Here in the Mundane

Every weekday morning, the garbage truck comes to empty our apartment complex’s dumpster. We have the perfect view to watch the act take place from my son’s window. The sound of the truck approaching stirs something in his little body, and he makes a beeline to watch the truck’s arrival. He stands at the window, little hands and face pressed hard on the glass.

Most mornings the driver notices the little face smushed up against the window pane, and he gives the truck horn a honk and waves. When the truck finishes its duty and drives away, my son watches it go. His whole body faces its direction even when he can no longer see it. Once he’s satisfied, he crawls away onto other adventures, knowing we’ll complete this same routine all over again tomorrow.

As a stay at home mom, our life is often a replay of activities and chores with the occasional visitor or appointment. I make my son meals at the same time each day, his naps run on schedule, and his bottles are planned out. We run on monotony, and routine is our way of life. Some days we yearn for life “out there”, away from the simple and ordinary. But most days, we thrive on this simple way of life. To us, our life is a journey to be fully embraced with excitement and fervor. 

Reclaiming Excitement for the Ordinary

When I was a child in central Iowa, my heart was drawn toward the ordinary, the things people often overlooked. Old stuffed animals were friends, small trinkets were toys I used to create dance numbers and formations, and raspberries picked from my grandparents’ bush were the most divine fruit of all. Jumping across hay bales was a race to win, and camping out in the backyard was the best way to camp. But most of all, I loved rocks and the stories they told.

My rock collection began with a few specimens from my backyard. My parents were supportive of this strange hobby (bless them), and my dad ordered some fancy rocks online for me. I remember the day I received them in the mail. Each was individually marked in plastic bags—volcanic rock, sandstone, quartzite, and obsidian. There were even a few gemstones included. I bought a display case and immediately got to work at labeling them. I even got to display my rock collection at the local library for a month, which was a huge deal to me as a little collector. 

As the years went by, I completely forgot about my rock collection. My stuffed animals and little trinkets were packed away in storage. The raspberry bush was cut down and the backyard tent put away out of sight, forgotten. My excitement about ordinary things was forgotten as well. Adulthood hits, life gets busy, and we forget about this joy we experienced as children over the most mundane things. But I’ve started to walk into this excitement again by living life with my son.

Here in the Mundane

My son makes me see the world for what it could be—our very own wilderness to be explored. He is an adventurer forging his own way, a voyager setting his own sails. He never views our life as ordinary; the life he leads is one of curiosity and open-handedness.

My son’s curiosity toward life brings out the brave within me. With him, I’m able to see the opportunities in front of me for creativity and risk-taking. He helps me to see the life that exists in the ordinary. My excitement over the most ordinary of things is being reawakened. I’m seeing the opportunities in front of me in this simple, stay-at-home-mom life.

For here in the mundane, we are better able to be present in the here and now. It’s in this place of ordinary living that we are given the opportunity to stand steadfast, trusting that God has us here for a purpose.

Here in the mundane, we have the opportunity to dig deeper into what God is doing. By remaining present and fully embracing where we are, we become more aware of the ways that God is moving in our midst. He has given us this opportunity for a reason: To find ways to glorify and serve him right where we are and to become aware of his movement in our lives.

Here in the mundane, we are free to be curious about life as we know it. When life slows down, it can become monotonous and boring. But what if we looked at this slower pace as an opportunity to become curious about this world and its intricacies? A slower paced life is not boring or repetitive, it’s a place to ask questions and find answers to what we’ve always wondered about.

Here in the mundane, we can see with a greater vision, opening our eyes to the magnificence unfolding before us. When we embrace present-moment living, are aware of God’s movement and our place within it, and live curiously, our eyes are opened to the wonder that surrounds us. If our children’s eyes are opened to the beauty and awe within this world–even in something as ordinary as a rock collection or the garbage truck–why are our eyes glued shut? Let’s open our eyes to the opportunities that lay before us.

Living It Out

While I can say that adventure awaits us in these ordinary days, it’s a much different thing to truly live it out. How can we truly live as if there is excitement here in the ordinary? How can we reignite our curiosity about the world around us? Here are the ways that I am learning to thrive amongst the monotony:

I’m shifting my perspective on the ordinary.

