Finding Joy in Your Home

Jami Balmet

The Finding Joy in Your Home podcast exists to give you the tools, inspiration, and encouragement that you need to craft a Gospel-Centered Home (formerly called the Homemaking Foundations Podcast)! Join Jami, creator behind FindingJoyinYourHome.com, as we explore various aspects of homemaking including biblical womanhood, marriage, healthy living, organizing, cooking, and so much more! If you feel like your home is out of control - or if you ever feel overwhelmed in your role as homemaker - then join Jami each week as she stands firm on God's Word as our path to bringing glory to God and finding true joy and peace in the everyday.

  1. 30 ENE

    When the Work Feels Small: Homemaking as Kingdom Work - BLOG

    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.

    8 min
  2. 29 ENE

    My reading for January 2026, with a goal of 104 books read this year - BLOG

    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!

    7 min
  3. 24 ENE

    Welcome to My Garden Journal (and Journey) for 2026 - BLOG

    It's been two long years since I've been able to grow a garden. Life shifted in big ways during that season. We relocated to North Carolina, and for a while I didn't even have a yard, just a moving target and a lot of transition. Gardening simply wasn't possible. And while that season held good things, I missed the soil deeply. Now, though, everything has changed. We're on three-quarters of an acre. It's flat. It's usable. And my backyard is absolutely begging for a garden. Every time I look out the window, I can practically see the rows already forming in my imagination. I am all in on my garden plans this year. I'm excited… and also, if I'm honest, just a little nervous. Big dreams tend to do that to me. My Big Hairy Audacious Gardening Goal This dream didn't start this year. It began about five years ago, when a quiet idea started taking root in my heart: what if I could grow a garden big enough to truly feed my family throughout the year? Around that time, I was getting deeper into canning and food preservation. I started dreaming about walking into my backyard and harvesting dinner instead of running to the store. I began to see the value of homegrown potatoes and carrots that could last through the winter. And slowly, that dream took shape into what I now lovingly call my Big Hairy Audacious Goal: I wanted to grow a garden large enough to supply roughly 90% of the fruits and vegetables my family eats in a year. For context, our family is ten people strong… and eight of those are boys, teens,  and a mnn. This is not a small-appetite household. It sounded inspiring. It sounded noble. It also sounded completely ridiculous. Because here was the small inconvenience: at that point in my life, I had successfully gardened approximately twice. Once was in our tiny one-bedroom apartment twelve years ago, when I managed a modest collection of container plants. The second time was in California, when I planted a garden from transplants and promptly watched every single plant die in a drought. I had also tried starting seeds once. They all died too. So naturally, with this glowing résumé of gardening success, I did what I always do and decided this massive goal was absolutely achievable and that I was claiming it as my own. When Wisdom Finally Spoke Up As I've grown and matured (and learned a few things the hard way), wisdom gently tapped me on the shoulder and whispered something important: "Make sure this goal is actually doable. Don't jump in with too much, all at once." So I reframed the dream. Instead of wanting to accomplish this immediately, I gave myself a realistic runway: In ten years, I want to grow a garden large enough to produce about 90% of the produce my family eats in a year. Now that felt ambitious but attainable. Still bold. Still stretching. But grounded in patience and learning. I set that goal four years ago. And I'm happy to report that while I'm nowhere near the final destination, I am absolutely closer than I was when I started. Six more years still feels like a tight timeline for something this big—but steady progress counts for a lot. Learning One Skill at a Time I knew from the beginning that if this dream was going to become reality, it would have to grow slowly and intentionally. My first year, I went all in on learning how to start seeds. Buying plant starts would never be financially sustainable for the scale I eventually wanted, so this felt like the logical foundation. That year, I didn't worry about pests, harvesting, or even whether the garden would truly thrive. My only goal was to learn everything I possibly could about seed starting—and to do it inexpensively. And guess what? Today, seed starting feels second nature to me. What once felt overwhelming and complicated now feels routine. I'm gearing up to start multiple rounds of seeds over the next eight weeks, and it feels easy. I even managed a decent harvest that first year and learned a hundred small lessons along the way. Not bad for someone who once killed every seed she touched. The following year, I added a few new layers: expanding the garden, dedicating an entire bed to peppers (only mildly successful—note to self: start peppers much earlier), learning how to grow potatoes and onions, and experimenting with a small fall garden. And that's when I discovered that I absolutely love fall gardening. It might actually be my favorite season to grow. Then life happened. A cross-country move and baby number eight put gardening plans on pause for two full years. Not exactly part of the original timeline—but seasons have a way of doing that. And now here I am again: in a new state, in a new home, with two containers full of seeds and a wide-open backyard waiting to become something beautiful. What's New for 2026 This year brings a big first for us: we're creating an entirely new in-ground garden space measuring 20 by 25 feet. Up until now, all of my gardening has been in raised beds. I'm excited to expand more affordably into a larger footprint and experiment with a no-till gardening approach. We'll be laying down cardboard this week to begin building the soil, and I'm genuinely excited to watch this space come to life. I also have a handful of small "firsts" on my list this year: growing sweet potatoes, experimenting with luffa sponges, doing much more vertical gardening, and starting elderberry cuttings from a friend's bush—just to name a few. Some of these will go well. Some probably won't. And that's part of the joy of learning. Come Garden With Me If you've ever dreamed about growing more of your own food—or expanding what you're already doing—I'd love for you to join me this year. I'll be blogging throughout the season, sharing what I'm learning, what's working, what's flopping, and what's surprising me along the way. I'm gardening in Zone 8a, but you certainly don't need to be in the same zone to follow along and grow together. Whether you're looking for inspiration, encouragement to finally pick up a shovel, beginner-friendly guidance (I'm still far from an expert), or a place to share your own wisdom if you're a seasoned gardener—this space is for you. Welcome to my garden journal and my gardening journey for 2026. I'm so glad you're here.

