A Life That Doesn’t Look Put Together
Picture this.
A load of towels in the washer that may or may not get rewashed when I forget to put them in the dryer. Two loads of clean laundry are exploding out of their baskets in my bedroom. Homeschool supplies tumbling out of my office closet. And bits of my son’s various hobbies litter every floor, from 3D filament strands and wood shavings to Nerf darts and Minecraft paraphernalia.
Then there’s my desk with the empty Lean Cuisine container, the stack of bills, and the drill I didn’t put away. Textbooks and homeschool curricula currently serve as shaky footrests. Our lop-eared bunnies sleep in their habitat.
The office/classroom window faces the backyard of our almost half-acre property, and I can just spy the chickens and ducks in our backyard. On a good day, I can hear the hens screeching at each other, but not this afternoon.
Today, my hard-of-hearing mother is blaring Judge Judy reruns in the next room, and I’m hiding from my bored eight-year-old. I’m overwhelmed by the thigh-high jungle of weeds in our backyard and the weedy sunflowers overtaking my kitchen garden. And there may or may not be a pile of irrigation supplies that have sat collecting dust for three months, somewhat like the workout gear lurking under my bed.
Can you see the absolute mess?
Seeking God in the Ordinary
It’s here among the weeds, the laundry, and the chaos that I’m doing my best to seek God in the ordinary, imperfect moments.
This is not a space for getting it together. You won’t find a five-step plan to improve your life. But this is a place to tell the truth about the work God is doing in a work-in-progress woman.
You’re Invited.
What does it mean to be Rooted in the Ordinary?
In Colossians 2:7, Paul tells the Colossians that those who believe in Christ are “rooted and built up in him and established in the faith.”
But what does that look like?
In Paul’s metaphor, we are the tree, and the roots are Christ. A tree can only grow and bear fruit if its roots are strong. Likewise, to strengthen our faith, it must be built upon the foundation of Jesus’ teachings.
Faith Is Not a Performance
Faith isn’t a performance. It’s not wearing the right clothes, joining the right political party, or putting on the “right” attitude. Our relationship with God is personal. It can happen in quiet, gentle moments with tendrils of understanding unfurling without spectacle.
God meets people wherever we are, whether we’re in exile, in waiting, or actively seeking meaning in our lives. He meets us at kitchen tables, in overgrown gardens, in the parking lot of McDonald’s, or in the middle of a messy house.
The ordinary places and moments are not an obstacle to faith — it’s the soil God most often uses to reach us.
An Imperfect Life, Brought Before God
I speak from experience, not an ivory tower.
My life is part-time disaster, a dash of humor, and peak chaos.
On paper, I’m a single mom who works full-time. I homeschool my son and care for my mom, who had a stroke in June. I’m also a writer and a seminary student. In the last year, our home has needed a new roof, a new AC unit, a new water heater, and repairs to the dryer. The leaking roof buckled the wood floors, so those had to be replaced.
An assortment of weird animals have chosen us as their forever family, including ducks, chickens, bunnies, and four dogs. The kitchen garden I put my heart into two years ago is dormant, except for the weeds and a single patch of lavender that has withstood the Santa Ana winds and neglect.
And I don’t concern myself about it a bit. I could choose to be disheartened—and believe me, there are moments I cry in my shower, praying for a reprieve. Instead, most days, I find my life peaceful.
Our home, our animals, my mom, and my son—they are all loved. My garden may be neglected, but it will come back with love and some dirt rubbed on it. And I will eventually get to that pile of irrigation equipment and pull those ugly weeds pretending to be sunflowers.
But that workout equipment under my bed? No promises.
This is the life I’m bringing before God — not someday, but now.
Faith isn’t a way to escape the things I dislike about my life.
It’s about growing as a person. Considering myself unfinished, raw material that is being molded into a finer shape by God.
Lucky for me, God uses the undone dishes, the mountain of responsibilities, and even my exhaustion to work on me. Tackling the most boring chore is a form of obedience. Sitting in nature is abiding with God. Cooking, working, teaching, writing, creating—these most ordinary acts are part of the process when I open myself to God’s presence.
I don’t have to make myself perfect before I bring myself before Him.
This lesson illuminated something in my perfectionist heart: God does not wait for our lives to settle down before He begins His work.
When I accepted that concept, I was able to stop striving, achieving, and seeking that unreachable thing that would finally make me happy. I found the peace in the middle of the mess, and began working on accepting both my faults and my gifts. Because guess what? God can use both my rabid need to build spreadsheets and my slapdash creativity to make a difference.
Why Rooted?
My church offers 10-week Rooted small group experiences. I had zero expectations taking the course, but it changed me. The weekly classes teach you how to grow in your faith. Bible study, prayer, serving, and more.
Of course, I didn’t leave the course a better person. I was the same mess from the first day of class to the last. Rather, the experience reawakened a desire to find my community and to grow in my biblical knowledge. I formed bonds, found a spiritual mentor, and was inspired to go back to school. I also got hooked into volunteering against my very vocal wishes. (Proof that God has a sense of humor, but that’s a story for a different day.)
Since then, I’ve said yes to serving, been called out as a leader, and I’ve been encouraged to get involved. It’s been a slow, surprising path. It hasn’t been about ambition—it’s obedience unfolding.
Rooted didn’t give me a new life — it helped me see the life God was already working in.
And that’s what inspired me to create Rooted in the Ordinary.
A Space for Imperfect Lives
This space is a place for me to reflect on my daily life in a faithful and honest way. I can be myself with you. You can expect posts about homemaking, homeschooling, parenting, creativity, and faith—both the highs and lows, the wins and fails.
What not to expect: hustle, a curated life, or spiritual pretending.
I don’t have all the answers, and you will never find me touting five steps to fix your life.
Readers are welcome to bring their own unfinished stories. Bring your unvarnished self. You don’t need to clean up your life to belong here.
”If we love one another, God abides in us and this love is perfected in us.” 1 John 4:12
Pull up a seat.
Slow down for a read. Know you aren’t alone in your unfinished projects, confusion, and loneliness.
God is present, and growth can happen in unseen, ordinary soil.
This is a space for imperfect lives, honestly lived — rooted, not rushed.