It is enough.

It all started with the plates. We’ve been married 11 years and still had the dinnerware my husband’s parents bought for him to use at college. I was grateful we had them, and they served their purpose well but had become quite rough around the edges, and more than a few pieces had gone missing in the past 15 years. It was time to acquire new. We just happened upon a set we both fell in love with when we weren’t even looking. They are just so us.

The simple, rustic design is accentuated by the unique quality of each handcrafted piece.  So we purchased them along with new silverware (also to replace his now-incomplete set from college).

As I unpacked, washed, dried, examined, and put away every single piece, admiring the craftsmanship of each individual dish, I realized I loved them because they were earthy/modest/unembellished. They are simple, but sophisticated with understated elegance. And they are representative of the things I want in this life.

I used to want an extraordinary life. I wanted to make a BIG difference. Or I wanted to be well-known for something. Or I wanted constant excitement and entertainment, and I wanted to be different from everyone. I wanted to be exquisitely unique. I didn’t want to settle for a “regular” life, because I thought that would be boring. 

So I had a life that was different from everyone. I moved across the country and went to art school and then dropped out. I enrolled in college and took classes in every discipline to learn a variety of things and decide what I wanted to be “when I grew up.” I took my time, working to support myself because I was convinced I was independent and that taking the road less traveled was better. I got married at 22 years old and moved across the state to start life all over, a new adventureagain. And it was okay, except that I learned the more traveled road had heavier traffic for good reason. It was paved with experience from people who were older than me and knew what I’d be looking back at when I got to the age I am nowand what I’ll be looking back at in another 50 years.

I don’t regret my choices. They’ve made me who I am. There is nothing wrong with going off the beaten path instead of just taking whatever logical step seems to be the one that’s supposed to come next in life. But with quiet reflection I see there can also be comfort and richness and happiness in the traditional route. Growing up, getting married, having babies, mowing the yard, and "picking out the curtains" isn’t boring. It is life. Life is an adventure. There is joy in every step of this journey if we choose it. 

And for the next 50 years of life, I’m choosing differently than I have before. I don’t need fancy or phenomenal. I just want to simplify it all. I want just enough things in our home to get us by, but I want enough loving memories and experiences to last our family for generations. I'd rather we flourish in heart than anything else. I want early morning snuggles with my littles. I want the smell of bacon and coffee and the sound of giggles and rustling newspaper at the breakfast table. I want afternoon smiles and schoolwork and weekend camping trips. I want to kiss my hubby on his way out the door in the mornings and back in from work every evening for the rest of my life.

I want simple, and that is now what I have. It is everything. If this is all that life ever is—worshiping God, loving my family, and tending to a little home, then life is good. It is enough.