Building a Foundation of Stone

When you need to go back to basics

Dear friend,

Back in January I shared our focus for the year here on our homestead: stewardship. After three years of living on our property, we were preparing to make head way on some long-conceived projects. And while progress is happening, it’s resonating a lot further than just homesteading projects.

When I started this Substack a little over a year ago, I thought I’d focus on the growth of a fiber farm, share my fiber projects, and invite you all along on the ride. Then I wanted to add in another passion of mine - photography - and so I pivoted slightly.

But all along, its felt hard. Hard to sit down and write, hard to figure out what to write about. I created a list of 40 things to do before I turned 40 in order to spur content (which, embarrassingly, has not gone very far at all). I have many spinning plates going, and kept getting distracted by more shiny ones.

There’s been no peace in it.

As a Christian, a lack of peace is a big red flag that I’m living out of alignment with God’s purpose for my life. So I prayed. A lot. I prayed for clarity, I prayed for direction, I prayed for peace from the swirling vortex of my thoughts.

Then, as I prayed in the shower one day (other moms know this is one of the few moments of “quiet” in a house with young kids), the stark, resounding command shot through my mind: “Get your house in order”. Again and again, that phrase rang through my brain until I was on my knees.

I held this command quiet in my heart for a while and it began to expose some uncomfortable truths about our home.

It’s a mess.

Our weekly schedule this school year was a roller coaster, leaving the kids disregulated. Routines are nonexistent. Meal planning is on the fly at best. Our budget is wonky due to my husband’s freelance career. Cleaning happens in mad marathon sessions before expecting company. The laundry for 6 people lurks in baskets. Clutter seems to multiply when I blink.

It is not calm, it is not peaceful. It is chaotic and overstimulating, which can breed frustration, anxiety, and discontent. Many days I’m in survival mode. People offer me the excuse “you have young kids, it won’t always be this way”, but I refuse to accept it.

God invites us to more.

I want my home to be a sanctuary. A place where my kids learn and grow and feel comfortable. Where my husband can take breaks from his writing work and return refreshed and inspired. Where anyone who enters our home or even comes to our front door leaves feeling better. My husband has begun working with a testimonial project through our church, and I am embarrassed to welcome people into our home. I can’t imagine it radiates an energy that nurtures that kind of work.

I listen to decluttering experts and minimalism advocates and other homemaking podcasts. They all have their systems and have “finished the race” so to speak. Though the work is supposedly never done, they’ve at least gone through the learning and growth phase. Now they’re teaching others and have courses where you can learn their systems. I know I’m not alone (obviously there’s a market for their coaching and courses), but there aren’t many voices out there that are in the thick of things, sharing their mess as they work through it.

So maybe that is my mission.

The concept of pulling back and doing less is against my nature. I’ve always been the overachiever, but the reality is that whatever I’ve built has been built upon sand. Until I address the foundation and set my home on solid rock, I cannot add more. I’m putting aside building a photography business for now, and focusing solely on embracing my role as the matriarch of my home. I’m shedding any pride and pretense and allowing myself to be vulnerable in this space, in order to have some social accountability and also to invite you to join me.

There will still be fiber content, and my love for photography will inform the visuals that adorn each letter. However, going forward, I will be rebranding and expect to be sharing essays around the topics of homemaking, frugality and economy, decluttering and more; experiments with routines and systems; home projects; and reviews of books and podcasts with a similar bent. I want to welcome women in similar situations to join me, and be my friend in this process.

I am eternally grateful for those of you who have subscribed and supported me in this past year. If this shift in content doesn’t interest you, I understand. Please make space in your inbox for what does. But those who go forth with me on this journey, I look forward to being better friends.

Join me in June: Minimalism Game

I want to kick off this shift with a fun decluttering challenge. For those of you who, like me, have too much inventory to manage, I invite you to join me in a round of the 30-Day Minimalism Game. The rules are simple - on the 1st day of the month (hey look, that’s today!) get rid of 1 item. On the 2nd day, get rid of 2 items, and so on and so forth. They can be big items (that chair that only collects clothing) or tiny (overflowing box of pencil top erasers that I’ve hoarded for years even though we never seem to use pencils). I will be trying out the notes and chat features on the Substack platform to have daily check ins.

Much love,

Briana

P.S. I offer my first Minimalism Game quarry: one old printer. We don’t need two.