    7 min
  4. 23 ENE

    Finding Joy in the Ordinary Days of Home - BLOG

    Do you ever have one of those days? The kind where you wake up already irritated, before anything has even happened. You're short on patience, easily overwhelmed, and it feels like joy is nowhere to be found. If I'm honest, when I was a young mom those days came more often than I care to admit, and I usually felt a little ashamed that my attitude could sour so quickly. But motherhood has a way of pressing on every weak spot at once. The needs are constant. The to-do list never truly ends. The house doesn't stay clean for long, sleep is often interrupted, and a quiet moment to yourself can feel like an impossible luxury. Over time, those small pressures compound, and suddenly we find ourselves moving through the day with clenched teeth instead of open hands. It's easy for the mundane rhythm of homemaking to drain the life out of us. And yet, those ordinary days don't have to rob us of joy. Joy is not something you either have or you don't. It's something that can be cultivated, practiced, and recovered, sometimes in the smallest, simplest ways. Over the years I've found a handful of steady rhythms that help reset my heart when I'm weary, irritable, or tempted to drift into complaint. They don't magically remove hard circumstances, but they do help me return to a joyful, content posture in the work God has given me. Joy often begins before the day begins How we start our morning doesn't determine everything, but it shapes more than we realize. When I wake up, I have a choice to make: I can let the mood I'm in dictate the atmosphere of the day, or I can intentionally anchor my heart before the demands start piling up. That choice isn't always easy, especially after a rough night, an early wake-up, or the anticipation of a hard day. But using the early hours well has repeatedly transformed my heart. Fill the house with worship One of the simplest habits that serves me well is turning on worship music early in the morning. It's almost automatic now: I step into the kitchen, keep the volume low so I don't wake everyone (if I'm lucky enough to be the first one up), and let truth fill the background. I love a quiet house. But I've also learned that silence doesn't always produce peace. Sometimes silence gives my thoughts too much room to spiral. Gentle worship does something different: it recenters me. It softens the edge of a tired mood. It reminds me, before I even touch the dishes or check a schedule, that God is already present. And truly, try humming a praise song while holding onto a grudge. It's surprisingly difficult. Open the Bible (even if it's not "perfect") This may sound obvious, but it's obvious because it's foundational: there is nothing more steadying than opening God's Word before the day opens you. If you're in the thick of little-kid years, your Bible time may not look like deep study with color-coded notes and uninterrupted quiet. Mine often doesn't. Some mornings I'm simply following a basic reading plan and reading a short devotional. Some mornings I get a few quiet minutes. Other mornings my Bible is open on my lap while little ones climb around my feet. But lately, as my littlest one is 16 months old, I've been cultivating the quiet, steady rhythm of getting up before my kids, coffee in hand, and quietly reading my Bible and praying. This practice never returns void, even if I do get tired in the afternoon! But the Lord uses imperfect, interrupted time. If all you can manage today is a few verses, that is still enough to reset your mind and help you walk into the day with more clarity and hope than you had five minutes earlier. Practice gratitude until your heart catches up Gratitude isn't a trendy idea, it's a spiritual discipline. It's one of the simplest ways to pull your focus off your frustration and place it back where it belongs: on the goodness of God. In my morning prayer journal, I write down two specific things I'm thankful for every day. Two. Not ten. Not a beautifully worded paragraph. Just two gifts from the Lord, especially on mornings when I don't feel like doing it. And here's what I've found: the moments it's hardest to name blessings are usually the moments I need to do it most. I'm always surprised how quickly my mood begins to shift once I start. Two blessings often turn into five. And suddenly my heart feels lighter—not because the work disappeared, but because my perspective did. Finding joy in the mundane work of homekeeping Let's be honest: cleaning is not thrilling. It just isn't, especially in an active home where messes multiply faster than you can