Finding Joy in Your Home

I am deep in the part of my gardening year where I am SUPER excited… and also starting to wonder if maybe I did too much.
If you garden, you know this feeling.
January and February are all hope and seed packets and plans. Everything feels possible. And then suddenly your dining room table is covered in milk cartons and seed trays and you're counting how many varieties of peppers you started and thinking, "Oh dear."
But here's something I've learned in my still-limited gardening experience: I would rather feel like I did too much than look back in July and wish I had done more.
Because once the moment passes for the year, it's often too late to go back and start over. You have a small window to restart your pepper plants if they didn't germinate — but not much time. If you miss it, you miss it. There's no rewinding the growing season.

So this year I'm operating off one big question: What do I want my harvest to look like come mid-summer?
Not what feels easy in February.
Not what feels manageable in the moment.
But what will bless our family in July, August, and September.
Right now, it feels like a lot to take on and juggle. But I also know that 2027 Jami is going to GREATLY thank me for the work I'm putting in today as I establish a brand new garden at our new house.

What We've Started So Far
This year I'm leaning hard into what we already have and what costs the least.
In milk cartons (because they're free and we go through 4–6 gallons of milk per week 😅):
Utah Celery

Chives

Peppermint

Peppers: Anaheim chili, small red chili, cayenne, early jalapeño, and sweet pickle

Rosemary

Are milk cartons glamorous? No.
Are they free and surprisingly effective? Yes.
And when you're growing this much, free matters.

In my cell trays, I just started yesterday:
Pink Chinese celery

White Creole onions

Wild bergamot

Bee balm (Spielarten mix)

Stevia

Agastache

Echinacea

Garden huckleberries

Blackberry huckleberries

Tresca strawberries

Tomatoes: San Marzano, Caribe, and Chadwick cherry

Yarrow

Cauliflower

Every time I look at the trays I feel that little spark of excitement. Tiny green starts are such a picture of hope. It's wild to think that in just a few months these fragile little seedlings could be towering tomato plants and baskets of strawberries.
This week I still need to:
Direct sow cilantro

Direct sow broccoli

At our new house, we have one raised bed that's ready to go, so I can at least start there while we get the rest of the garden prepped.
And that brings me to the big project…

The Lasagna Garden (a.k.a. The Cardboard Situation)
This year, because of cost and because of how large I want this garden to be, we decided not to do raised beds.
For the first time, we're trying a lasagna garden.
We started by laying down cardboard to smother the grass and build up from there. I thought we had plenty of cardboard.
We did not.
Not even close.
We didn't even have half of what we need. So now we're collecting more cardboard, asking friends, saving every box, and picking up soil this weekend to start building the rows.
Right now?
It looks like a mess.
Truly. It looks like we just dumped recycling all over the yard. But I'm trusting the process. I'm reminding myself that most worthwhile things look unimpressive at the beginning.
I'm hoping that in a few weeks it starts to actually resemble a garden.

My Tasks for Next Week in the Garden
Because February energy is high and if I don't write this down, I will absolutely forget something 😅
Here's what's on the agenda for next week:
Start my next round of seeds

Direct sow everything I need to in my one raised bed outside

Finish laying down the cardboard

Have Jason pick up a soil/compost mix on Saturday with his truck

Lay down the soil and start forming the rows

Hope we get a truckload of wood chips from ChipDrop.com soon

If not… I'll probably add the $20 tip and see if that helps move us up the list.
Once the soil is down and the wood chips (hopefully!) arrive, the beds should finally start looking like an actual garden instead of a recycling center. And I think that will make everything feel more manageable. There's something about structure and visible progress that calms the overwhelm.
At that point, we'll be in such a good place: beds prepped, seeds started, direct sowing underway. That's when it really begins to feel real.
A Little Deck Garden, Too
I also have this little side mission: I want to create a small container garden on our deck.
I've been hunting for large containers that are cheap or repurposable. I refuse to pay full price for giant planters if I can help it. So I'm scanning Facebook Marketplace, keeping an eye out at thrift stores, and mentally cataloging anything that could hold soil.
Half the fun of gardening on a budget is the creativity.
Can it hold dirt?
Does it drain?
Will it survive the summer heat?
Then it's probably usable.
I love the idea of stepping out onto the deck and snipping herbs or grabbing a handful of flowers outside the kitchen door. It feels practical and beautiful at the same time.
February feels ambitious.
But it also feels hopeful.
And I'd much rather stand in the middle of "maybe I did too much" than sit in July wishing I had tried harder when the window was open.
We plant in faith.
We prepare in faith.
And we trust that the small work of today will bless our family in the months (and even years) ahead.
Here's to cardboard chaos, milk cartons, and big garden dreams. 🌱