Sometimes in life all it takes is a perspective shift to go from viewing life as boring and repetitive to exciting and unexpected. Each day I remind myself of the privilege I have to live this life in this time and place. Many others are not as blessed as I have been to be able to stay at home with my son during this pandemic. Shifting my mindset to one of feeling blessed for this life helps me to find the blessings in the mundane.

I’m choosing to remain curious about life.

My son’s curiosity about the world around him inspires me to remain curious about mine. This is an active choice each day to ask questions of God and look for his answers. It’s a choice to seek understanding while also seeking out opportunities for growth. Everyday I put on an attitude of thankfulness for these days and a spirit of curiosity, open-handedly looking at the world anew daily.

I’m exploring the world around me.

Every little thing is something to be explored. My son is showing me this truth in the way that he sits in awe of the wind blowing wildly through his hair or reaches out and tries to catch it. Exploration is in his nature, and in trying to keep up I’ve become an explorer myself. 

I’m reclaiming excitement about the ordinary.

This sense of joy toward the world was part of my being as a child, and it deserves to be a part of my being now. Choosing to be excited and expectant each morning allows us to find goodness in every single day. I’m choosing to reclaim this joy I once held by looking for adventure at each turn, remembering that the little things matter, and finding joy in these simple days.

A Life Well Lived

Monotony and repetitiveness of life does not mean we have a boring life; it means we have a life that is fully lived-in and well-refined. The repetitive nature of life refines us into people better suited for the journey. And a fully lived-in life is one that has been defined by curiosity, excitement, and exploration.

So this morning, as I watch Wesley get up from playing to crawl over to the window to greet the garbage truck, I thank God that this is our life. As repetitive and ordinary as it is, I know that these days matter. This ministry matters. And there’s freedom in choosing to show up excited, present, and wide-eyed about the opportunities in every single day. It is a privilege and this is a life well lived.

Reclaiming Joy: Looking at the World Through My Son’s Eyes

It’s become our routine of sorts, Wesley and I walking the path along the river every day. Some days we encounter no one, and we enjoy each other’s company. Other days we encounter people curious to get a glimpse of the baby in the stroller, and sometimes they speak blessings over us. 

Most days, Wesley and I stop at a bench by the river. This spot has become one of my favorites as it sits under a large tree, and it’s at just the right angle to see the river while also seeing the people walking past on the trail. 

Today, as I took Wesley out of his stroller and placed him in my lap, the wind picked up. I sat there, eyes closed and felt the gentle breeze pass over us. When I opened my eyes, Wesley was looking up at the leaves of the tree, mouth wide open in a massive grin, dimples deep as ever, with the wind blowing through his hair. I thought to myself, isn’t this what fully embracing this moment looks like?

The parts of these walks of ours that I hold close to my heart aren’t the people complimenting my cute baby or the people who light up when I greet them or when Wesley smiles at them. Instead, it’s moments like these: watching Wesley take in the world, allowing himself to experience it fully without holding back.

A Lost Sense of Wonder

When did we lose our sense of wonder toward the world? Was it when we graduated high school and stepped into our first college class? Or was it when we graduated college and entered into the “real world”? Was it when we went through our first heartbreak?

Becoming a mom has opened my heart to the ways that I am lacking in many ways. My patience is thin some days, I’m too quick to anger, and my love is often selfish. I thank God for the ways that he is transforming me in these areas, but I also thank God for revealing to me that above all of these ways that I fall short, I’ve lost my sense of wonder towards the world. Above all else, my sense of joy has left me, and I don’t know how long it’s been gone.

Just Like Children

When you and I were children, the world was full of endless opportunities. We could be whatever we wanted. We could play school in the basement for hours, jump on the trampoline until we got dizzy, eat raspberries off the bush until our fingers were red, and jump across hay bales when our parents weren’t watching. The world seemed so big and full of wonder back then.

I’m convinced that when we start seeing the world for what it really is—full of brokenness and sin—that we become more stagnant, lukewarm, and cynical. Instead of having childlike faith, we have adult-like doubt. Our questions become more pointed, looking for specific answers instead of a child’s questions that simply seek to learn more about the beauty of the world.