catch up. But "not fun" doesn't mean "not meaningful." Part of being a keeper of the home is doing ordinary work faithfully. The goal isn't to pretend those tasks are exciting; it's to learn how to do them with a better spirit and a bigger purpose. Here are a few practices that have helped me keep a joyful heart while doing repetitive work. Pray over your home while you care for it When was the last time you prayed over your home, not just in general, but specifically? One of the most powerful shifts I've made is praying over the rooms of our house while I clean them. I'll pray for what happens there and for the people who live under our roof. This matters because I've noticed something about myself: when my hands are busy, my thoughts can get dark if I'm not intentional. Cleaning can become the time I replay frustrations, stew over annoyances, or spiral into negativity. Prayer redirects that space. If you're in the bathroom and potty training is testing your patience, pray for that child and for wisdom. If you're in the kitchen, pray over meals and conversations. If you're in the living room, pray that your home would be a place of peace and kindness. Praying this way doesn't just change my heart. It often changes the atmosphere of the home itself. Listen to something that strengthens you Just like worship music helps in the morning, encouragement helps in the middle of the day. I love listening to podcasts or sermons while I cook dinner or do chores, especially in the late afternoon when my energy is low and I'm tempted to coast in irritation. There's something restoring about letting your mind take in truth and encouragement while your body does ordinary work. It "fills your cup" in a practical way. It reminds you that the work you're doing matters, and that you're not alone in it. Make a simple plan for the day I love a good to-do list. It helps me feel grounded and purposeful. But I've also learned that the quickest way to discourage myself is to write a list that assumes I'm living in a silent, uninterrupted world. In my busiest seasons, I can realistically complete about five meaningful tasks in a day, sometimes less. So I keep the plan simple: a short list and a flexible timeline. I often write it the night before, not because I'm trying to be rigid, but because there is freedom in waking up with direction. When I don't make a plan, I'm much more likely to drift into chaos. I'll find myself slumped on the couch mid-morning while the kids are unraveling, and then I feel defeated before the day is even half over. But when I have a gentle plan, everything seems to run a little smoother, even when interruptions come. Joy also requires room for delight Sometimes we lose joy at home not because there's too much work, but because there's too little fun. When was the last time you got down on the floor with your kids and played? When was the last time you laughed, really laughed, in the middle of an ordinary day? There will always be more work to do. But if we never stop to enjoy the people we are caring for, we will slowly begin to resent the work itself. A home is not meant to be managed like a machine; it's meant to be lived in with love. This is where your plan can either serve you or enslave you. A plan is a blessing, but it shouldn't become the mountain you're willing to die on. Racing through your to-do list while ignoring your family is not the measure of success. Sometimes the most faithful choice is setting the list down to pull out Play-Doh, read a book, sit close, listen, and laugh. Those moments are not "wasted time." They are part of building a joyful home. And don't forget your husband in this, either. Homemaking isn't only about managing tasks, it's about nurturing relationships. Make room for fun with him too, whether that's an at-home date night, a walk together, or time out of the house. Joy grows where connection is protected. Ordinary days are where joy is formed Most homemaking is not made up of highlight moments. It's made up of ordinary ones: meals, messes, interruptions, and the steady, faithful work of loving people. And by God's grace, those ordinary days can become the very place where joy takes root. Not because every day feels easy, but because joy isn't dependent on ease. It's cultivated by truth, gratitude, prayer, worship, wise planning, and intentional delight. One small practice at a time, God can reshape our attitude and restore our contentment, right in the middle of the work. If today is one of "those days," you're not alone. Start small. Choose one way to re-center your heart. And ask the Lord to meet you in the ordinary. He does.