The kids and I had the opportunity to go visit my family in Pennsylvania this past week, and I'm so incredibly glad we did.
We've been trying to schedule a trip up there for ages, and it just never seemed to work out. There was always something — a launch, a deadline, a busy season, a reason to push it off. Finally, we picked a time that worked… except Jason was just too busy to take off work.
So the kids and I went anyway.
And I'm so, so glad we did.

With the older boys getting so much older, it was actually such a fun and easy trip. An 8–9 hour drive used to feel monumental, but for us seasoned travelers, it felt like no big deal. We packed snacks, queued up audiobooks, and just went.
We stayed at my aunt's house and spent sweet time with cousins and my grandfather, who lives with them. We haven't been back to Pennsylvania since my grandmother passed away two years ago this month, so being there felt tender in a way I didn't fully expect.

There was so much snow, the kind we just don't get here in North Carolina, and the kids probably spent a dozen hours outside sledding. It was pure joy. Rosy cheeks, soaked mittens, frozen fingers, and so much fun!

We made our obligatory stop at Hershey and did the free Chocolate World tour (a must if you're ever in town), swam in their indoor pool while it snowed outside, and watched the Olympics together in the evenings. It was simple, cozy, memory-making kind of days.
And because we live on the East Coast now, this isn't a once-every-few-years kind of trip anymore. We're already talking about a summer visit!

It was exactly the kind of time away that makes you grateful… and then oddly excited to come home and settle back into your routines. It was exactly what I needed as I turn my attention to the Spring and big work and home projects.
The Blogging Goal I Didn't Hit
At the beginning of this year, I set a goal to blog at least three times per week.
I love blogging. I love long-form writing. I love the space to think clearly and share deeply.
And then the past two weeks? I didn't blog at all.
Not once.
Part of that is simply because of this trip. But the bigger reason is that we've been working on a massive system overhaul for our business. We've been moving every single one of our old products into a new system so that customers can access them easily and beautifully. It has been such a good project — the kind that blesses people long-term — but it has taken nearly all of my available work time in January and February.
Evenings. Weekends. Every spare hour. And I wasn't expecting it to be quite so large of a task.
I'm thrilled about it being finished. (And keep an eye out — we'll have a special sale this week connected to it.) But in the middle of it all, something deeper has been stirring in my heart.
What Is My Time For?
I have been praying a lot lately about my time.
My work hours are limited. I am first a wife. First a mother. My home and children and marriage are not side projects, they are my primary calling.
And yet our business matters too. It supports our family. It serves thousands of women. It is not frivolous.
But where does blogging fit?
Where does social media fit?
Where does marketing fit?
Where does being "consistent" fit?
I've increasingly felt like social media is destroying our society.
Yes, there is good to be argued for. Yes, it connects people. Yes, it can be used for truth and encouragement. But it is also fracturing our attention, shortening our focus, amplifying outrage, and shaping our thinking in ways we don't even realize.
I don't want to feel fractured.
I don't want outside voices constantly shaping the tone of our home.
I don't want my brain trained to live in 30-second bursts of noise.
And yet… I also know how hard it is when the good voices disappear. I know how lonely it can feel when encouragement dries up.
So I find myself in this tension.
If I'm honest, I would delete social media tomorrow and never look back — except that our family relies on it. It's part of how we reach women. It's part of how we sustain the business God has entrusted to us.
So I am prayerfully evaluating.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not in a "big announcement" way.
But in a quiet, steady, Lord-what-would-You-have-me-do kind of way.
What is essential?
What is noise?
What builds fruit that lasts?
What simply feeds the machine?
If You Feel Behind…
Maybe you set goals this year too.
Maybe you were going to be more consistent. More disciplined. More productive. More organized.
And maybe the past two weeks (or two months) didn't look how you imagined.
I want you to know something: falling behind on a goal is not the same thing as failing in your calling.
Sometimes faithfulness looks like sledding in the snow with your children.
Sometimes it looks like sitting with your grandfather.
Sometimes it looks like moving systems quietly behind the scenes.
Sometimes it looks like not posting.
And also sometimes, it's recognizing that God is calling you to be self-disciplined in an area you don't want to be. (Hi, that's me!)
God is not impressed by our output.
He is concerned with our obedience.
For me, right now, that means evaluating where my limited work time goes. It means asking whether my energy is being poured into what will matter five years from now, but also for the short term when there are bills to be paid and a business to be run.
I don't have all the answers yet.
But I do know this: I want my days to glorify God.
I want my home to feel peaceful.
I want my children to remember warmth and presence.
And I want whatever work I do to flow from those priorities — not compete with them.
So this is just a little life update.
A little peek behind the curtain.
A gentle reset.
I'm excited to be home.
Excited to be back in routines.
Excited to keep building good things.
And prayerfully considering what that building should look like moving forward.
Thank you for being here.
Truly.
We'll see what the Lord does next.

