Unhurried.

Last week I left work on a hot day, and arrived home to a long list.  My kids headed out to the sprinkler- and wanted to invite a friend to play too.

I had a split-second choice to make:  keep working, or drop it?  I dropped it.  The bills aren't actually due for another month, and no one cares if our house is clean anyway.

I shoved the dishes over, filled a kettle, and made iced tea instead.

A warm and lazy hour stretched out before us,  simple and stable.  I sat with a good friend while our daughters played, unexpectedly telling her things I've not dared to say to almost anyone, for fear of being misunderstood.  There were no answers or resolutions, but I was heard and she understands; that's enough.

I left that afternoon feeling light and clean, energized and ready to finish the day well.

We will be a family that pursues smallness and slowness.  We won't run from hard work.  We'll engage it with all we've got, free to obey when life's rhythms say rest.

I'm resolved.  I flatly refuse to be busy and I'm bringing my family with me.

We will live a deliberately unhurried life.  We will breathe and not suffocate.  We will work with a clear, determined will set on excellence, not quantity.

We will live alert and savor the good, wide awake and entirely free from the shadow of frantic, false productivity.

We will move motivated by our First Love, and not by fear; arms wide open, inviting you to join us.