    10 min
  5. 19 ENE

    What a "Good Homemaker" Really Is (and What She Isn't) - BLOG

    Homemaking Is Bigger Than a Job Title When most people hear the word homemaker, they picture one specific life: a stay-at-home mom, in an apron, with dinner simmering and a spotless house to match. And if that's your life right now, I hope you feel encouraged in it (this is my life, more or less with the spotless house). But if that's not your life, if you work outside the home, if you're a student, if you live with your parents, if you're single, if you're caring for aging family members, if your season feels anything but neat and tidy—I want you to stay with me. Because homemaking is not a modern job description. It's a calling of stewardship, love, and spiritual formation that looks different in different seasons. And the sooner we stop treating homemaking like a narrow label, the sooner we can actually live it with freedom, clarity, and joy. I didn't grow up training for home I got married at nineteen, which still makes me laugh because I truly didn't see that coming. I wasn't raised in a culture that was telling me to marry young. I was the typical public school kid: college plans, big ideas, and a quiet assumption that "real life" would begin after a degree. But then God wrote a different story. I met Jason when I was sixteen, we started dating when I was seventeen, and I was married before I ever felt remotely "prepared." And to be honest? I had almost no homemaking skills. Okay no, actually zero homemaking skills. I didn't know how to cook. I didn't know how to manage a home. I barely knew how to do my own laundry, and I certainly wasn't walking into marriage with some kind of mental framework for how a household runs. There wasn't a built-in "curriculum" for real life skills where I grew up, and I know I'm not alone in that. A lot of millennials were well-trained to take tests, write papers, get into college… and then suddenly found themselves staring at adulthood thinking, Wait—how do I feed people every day? How do I budget? How do I keep a home from slowly falling apart? So those early years of my blog (back when it was The Young Wife's Guide) and the earliest days of the podcast were really me working this out in real time. I was trying to answer basic but weighty questions: What does it mean to care for a family? What is a wife responsible for? What does a biblical vision of home even look like when both spouses are working and in school full-time, as we were? How do you build a life that honors God when you don't feel naturally gifted at managing the practical side of a household? I didn't have this figured out when I started. I was learning while I lived it. Homemaking is a calling for women in every season Here's my "controversial" take, and I'll say it plainly: if you are a woman, you are a homemaker. Not because every woman is called to the exact same routine, or because every woman's life will look like mine, or because your worth is somehow tied to whether you are home full-time. But because God has designed women with a particular bent toward nurture, care, and cultivation and He places us, in every season, in spheres where that calling is meant to show up. For some women, home right now is a house filled with children. For others, it's a small apartment. For others, it's a dorm room. For some, it's their parents' home. For some, it's a home shared with roommates. For some, it's a season of caring for grandparents or aging parents. For some, it's juggling several of these and being in a place you really don't want to be but God is calling you to be faithful in none-the-less. But in every one of those scenarios, God has given you a "home base" and a set of relationships, whether that's family, roommates, church community, neighbors, coworkers, or friends, that you have the privilege of loving well. Homemaking, at its heart, is using what God has entrusted to you to cultivate a place where people are cared for, where peace is pursued, where love is practiced, and where Christ is honored. That's why Scripture's call in Titus 2 isn't framed as a lifestyle aesthetic. It's about character and love: loving family, being self-controlled, being kind, and being a keeper of the home. That doesn't box women into one rigid shape; it gives women a direction. We have to stop shrinking homemaking down to chores One of the biggest misunderstandings about homemaking is that it's mainly about tasks: dishes, dusting, laundry, meals, organization. And yes, those things matter. A home can't function well if it's chronically chaotic. It's hard to feel peace when your environment is stressful and neglected. But homemaking is not defined by whether your counters are clear at 7:00 p.m. It's also not defined by how crafty you are, how beautiful your meals look, whether you make sourdough, whether your home resembles a magazine spread, or whether your systems are color-coded and Pinterest-perfect (or Instagram-perfect, since that's the