In a world full of Pinterest-perfect homes and constant comparison, it's easy to feel like our homemaking is never "enough." In this short and encouraging episode, Jami offers a much-needed reminder: homemaking isn't about perfection, it's about faithfulness.
She shares why social media can quietly distort our expectations, how God calls us to stewardship instead of performance, and why the quiet, repetitive work of home is deeply meaningful to Him. From folding laundry and stretching a tight budget to caring for sick kids in the middle of the night, faithfulness often looks ordinary and unseen.
If you're feeling weary, overwhelmed, or discouraged in your homemaking, this episode will gently refocus your heart on what truly matters.
🎧 Listen in and be reminded: the small, faithful work you do every day is holy work, and it matters to God.
Links and Resources:
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There are seasons when the world feels too loud. Too heavy. Too much. And often, that weight doesn't stay "out there." It follows us home. It shows up in tired bodies, overflowing sinks, loud kitchens, and hearts that feel stretched thin. In moments like that, it's easy to wonder if the quiet, repetitive work we do every day really matters.
This season, I've been thinking a lot about what it truly means to be a homemaker. Not just in the way we often picture it, but in the deeper, truer sense. Homemaking isn't limited to a job title or a particular life stage. If you are a woman, you are a homemaker. Whether you live in a dorm room, a small apartment, a house full of children, or a quiet home with just yourself, you are cultivating a space. You are shaping an atmosphere. And there are skills, habits, and a mindset worth cultivating in every season.
I remember our very first home after getting married at nineteen. It was a tiny one-bedroom apartment built sometime in the seventies, complete with mismatched wood paneling and a giant wall of floor-to-ceiling glass that made absolutely no sense for what was now considered entry-level housing. It wasn't fancy. It wasn't beautiful by design standards. But it was our first home. I was so excited to learn how to care for it, to figure out what diligence looked like in that small space, and to take ownership of the work in front of me.
That excitement has been tested many times over the years. Because the work of homemaking, especially in a full and busy household, is deeply cyclical. The dishes are never truly finished. The laundry basket never stays empty for long. Floors that were swept this morning somehow need it again by lunchtime. There are days when it feels like everything you do is immediately undone, and the question sneaks in: is this even worthwhile?
Colossians 3:23–24 has become an anchor for me in those moments. "Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ." That word "whatever" leaves very little room for exceptions. Dishes count. Diapers count. School lessons, late-night talks, scrubbing toilets, and calming big emotions all count. The work may feel small or unseen, but it is not insignificant when it is done unto the Lord.
Right now, our days are full of very ordinary things. A lot of food. A lot of dishes. A lot of schooling. A lot of cleaning on repeat. And while I know I'll one day miss the noise and closeness of having everyone under one roof, there is no denying the weight of the mundane in this season. Much of what I do will never be photographed, praised, or noticed outside these walls. And that's okay. I'm not doing it for applause. I'm doing it to love the people God has placed in my care and to create a home where peace, rest, and joy are easier to find.
When I remember that I am ultimately serving Christ, something shifts. The work doesn't magically disappear, but my posture toward it changes. I can approach it with purpose rather than resentment. With gratitude rather than defeat. Even when it's hard, I can trust that God sees every small act of faithfulness.
There are also moments when homemaking becomes ministry in very visible ways. Recently, we had one of those days where disappointment seemed to pile on all at once. After a difficult season already filled with medical expenses and uncertainty, our truck broke down unexpectedly. It felt overwhelming in that moment, like one more thing added to an already heavy load. I didn't pretend it wasn't hard, and I didn't hide my disappointment from the kids. Instead, we talked through it together. We made a plan to encourage their dad when he got home from having the truck towed. And they watched me work through discouragement with honesty and faith.
Those moments matter. Our children don't need perfection, but they do need to see what it looks like to trust the Lord in real life. They need to see repentance when we fail, humility when we fall short, and faith that is lived out, not just talked about. The home becomes a place where grace is practiced, forgiveness is modeled, and the gospel is made visible in everyday decisions.
Homemaking really is so much more than chores. The physical work matters, and we shouldn't dismiss it as unimportant. Those small, repetitive tasks make up our days and, over time, our lives. But beyond that, homemaking is a ministry. When we view our work through the lens of Christ's death and resurrection, even the most ordinary moments take on eternal weight. Washing dishes becomes an act of service. Reading bedtime stories becomes a chance to shepherd hearts. Late-night conversations with teens become sacred ground.
Still, there will always be more to do. More dust. More laundry. More reminders that we cannot keep everything perfectly in order. And the gospel meets us there too. Our worth is not found in how much we accomplish. It is not measured by the state of our homes or the length of our to-do lists. Our value is found in Christ alone.
This truth frees us. It frees us from striving for perfection and allows us to serve with joy. Christ has already done the greatest work on our behalf. Because of that, we can work diligently and rest deeply at the same time. Cooking dinner becomes an act of worship as we thank God for provision. Cleaning the bathroom can become a quiet prayer. Rocking a child in the night can remind us of the tender care God shows His own children.
Some days will still feel long. Some seasons will feel exhausting. Joy may feel distant at times. But Scripture calls us to lift our eyes and remember who we are serving. We are not just keeping house. We are serving Christ. And the gospel is not a one-time truth tucked away in the past. It is daily hope for the present. When discouragement creeps in and the work feels unseen, we can trust that our labor in the Lord is never in vain.
So when homemaking feels heavy, pause and remember the greater story you are part of. You are building more than a clean home. You are shaping a gospel legacy. The grace you extend, the prayers you whisper, and the meals you prepare all point your family toward Christ. That is kingdom work.
Keep going. Ask the Lord for strength and wisdom. Ask Him to clarify your priorities and give you peace to let go of what doesn't matter. Work diligently, rest faithfully, and trust that God is using every seed you plant. Your work is not wasted. It is seen. It is holy. And it matters.
Lord, help us to see our homes as places of ministry. Teach us to treasure the gospel in the middle of ordinary tasks and remind us that our work is not wasted when it is done for You. Give us joy in the small things and grace to serve our families with love. Amen.

