Sons, nephews, grandsons, boys live in our homes. As much as the world is beating down on our daughters with lies about the subjugation of women, the oppression of homemaking, and that fulfillment can only be found in working a job outside your home, they’re also beating down on our men. Sometimes subtly and sometimes loudly.

Orderly, wild, intimate. Umbrellas bring these three aesthetics to mind. They’re much like home, like a little piece of home you carry with you when the weather is wetter than normal. A bit of order, a pinch of chaos, and a nestling in close. Homemaking is about our heart-ability to manage the order, chaos, and intimacy of our hearths, to tend our hearths. Its breadth of options is often overwhelming. We want to truncate it or limit it so that we can check off all the boxes and know we did a good job. But the real limits of homemaking are beyond our sight because homemaking is an attitude before it’s an action.

If femininity isn’t defined strictly, what if I’m not being feminine? Welcome to freedom. Freedom is a heart matter. Freedom requires you to judge yourself and not your neighbor, and oh how we hate this. We would so much rather not judge ourselves and gleefully judge our neighbor.

Freedom says you make your home according to your husband’s leading, coupled with your gifts, sensibilities, and tastes, within the bounds of providence.

It’s so easy to slip into feeling judged and then back-pedal on what you believe to relieve that sense of judgment. It’s so easy to say what you think people want to hear, so that you don’t have to deal with conflict.

From the floors to the seats, to the displays, closets, clothes, to the organization, to the plants, dishes, tools, and everything else, we should seek beauty, use beauty, create beauty. Not because it is forever beauty, but because God thinks temporary beauty is important and He has given us things to richly enjoy. We may live our lives here below the sun, but we have an above the sun attitude. We know it is temporary, but because we do it to glorify God, it takes on an element of the eternal.

Holidays break routines. This is a good thing. Broken routines don’t become ruts. Holidays help you see the routine. Holidays give you a break from the routine which helps you appreciate it more. Don’t we all just love January when things get back to normal? Holidays help us appreciate the normal by charging into the middle of it and making a mess. As HearthKeepers, if we see this we can appreciate it, embrace it, and use it.

Attitude change: how about being thankful for a morning that starts with simple things? Take the quiet as a sign that your family is well, fed, and off to face the day. You never know when you might wake up and spend your whole day, or several days, in a hospital watching the people you love face major health issues.

Struggles abound in this work. Thistles and thorns scratch our hands, rip our clothes, destroy what we have built. That too starts in our hearts and minds and can diffuse like smog, like killing gas, into our homes, choking, blinding, breaking. Calm may evade us. Anxieties haunt us in the night and join hands with the siren song of complaining during the day. We have eyes only for what is demanded of us and never for what has been done for us. A world never at rest weighs us down, and all we see is work, work, work, and never the seasons, never the hymns, never the slumber.

Whatever your heart song is, I believe it will point you back to your hearth and with such diversity as to enrich our world. Our diversity is a gift as much as our heart songs. The rich tapestry of our interwoven lives is one of the great beauties of God’s creation. We’re all similar and all different.

We’re all in a fight against sin and what may outwardly appear all the same, may inwardly be sinful or may not. Stay in the fight. Dishes have to be done, but they can be done with grace, love, and humility or pride, complaining, and laziness. Only you and the Lord know where your heart is. 

The world tells women to band together, that we’re a sisterhood, that we should go out and change the world, abandoning our homes before we’re relegated to only kitchen and nursery work, but reality tells me that the most amazing women I know are busy in their homes. This is sisterhood. This is where we bloom. It is here that we have flexibility.