modern version). A home is not a performance. Homemaking is about building a place of peace for your family and cultivating Christlikeness in the middle of a loud, chaotic world. And right now, the world is loud. Many of us feel that heaviness: news cycles, cultural confusion, fear about the future, the sense that everything is fragile and uncertain. You cannot control all of that. But you can shape the atmosphere of your home. You can turn whatever "four walls" God has given you into a haven: imperfect, lived-in, sometimes noisy, often messy, but oriented toward what is good and true. You can build a home where people walk in and feel warmth. Not because everything is spotless, but because love lives there. The goal isn't perfection: The goal is a home that nurtures hearts I want to be careful here, because whenever we talk about peaceful homes, it can sound like I'm describing a quiet, angelic household where children never argue and moms never lose patience. That's not real life. I have eight kids. We homeschool. We are together a lot. My home is not peaceful all the time. We have days where I think, It is disgusting in here, and we have days where we have to stop and address attitudes, kindness, tone, how we speak to one another. There are big feelings, real conflicts, and regular opportunities for sanctification. So when I say homemaking is about creating peace, I don't mean creating a fake version of peace. I mean pursuing the kind of peace that is rooted in Christ: order where we can, gentleness where we should, repentance when we fail, and grace in the middle of it all. And that's why I don't think a good homemaker can be measured by a checklist. Because faithfulness to the Lord has never been a simple checklist, either. Still, when I boil it down, I come back to three markers that matter far more than aesthetics: A good homemaker keeps her eyes fixed on Christ daily. She intentionally sets priorities that honor God. And she builds a home that nurtures her family's hearts, not just their stomachs. That last part is where things get practical in a way we don't always expect. Sometimes nurturing hearts means you leave the dishes for later and take a walk with your kids. Sometimes it means you do the opposite, saying no to distractions because your home needs attention and your family needs the stability of order. Wisdom is knowing which one matters today. There is a tension we all have to learn to navigate. Some of us grew up under pressure to keep a perfect house, so we swing hard in the other direction and tell ourselves mess doesn't matter at all. But God doesn't call us to either extreme. He calls us to stewardship and love, with discernment. There's a line I've repeated for years because it helps me recalibrate: the home needs to be clean enough to serve the family, but not so clean that the family is serving the house. That's the balance. And it looks different in every household. Proverbs 31 isn't a checklist, it's a portrait Whenever homemaking comes up, Proverbs 31 comes up too, and I think it's important to read it the right way. That passage isn't meant to crush you under an impossible standard where every woman needs to buy a field, wake before dawn, sew clothing, and run multiple businesses while making organic bread from scratch. It's not a checklist; it's a portrait. It shows the heart of a woman who serves her household with joy, wisdom, and strength rooted in the Lord. Her work is meaningful because it's anchored in fear of the Lord, not in human applause. And yes, her situation included resources that many of us don't have. But what stands out is not that she had help, it's that she was diligent, intentional, and joyful in serving the good of her household. If your circumstances were different, your Proverbs 31 would look different too. The particulars change. The heart does not. Choosing joy is not denial, it's discipleship One of the most honest parts of homemaking is admitting that the work is often repetitive, sometimes exhausting, and occasionally overwhelming. Even when you love your family deeply, there are weeks where you feel like you're dragging yourself through the basics. Recently I had a week like that. We were dealing with sickness, patience was thin, and everything felt harder than it needed to. And I realized something simple but important: I needed to choose joy on purpose. Not the fake joy of pretending things are fine. Not the shallow joy of ignoring real problems. But the rooted joy of saying, Lord, today might be hard, but help me be faithful in it. Help me serve with gladness. Help me love the people in front of me. I sat my kids down and told them plainly that I'd been struggling. And then I told them what we were going to do about it: we were going to choose joy, tackle our work with diligence, and move forward with a different spirit. That's homemaking, too. Not just the meals and the laundry, but the spiritual tone in your home. The willingness to repent when you've been short-te