I have finally — and I mean finally — been really diving into my reading goals and actually enjoying them again.
For the last few years, my reading has been a little lackluster. I've been reading far below my goals (which in and of itself is totally fine), but I was also lacking excitement and joy in my reading. I read a lot of fiction in '24–'25, but most of it was throwaway fiction that, once I finished it, I never thought about again. It didn't linger. It didn't shape me. It didn't spark anything.
When I made my reading goal for 2026 and started pulling out the book stack I wanted to read, I was honestly shocked to find books I got for last Christmas that I hadn't read yet. This is unheard of for me, because I usually devour my new Christmas books immediately. In fact, I don't think I finished a single book from last Christmas. That alone told me something needed to shift.
My goal for 2026 is to read 104 books for the year, which breaks down to two books a week. That's actually a very doable goal for me, since I've spent well over a decade cultivating the habit of reading. If you're just starting out, though, I highly recommend aiming for one book a week — or even one book every two weeks. Consistency matters far more than speed.
So for January 2026, that breaks down to ten books for the month, and I'm happy to report that I'm right on track! For me, the goal isn't really about hitting the exact number as much as it is about inspiring me to read more, put down screens, and pick up actual books again.
I'm also developing a "40 before 40" list of classics I want to read by the time I turn forty (four years from now), and I'll be sharing that list soon!
Here are a few things that have made a big difference for me this year.
First — my health is doing so much better. I've spent the past two years (but really closer to four) with lackluster health and energy. It all came to a head this last year when I had multiple rounds of kidney stones, multiple kidney infections, and the lowest energy I've ever experienced. I could barely function. I would start cleaning a room and literally have to sit down after twenty minutes to rest. Eventually, I discovered my body was literally starving for oxygen due to extremely low ferritin (iron) levels. It's been a long nine-plus months of working on this, and for the first time in years I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. I still have a ways to go, but the increased energy has been such a gift. I can read again in the evenings and find little pockets of time throughout the day — and what a joy and blessing that has been.
Second — I'm genuinely excited about my current book stack. This is absolutely essential for me. If I'm excited about what I'm picking up next, it keeps me moving forward. It also allows me to juggle dryer, heavier books because I've got something fun waiting in the wings. The last couple of years I tried to force too much reading that simply wasn't exciting me, and it made reading feel like work instead of delight. I need a good balance.
Here's what I've read in January so far.
The Family Garden Plan. I'm planning a massive garden this year and needed a refresher. I first read this book four years ago, and it was really fun to revisit it now that I have more gardening experience under my belt. It was the perfect first book for the year and got me excited all over again for this season's plans. Five stars.
Making Vegetables, Book 1. I've owned this book for over a decade and this was the first time I actually read it cover to cover. While it's not groundbreaking, I did pick up some helpful tips. Four stars.
Gut Renovation. I've been studying gut health extensively for the past two years, so I was excited about this newer release. While there were a few interesting tidbits, overall it wasn't especially helpful for where I'm at in my learning. Three stars.
Gardening for Everyone. Can you sense a theme in my reading so far? There's nothing I love more than picking a new practical subject and reading everything I can get my hands on. When I was learning to quilt, I checked out every single quilting book from the library and promptly read all of them. When I take something on, I like to do it properly — or obsessively, if you will. This is an excellent book for the home gardener. Four stars.
Harry Potter Dramatized Versions, Books 1–3. Audible is currently releasing each Harry Potter book as a full-cast audio drama. It took me a little while to get into the first one, but by the third I was fully engrossed and now I cannot wait for book four coming out in February.
Wisdom on Her Tongue. I originally had high hopes for this book, but a friend told me it was very basic and very short, so I went in with very low expectations. I think because of that, I ended up liking it more than I expected. While it is short, there were some wonderful reminders throughout, and I'll definitely read it again. Four stars.
Pride and Prejudice. Okay, don't kill me — but I have to admit I've never read a single Jane Austen book and I've never seen any of the movies. I've just never been drawn to what I assumed was a silly period romance. I do adore studying history, though, and enough people have told me I'm ridiculous that I finally gave in. I'm reading this as part of my 40 before 40 list, and while it's not my favorite book by any means, I'm enjoying it far more than I expected. Once I finish it, Jason and I are going to watch the movie (which one?!) since he read it last year. As a rule, we never watch the movie or show first if it's based on a book.
The Abolition of Man by C.S. Lewis. I've somehow never read this very short Lewis book before, but my book club is reading it this month. I'm only at the very beginning so far, so no real notes yet — but I'm looking forward to digging into it.
So tell me — what did you read in January? I've got my February reading mostly planned out, but not much beyond that yet, so give me some recommendations!