Slow Down | A Note from the Future

MOTHERHOOD, SPRING

Liam walked in the door from work recently, sauntering over for a hug and a hello. At 17 and cresting six feet in height, I find I’m the one now cradled at the chest and something aches a bit inside. He reaches for the fridge door and lightheartedly mentions a conversation at work that day, stories shared between the co-workers about childhood. You know, I was listening to everyone talk about their experiences as a kid today, he says, and realized I had the best childhood! Burke and I were a bit like Calvin and Hobbes, always playing or building something, filled with so many stories. And then he looked at me. Thank you.

I have replayed that conversation a thousand times since then, remembering how many days as a younger mother I felt doubt about my efforts or the weariness of such busy days. What if I could have seen then who they are becoming now? What might I tell my younger self all those years ago? What might my future self say to me now?

Slow down.

Motherhood is a marathon. The nuance of our work evolves with seasons and stages, of course, but the path itself requires endurance. Even the most seasoned mother needs space to slow down and recover vision and strength of soul. Even the most visionary and forward-thinking mothers can feel lost in the weeds at times.

Next week, I will be hosting the Cloistered Away Online Retreat, a space to encourage the slowness and reflection we all need for the journey. Tucked into a single weekend, the experience is a symphony of ideas, encouragement, thoughtful questions, and practical help for mothers needing it most right now. It includes guided videos with a complementing workbook for putting your ideas on paper, live group sessions on Saturday and Sunday to ask questions and discuss together, and even a private community NOT on social media to share and learn from others as we go. I would love for you to join me. Enrollment closes March 25.

Share this post:

Comments

  1. Just last night, as my 18-month-old daughter slept on my chest another night because of some allergy-related disrupted sleep, I thought about how weary I am and how I don’t want to let that weariness nudge me into merely getting through our days. I thought about the barberry bush I planted last fall, how little I worried over its growth and development, how I trusted that if I gave it water, sunshine, and enough attention to any special needs, I was guaranteed a mature barberry bush years down the road. How much more can I trust God to take my meager mothering and use it to guide my children into maturity? It was a perspective shift that you just emphasized with this post. Thank you!

    1. Author

      What a beautiful truth, Joanna. I love that this little whisper arrived even as you were holding your daughter to your heart, a picture of how you also are being held in this season. Grace to you. xx

  2. Absolutely beautiful!! Oh how my heart needed to hear this today… thank you for sharing your encouragement with us and I’m so thankful for the example you have set before us. Grateful to know you and your sweet family❤️

    1. Author

      Thank you, Rose! These little moments with my children have been such gifts of endurance and grace over the years. Sending love to you!

Leave a Comment

You May Also Like
A New Year, A Heart of Wisdom
A New Year, A Heart of Wisdom

Finding Gratitude in Hard Places
Finding Gratitude in Hard Places

Gluten-Free Carrot Cake with  Maple Cream Cheese Frosting
Gluten-Free Carrot Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting