Made for this

I want slow mornings, bread rising in the oven, little feet padding across the floor, a Bible open beside my coffee. I want to home school my children at the kitchen table with crayons and scripture, to teach them about fractions and forgiveness in the same breath, to let wonder lead the way. I want to be the wife who lights candles at dinner, who greets him at the door with joy in her eyes and flour still on her hands. I want worship music to fill the corners of our home, to raise children who know what it feels like to dance with joy and cry in prayer without shame. I want a life rooted in presence, in purpose, in love that doesn’t hurry. Not perfect just real, just ours, just holy in the quiet kind of way most people miss.