Hi there!With all of the new friends that have subscribed to this blog, it only felt right to re-introduce myself (and share my intention for everything that comes to your inbox). I'm Whitney, some call me Whit, and I own a little shop many of you know of called Rustik Market. I am a dreamer, a vision caster, a recovering perfectionist (still working on loosening my grip a bit), and a designer at heart. I'm married to a very steady, kind man and have two vibrant girls that keep me on my toes. We also have two goldendoodles and recently got a kitten (I'm not sure what I was thinking! How can something so cute be so destructive?)I am a gospel singer...
Every year I find myself in the same position when it comes to hosting - stressed. panicked, and overwhelmed by my long to-do list. Most of the stress stems from my desire for everything to be perfect. Hosting has become more about a performance lately than welcoming people into our home. When did it become about the hosts instead of the guests? This year I want to shift that mentality in my life - maybe you're wanting to do the same. Welcome to the club.Even though my focus is on stressing less and moving away from perfectionism, there are still things that need to be done before we host people in our homes. To help me stay organized, I created a short guide...
I wish this time of year was effortlessly merry. I wish gathering together didn't highlight the absence of people who won't be joining us. I wish putting up ornaments didn't remind me of the moments with my girls that I failed to cherish - how quickly time moves. I wish that family dynamics were always simple, and peaceful.Maybe you're feeling this way too. Around this time of year in our family we talk about the hopefulness of Christmas - the anticipation of Jesus coming and bringing Light and Hope into the darkest of places. He came into the world in the most vulnerable way, as a baby. I've been thinking about what I can learn from His vulnerable, sacred entrance. One thing I keep...
Sometimes I feel desperate for mathematical answers. I've never understood math - how there can only be one answer and one way to get there. I remember asking "why" so many times in my math courses and always seemed to receive the frustrating response of "it's just what you do". I was looking for the step by step rationale behind why I should plug these numbers in here and not there and never received a satisfying answer. Maybe my teacher didn't want to take the time to respond. Maybe she didn't have an answer. I'm convinced that's just how math is - no one knows why, it just is. Plain, to the point, predictable, and simple. For a long time I didn't...
It was never in the living room. Our lives happened around a slab of wood. Our kitchen table was a sacred space growing up. We did the hard work of developing our beliefs and our character, asked big questions and shared all of our dreams. We fumbled over apologies and worked on humbling ourselves enough to ask for help. It was the spot for homework, dinners, celebrations, mourning, building and mending relationships, and everything else in between. Our family loves to eat and we believe in the beauty of sitting around a table together. “We don't come to the table to fight or to defend. We don't come to prove or to conquer, to draw lines in the sand or to stir...
