realizing social channels are not effective internet homes. Between frustration with the algorithm, the often illiberal landscape, the harmful effects many feel when engaging, and the realization that it could all be gone in a snap due to a hacker anyway, the love/hate relationship seems to be souring every day.
Blogging does take a lot of work. And it can feel futile and lonely if no one seems to be around to appreciate it and engage with it, without the built-in community of social media. But when it works – when writers make the effort and readers make the effort – it can be magic.
What’s your blogging “why”?
I have lived a wildly fortunate life. I know the Gospel. I come from a whole and healthy family (I also married into one). I met the love of my life in high school and we have three marvelous children. I have an education. I was raised in a rich lineage of wise, kind people. These are gifts from God, and I believe He has expectations for how I should use them (to whom much has been given, much is expected).
And so, in my own small way, I am trying to freely give away whatever I have been given. I don’t have all the answers, but I do have confidence in the decisions I make for myself and my family, and a willingness to share them. Part of my life’s work is to equip and empower women to see that they are capable, and this blog is a large part of that. (The fact that I have the ability and passion to write here is a sign to me that this is where He wants me!) Hopefully, through sharing my story, I can show you that it’s okay to live your own path kindly, purposefully, and simply, without fanfare or fluster.
In more recent years, as our world has grown increasingly polarized, it’s also my deep prayer that this place can be a reminder that what we have in common matters a lot more than how we differ.
I’d like to start a blog, but I feel like the list of what I might want to write about feels impulsive and disparate. How have you managed to stay so cohesive over time?
Though I like to joke that I never change, the fact is, I have, and so has this blog. I went from writing about weddings, fashion, and inspiration boards, with only the lightest touches of personal storytelling, to sharing about personal finance, raising kids, making a home, and a million other random topics, with lots of personal storytelling. I went from writing five times a week to four to three to my current one to two.
What has stayed consistent, I think, is my perspective and my care. And so, if you’re willing to be vulnerable and authentic as a writer, to share things that truly matter to you, those things just might matter to other people. And when your readers care about you and your perspective, they accept you and your topics changing over time. Thank you, friends, for allowing me that grace.
What advice would you give someone starting a blog now versus when you started?
My advice would be the same: do it. If it gives you half the joy it’s given me, it will be more than worth the effort.
Whew. These posts have felt a little raw and like a LOT of talking about myself. I’m glad we did this but I’m also looking forward to moving on, ha! Here’s to many more years of interesting discussions!! Up soon: our Atlanta/Florida vacation, those writing tips, Annie’s birth story, and my top tips for the fourth trimester as I close out that season in my life!