    12 min
  6. 16 ENE

    How We Built a Simple Food System That Taught Our Kids Real Skills (and Took Pressure Off Me) - BLOG

    We've started a new system in our home the last couple of years and it's been one of those changes that quietly ends up touching everything. It's not flashy. It's not complicated. But it's steady, practical, and surprisingly life-giving. Each of our kids is now trained on one special food that they're fully responsible for making each week. They are not helping me make it. They are not reminding me to get around to it. They make it. Here's what that looks like in our house right now: Malachi (13) makes 2 gallons of kombucha each week Micah (13) makes a huge batch of crockpot granola Remington (10) makes 1–2 gallons of yogurt each week Ryder (10) makes 1–2 sandwich loaves in the breadmaker Magnolia (almost 9) keeps us stocked with muffins, brownies, cookies, and other healthy treats that supplement meals Mom (36) makes ½ gallon of kefir daily and is slowly working toward a full gallon It's become this beautiful rhythm where food is coming from many hands instead of just one  and everyone feels invested in what they're making. But this didn't start as some grand household system or perfectly thought-out plan. It started with kombucha. The Lightbulb Moment Malachi kept begging me every week to make a fresh batch of kombucha. The problem was… kombucha can easily sit and ferment away, and with everything else going on in our house, I was usually only getting to it every couple of weeks. He loved it so much and honestly, it's so good for you that I wanted the whole family drinking it more consistently. One day it finally clicked. This kid was highly motivated to drink it. He had already helped me make it plenty of times. He understood the process. So I turned to him and said, "What if I train you how to make it completely by yourself? Then you can just make it every week and it doesn't depend on me." His face lit up. He thought that was a brilliant idea. So we trained together. I slowly stepped back. And before long, he owned it. The very next day, Micah wandered in asking when we were going to make more granola. And I had another lightbulb moment. BOOM. Now he has a weekly task too and he's thrilled because granola magically appears whenever he wants it. Once that door opened, it just kept unfolding naturally. Why This System Has Worked So Well for Our Family 1. Motivation is built in. Each child is responsible for something they genuinely love to eat. They're not being assigned random chores that feel disconnected from their life (although they are assigned plenty of those as well)! They're contributing in a way that directly blesses them and the whole family. Ownership changes everything. When kids care about the outcome, they're willing to practice, troubleshoot, and keep improving. 2. Training once saves energy forever. Yes — training takes time upfront. There are messes. There are mistakes. There are moments where it would absolutely be faster to just do it yourself. But once the skill is learned, it multiplies. Instead of me personally making all of these foods week after week for years, the responsibility now lives in the household. That's not just helpful today. That's shaping capable adults. 3. It supports how we actually eat. We eat a lot of simple, from-scratch foods. My daily focus is often on getting beans cooking, managing dinner in the Instant Pot, and keeping the core meals moving forward. We love having things like granola, yogurt, bread, kombucha, and baked treats, but realistically, I couldn't keep up with making all of it myself every single week. This system allows everyone to enjoy the foods they love without piling more work onto one person. It's truly a win-win-win: The kids get ownership and pride in their work. Our home stays well-fed with nourishing food. My mental and physical workload is lighter. 4. Skills compound faster than you expect. Once kids learn how to measure, follow steps, manage time, clean up after themselves, and problem-solve when something doesn't turn out quite right,  everything else becomes easier to teach. And in turn, the siblings can then teach eachother! Cooking stops feeling intimidating and starts feeling familiar. Confidence grows quietly, one batch at a time. What Training Actually Looks Like in Real Life Training isn't formal lessons or rigid systems in our house. It looks like: Cooking alongside them at first Talking through each step Explaining why we do things a certain way Letting them try Letting them mess up Slowly stepping back At first I'm very hands-on. Then I'm coaching from the side. Eventually, I'm just nearby if questions pop up. And then one day you realize… they've got it. If This Feels Intimidating — You're Not Alone If the idea of teaching your kids to cook feels overwhelming, I understand that deeply. Many of us didn't grow up learning these skills ourselves. We're figuring it out as we go. Sometimes the kitchen already feels like survival mode. So start small. It might be just one food, one child, one new skill! Let confidence build naturally. You don't need perfection, you need consistency and patience. Why This Matters Beyond Food This isn't really about kombucha or bread or muffins. It's about: Raising capable kids Sharing responsibility inside the home Teaching stewardship Building rhythms that support family life instead of draining it Giving children meaningful ways to contribute These small systems shape a household culture over time. If you've ever wished your kids could help more in the kitchen, this is your invitation to start. Small steps. Real skills. Big payoff over time.