When I watch my son experience the world, I desire to be just like him, taking in everything for the very first time again. Experiencing the gentleness of the breeze, wind blowing through the hair, and the feeling of grass beneath the fingers brings life. It’s joy running wild, being claimed for our hearts, becoming a part of our being.

As Wesley grows and changes and becomes more joyful, fully loving every moment of his life, I’m growing and changing too. My heart yearns for this joy, this peace, this goodness grasped within the hands of my growing boy.

The question is— how do we reclaim joy? How can I have the joy that I see my little boy embodying every single day?

We have to take on the faith of a child. We have to see the world through their eyes.

As I watch my son experience the world, here are the ways that I’m learning to reclaim joy in my own life:

I’m starting to treat the little things like the big things. 

Now that Wesley is getting big enough to start communicating with me, he often does so in some fun ways. He’ll sometimes scrunch his nose or bounce up and down. The babbles are constant, and he’ll straight up scream for fun. He lets me know when he needs something, even if it’s as small as wanting a pacifier or a drink out of my water bottle that I’m using, but he always does it in an extreme way. He makes everything big. He’s just expressive that way.

I’m not saying that I’m going to start being extreme like Wesley, but I am learning to treat all the small things like they’re big just like him. Everything matters in life, and sometimes the small things are the things that give the most meaning.

I’m asking questions to seek to understand the beauty and goodness around me. 

Wesley is just so open to the world and everything in it. He takes it in with his mouth wide open and nose scrunched in the wind. I can tell that he longs to experience this beauty and he wants to know more. He encourages me to look for beauty and goodness in all things and remain curious about them. Through him, I’m learning to ask better questions, not for answers alone, but for a deeper understanding of this world and all within it.

I’m learning that it’s okay to explore and be curious about the world around me. 

Just like Wesley encourages me to seek understanding of this world, he also encourages me to explore. He is constantly on the move, exploring every nook and cranny in our apartment. He tries to squeeze behind the toilet, open cabinets, and get into the cat food. His favorite thing is crawling away from me, but looking back to make sure that I’m “chasing” him. Wesley wants to explore this world, and he is an adventurer of his own sort.

I’m starting to treat everyone like they are the only person in the room. 

If you’ve been around Wesley, you know that he loves people. The person that he is looking at is the only person that matters in that given moment. His entire face lights up, as if he’s wanting to connect with that person in some way.

This is how I aspire to be with people. I’m learning how to focus on the person right in front of me instead of always being distracted or wanting to get a word in. I want to truly listen and invest in the person that’s right in front of me, just like Wesley does.

I’m finding joy in the ordinary. 

Every morning, Wesley is thrilled about the garbage truck arriving to pick up our apartment’s trash. He speeds over to the window and watches the entire time. His eyes are peeled on the dumpster going up and down. Every single morning, the garbage truck driver acknowledges Wesley with a honk and a wave. The ordinary things like laundry, dishes, and cooking can be made joyful if we simply change our perspective about them. To Wesley, these things are full of adventure, and they’re a privilege to partake in. The way he finds joy in the simplest of things reminds me that the ordinary can be joyful if I choose to live like it is.

I’m starting to live more carefree.

Before I got pregnant, I was fairly uptight about everything. But somehow, when I was pregnant I started to feel less particular about things. Part of me feels like Wesley was having an influence on me already while he was in the womb. I’m starting to become less uptight about life, and I allow myself to have fun and be free.

A life that is lived uptight is not freedom. It is good for organization and to keep our families safe, but it is a life that is enslaved to particularity if we are not careful. I’m choosing to live more carefree and curious, fun and adventurous. While part of me will always be particular about certain things, it feels freeing to know that life can be fun when we let go of our need for control. 

I’m learning the art of trust and surrender.

Similarly to learning how to live carefree, I’m learning how to better trust God and surrender to his plans. Many aspects of motherhood caught me completely off guard. Being a mother and watching my son live so open-handedly has reminded me of my necessity for God. I cannot do anything apart from Him. Surrendering to God has lifted so much weight off of my shoulders because I don’t have to be the one making the calls. I can choose to live curiously and carefree, knowing that God has us in the palm of his hand.