Autumn · October
The complete archive of Melissa Whitaker's essays and reflections on LDS Family Life, organized around family discipleship, honest motherhood, marriage, faith at home, and the home rhythms that shape a family over time. Showing older posts, page 16.
Practical essays on prayer, scripture study, Sabbath patterns, and building a faithful home culture in ordinary life.
First-person reflections on parenting, emotional honesty, family fatigue, closeness, and raising children without performance.
Home notes on homemaking, hospitality, steadiness, and the spiritual texture of ordinary family routines.
Essays
July 6
I sat on the floor in the hallway outside the Primary room with my son. It was not the kind of church moment I had imagined, but it was a holy moment anyway.
July 6
I found a half-eaten goldfish cracker stuck to the cover of the Book of Mormon this morning. The sacred mess is real, and it is enough.
June 28
I put an empty mason jar on the kitchen counter and my kids filled it with everything from porch cats to bathroom complaints. The family council changed.
June 28
The candle was a gift I never lit. It sat on the kitchen windowsill for months, a vanilla and sandalwood thing that looked nice and did nothing else.
June 28
I found a dried piece of macaroni under the couch cushion yesterday. It had been there long enough that the cheese had turned into a fossil.
June 28
I was folding laundry at ten o'clock at night and the house was finally quiet. The toddler had gone down after three stories and a cup of water.
June 27
I found a blue crayon mark on the kitchen table this morning. A single line pressed hard enough that the wax is still there after I wiped it down.
June 27
I was standing in the kitchen on a Saturday evening with a dish towel in my hand. I was planning the Sunday the way I plan a work week.
June 27
The toddler dumped an entire box of Cheerios on the kitchen floor while I was trying to say the blessing on the food.
June 27
I was halfway through vacuuming the living room when I heard the knock. The rug was half done.