    6 min
  7. 15 ENE

    Kids in the Kitchen: What I Teach at Each Age (and Why It Matters So Much to Me) - BLOG

    I grew up in the 90s with divorced parents who both worked full time and did their best to provide in two separate households. My mom was a rockstar. Our house was always clean, and she never failed to have dinner on the table, even when it was simple. But in the 90s and early 2000s, it just wasn't on anyone's radar, at least not ours, that kids should be learning homemaking skills along the way. I was busy with high school, working, and getting into a good college on scholarship. It honestly never crossed my mind that there were important home skills I was missing. Fast forward to getting married… and I had zero cooking or kitchen management skills. I didn't know how to grocery shop well. I didn't know how to plan meals. I didn't know how to cook anything. It was a steep uphill learning curve. Over the years, though, something shifted. I absolutely fell in love with cooking. And now, somehow,  I've written five cookbooks (something newlywed Jami never could have dreamed of). But here's the thing: I want something different for my kids. I don't want food to feel like a constant uphill battle when they become adults. I want them to be confident in the kitchen. I want them to know how to feed themselves and others well. And honestly? The kids have a TON of fun doing it. If you're ever looking for ways to keep kids busy without screens, teach them how to cook and let them whip up treats whenever they like. It's one of the best investments you can make. Why Kids Have Always Been in My Kitchen Inviting my children into the kitchen has always felt very natural to me. I love being in the kitchen experimenting, baking, and creating. So what do you do when you've got a 1-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a 5-year-old who just want to be wherever you are? You hand them a spatula, a spoon, a few chocolate chips and let them "cook" right alongside you. You invite them into the good work set before you. Whenever I post about cooking with my kids or them learning new kitchen skills, I get asked, without fail, "How do you actually do this?" What's age-appropriate? How do you manage the mess? Is it safe? So let me share what this has looked like in our home, age by age. 👶 Toddlers (1–3 years old) At this age, the goal is simple: invite them into the work. Yes, it's messier. Yes, it takes longer. No, I don't say yes every single time. But whenever possible, I invite them into the kitchen with me. I'll hand them a measuring cup and gently guide their hands as they dump flour into the bowl. They throw berries into batter. They hold the salt until it's time to pour. They stir and sample far more than they help. 😉 And here's my secret trick for the days when you really just need dinner done: Set them up next to you with their own little station. A small bowl. A spoon. A little flour. A few chocolate chips. Let them mix up their own delightful creation while you get the real cooking done. Everyone feels included — and you still get dinner on the table. [caption id="attachment_24076" align="alignnone" width="700"] I looked away for a moment too long and this guy poured flour all over himself. Oh well![/caption] 🧒 Preschool / Early Elementary (4–7 years old) This is where the real fun begins. When you invite toddlers into the kitchen consistently, they pick up far more than you realize. By ages 4–5, kids are genuinely capable helpers. They can: Run to the fridge to grab eggs Measure out oil or water Mix ingredients Help pour Roll out dough They will still make messes, probably a lot of them, but little by little the spills decrease and their confidence grows. My son Maverick (age 5) has been helping me in the kitchen since he was about one. Just this past week, I started teaching him how to make his own eggs on the stove. He did about 95% of it himself while I instructed. The second time, I stayed nearby while he led the steps. In another week or so, he'll likely be able to make his own eggs start to finish. This age is perfect for learning how to crack eggs, measure, pour, stir, and roll out dough. They won't be making full meals on their own yet — but you are laying the groundwork for lifelong skills. And as a homeschool mom, I'll just say this: one of the best ways to learn fractions is by measuring ingredients. 