It's one of my funniest things I've ever lived.
I went through a season when I lived in Seattle where I really felt like I needed to make every single thing from scratch to be a worthy woman. I wouldn't have judged you if you didn't - but if you could make it, I tried. Bread, laundry detergent, sauces, salad dressing, yogurt, jam, dish soap, baby food, peanut butter and honestly - even butter.
I don't think it's wrong to make your own stuff, but if you met me, you'd laugh at the notion of me doing it. And honestly, in that season - it was just an endeavor that was consumed with pride and self promotion and an ideal that I was trying to achieve. And I had some friends whose hearts probably WERE in the right place and we all shared our recipes! Applesauce! Bread! Detergent! Hummus!
It was a fun season. And I'd like to reiterate - my heart gross, theirs not.
But the funny, funny story was when one day we were all sharing our recipes on a long facebook thread. I don't remember what homemade endeavor we were going for, but my friend Kim busted up in on the conversation and trumped us all. She said,
"ladies - what are we going to try to make from scratch next? are we going to start whittling our own tampons?!"
I still laugh when I think about that. And I think her funniness jarred me from crazy long enough to start buying my yogurt again.
And time has passed and I've stopped making all the stuff.
Shoot ya'll, it's been a few months since I've even made homemade pizza.
Jessi from a few years ago would shudder to know that Jessi of today throws a california pizza kitchen frozen baby in her cart each week. But times change, you know?
And I told everybody yesterday - I've gotten a little caught up and lost my way a little.
I've made shortcuts in real life to pursue life online.
Some shortcuts ok, some not.
This past weekend, I was feeling this pull to just be in real life.
I was actually feeling a massive conviction well to the surface and demand me attention.
Soak my eyes and my heart and my hopes and my dreams
into the four walls around me.
Into the street I live on.
Into the six eyes that look at me every day, waiting for instruction.
Into my church body.
Into my neighbor.
And then, with the leftovers of my energy and time - into life online.
And there's fear - you know? To step away from the fast pace world of online and know you're going to miss out and you're going to be behind. You might miss emails, connections, deadlines, expectations, and conversations.
But what I've found is that when it's Saturday morning and you sit with your three kids on the kitchen counter and your food processor whirring, you don't care so much about what you're missing. Because you're right where you're supposed to be.
So I dare you, go make some butter. Or do a craft. Or build a fort.
With you best friends or your husband or your kids.
Do something without instagramming it or researching pinterest.
I dare you.
Get elbow deep in real life - not to show off your skills or
reach some sort of woman-tally. But just to get in the faces of those
who are right there in front of you, and bless them.
Heat up some bread in the oven.
Smother it with (figurative or literal) homemade honey butter.
Giggle with them and share another piece.
You're not missing anything.
You're not missing anything.