2024 marks the year my health took a turn for the better. It has been almost a decade since my chronic health issues started. I chose to take the slow road of food, rest, and chiropractic healing, which has worked through layers upon layers of different health issues. This year all that work started to pay off, culminating in finding an eating plan that has upped my energy and eliminated a large portion of my brain fog, headaches/migraines, and light sensitivity. I have done some heavy-duty detoxing, released a lot of anxiety with my chiropractor’s help, and grown in my understanding of the importance of fat. This has been a blessing from the Lord…as was the last decade of health struggles. I learned a lot. I learned to say no, to balance my goals and dreams with my health, to be invested in my home, to rest (why is learning to rest so hard!?), to let go of the desire to be significant and to be content. I learned about herbs and food, the immense value of slow living, and gentleness towards others. The last decade has been hard, but it has been valuable and I’m thankful for it.

There are two things I’m seeing right now that atrophied during this past decade. Now that I see them, I can’t unsee them. They’re staring me in the face, clamoring for attention. So here I am, giving them attention.

Cleaning: Somewhere in the dissipating brain fog of 2024, it struck me that we have lived in this house for almost 15 years. 15 years. When did that happen? Where did those 15 years go? It seems like we just moved in two years ago. I look at my house and I feel shame. There are so many things that need to be updated and projects that have simply been sitting around unfinished and degrading. We live here but we haven’t been improving our property. We’ve been barely keeping things from going to rot and ruin. That’s not good stewardship at all. The area where this has struck me recently is deep cleaning. I listen to other HearthKeepers and to the Homemaker Chic podcast and I realize I only clean on a surface level ever. Nothing in my home has ever been deep cleaned and we have lived here 15 years. I don’t even know how to deep clean most of the things in my home.

I don’t view my home as dirty or disease-ridden, but I also don’t want anyone looking too closely. I look at things and think, when was that last cleaned? I haven’t cleaned it in the 15 years we’ve been here, when did the previous owner clean it? Am I supposed to clean that? How do I clean that?

(Some of you are probably thinking, yep, not going to her house or eating her food.)

Suddenly, I’m horrifically overwhelmed. I am ready to set a match to my home because there is no way I can catch up. I simply see more and more and more and more and more that needs to get done.

Side Note: If a anyone person says to me, “Well, you can only clean so much,” as if things are so clean nothing needs cleaning, I might explode. I have never met a productive homemaker who thinks things are clean enough. Being productive is messy. Being in community is messy. Tending our people is messy. There is always a mess, always dishes, always something that needs to be cleaned.

This is when I remind myself that I have been struggling with chronic health issues for the last decade. Take a deep breath. I know and the good Lord knows that I have been trying to do my best and this is simply a new level to move into. I don’t need to go over every millimeter of my home right now with a toothbrush and harsh chemicals. I need to see that this is my next area of growth. I need to acknowledge it needs to be done. I need to get out my books and start planning. I need to talk to and listen to other homemakers to get help and ideas and encouragement. I need to open my eyes to see what needs doing and let the needs simmer on the backburner of my mind until they coalesce. Then, I need to start. I need to get going one tiny step at a time.

My goal is to not overwhelm myself and not slip back into my chronic-health blindness. My goal is to tackle this and learn how to do it.

Social Engagement: Nothing saps my energy faster than social engagements. This includes everything from Sunday Services to going to visit a friend to having people over. I can go longer when fewer people are around. But people and socializing are important. I believe that. What I seek is balance. Too many social engagements mean I’m not able to tend to my home, and as you can see from the above section, there’s lots of tending to do. Too few social engagements leave me cut off. With more energy and the backing off of my chronic health issues, I am striving to engage more with the people in my life. I’m trying to say yes more often and invite people into my home more regularly.

What this has brought to my attention is how atrophied my social skills are. Both my internal thoughts – it gives me anxiety and I always feel very awkward—and my management of people in my home—it takes me several days to prepare. I’m unskilled. Thankfully, this is a skill that can be developed with practice.

I’ve started by making a study of hospitality: how to take care of the people coming into our homes who aren’t our families or best friends. I want to make sure I’m providing seats, drinks, and a clean facility. I want to understand physical needs that need attention while people are in my home. I also want to know how to tend to emotional needs. Being in someone's home is to make one’s self vulnerable. I want to limit and reduce that vulnerability as much as I can. This is found in kind and safe conversation.

I’m halfway jumping in the deep end and halfway dipping my toes in the water. I’ve hosted two Family Days this year, played the backup for one of our other pastor’s wives, agreed to co-host one of my quarterly book club meetings, and set things in motion to have different groups of women over. I’ve said yes every time our deacons have asked about someone using our guest room.

To further my hospitality education, I’ve talked with other women who excel at making people comfortable in their homes about how to do that, especially when it comes to parents of small children. I am well aware of the fact that my home is not child-friendly even when I consciously work to make it so. I have breakable things, plants on the ground, antiques, and a light-colored couch. I have pillows and throws. I tremble at the thought of how tense my home might make a mom with small children. Even my backyard isn’t kid-friendly. There aren’t any swings or toys, but there are flowerbeds…and chicken poop.

Once I get past my concerns about my home—which is mostly pride that needs to die—there is the awkward social side. I can make all the best plans in the world to engage in conversation with someone I don’t know well, and then the minute they walk in the door, my brain forgets how to speak English. I loathe awkward silences, but I don’t always know what to say or I excessively chatter. This is an area I am going to have to build up some brain muscle. My plan is to start with groups or have someone I know who is good at conversation coupled with someone less well-known to me. I always remind myself that everyone is awkward in social situations. All of us feel awkward. It’s okay. Just keep trying.

As I was writing this article, I was facing more social engagement requests than I can fit in two months' worth of life. It is amazing to me how quickly engaging in our communities can take over housekeeping and tending. When I first came home and stepped away from “my career” I said yes to all the things and was never really focused on my home. As I said at the start, one of the blessings of my chronic health issues was being forced to be home and focus on home. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to just go-go-go all the time. I want to find the balance between housekeeping and hospitality. I want to have slow, quiet days and weeks. I want to be careful with my health. Housekeeping and Hospitality must be held in tension to stay in the golden mean.

All this is my rambling thoughts about skills that I want to grow which fell by the wayside over the last decade due to my health struggles. I hope this has encouraged you to realize that homemaking isn’t stagnant. There are always things we can learn and skills we can grow. There are a thousand things to improve on and work towards. We HearthKeepers are layer-ers. We are always layering new things on old things, new skills on old skills. That is one of the great gifts of our work, there is no end to the possible ways to grow.

Chronic Health Atrophy

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