👦 Older Elementary (8–11 years old) This is when kids can start taking ownership of full recipes. My daughter (almost 9) makes a recipe completely on her own at least 3–4 times a week. Yesterday she made snickerdoodles. Today she made brownies. When she was 6–7, she cooked alongside me. I explained why we did certain steps. Slowly, I let her start reading recipes, gathering ingredients, and thinking through the process. Over time, she needed less and less help. Now she mostly comes to me only if she has questions or needs clarification, but she's capable of making a lot on her own. Her older brothers (10–13) can also make quite a bit independently. Their training now focuses on more advanced skills like cheesecake, apple pie, soup stock, and all the bread. This isn't formal "lessons." It's simply teaching as we cook together. If you have kids over 8–9 years old — start teaching them full recipes. They truly can do it. 🧑‍🍳 Teens My next step with our older boys will be teaching them how to: Plan full menus Build grocery lists Manage multiple dishes at once Think through timing and budgeting They'll take the foundation they've built and begin managing the full process of feeding a household. This is real life preparation. 🔥 Safety (Because Everyone Asks) Kids absolutely need to learn how to handle real kitchen tools, appropriately and gradually. My toddlers are watched constantly and never near knives or hot stoves. But my 5-year-old is learning basic knife skills and how to cook eggs on a skillet with supervision. Could he nick a finger or get a small burn? Possibly. We minimize risk as much as we reasonably can — but learning always involves some risk, just like riding bikes or rollerblading. A small mistake often teaches caution faster than a lecture ever could. Use wisdom. Supervise closely. Build skills slowly. Trust your instincts. Why This Matters So Much to Me I didn't grow up learning these skills. I had to learn them as an adult, the hard way. I want my kids to step into adulthood confident, capable, and joyful in the kitchen. I want them to bless their future families and communities through hospitality and practical skill. And honestly? I just love watching their confidence grow. Mess fades. Skills remain. Memories multiply. If You're Nervous to Start Start small. Let them stir. Let them pour. Let them crack eggs. Let them "cook" beside you. It will be slower at first. It will be messier at first. It will be imperfect at first. But it will be worth it. You're not just making food — you're forming capable humans.

    7 min

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The Finding Joy in Your Home podcast exists to give you the tools, inspiration, and encouragement that you need to craft a Gospel-Centered Home (formerly called the Homemaking Foundations Podcast)! Join Jami, creator behind FindingJoyinYourHome.com, as we explore various aspects of homemaking including biblical womanhood, marriage, healthy living, organizing, cooking, and so much more! If you feel like your home is out of control - or if you ever feel overwhelmed in your role as homemaker - then join Jami each week as she stands firm on God's Word as our path to bringing glory to God and finding true joy and peace in the everyday.

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