If you would have asked me eight years ago, “Where’s your favorite place?” I would have easily answered The Outer Banks. I have childhood memories of the beautiful sand and houses that stretch upon the endless expanse of beach. My husband and I got married there. And let’s not forget to mention Tullio’s Bakery and Duck Donuts—amazing!

The last eight years though have shaped me in ways similar to sea rocks that are tossed around by the waves. I’m different now—less rigid and smoother about some things, especially my expectations. And it turns out, if you ask me today, “Where’s your favorite place?” I would answer our kitchen table.

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It’s nothing fancy—just a four-legged rectangle purchased from Facebook Marketplace four-ish years ago. It’s marked with paint and dried glue. The chairs are a little wobbly but they withstand the use of our family of five. We gather here daily to share meals, learn, play, craft, bake, read, and talk. We laugh over warm tea and hot chocolate. We build LEGO for hours, sometimes even days.

It gets messy and cluttered often, but isn’t that so symbolic of life? As we share in life’s mess over a full table of love, the world just keeps on spinning around us.

In sitting here, I’ve come to learn that a lot of things are what you make of them. Sure elaborate vacations are fun, but they’re a blip, often planned for months and lived in what feels like just a few moments. Don’t get me wrong, I love vacation. Sign me up! But what I’m learning is things that last and leave an imprint are simple, recurring moments, that are ordinary in so many ways, yet treasures in the heart of the beholder.

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I hope and pray that our children will remember the simplicity, warmth, and treasure that I feel around our table. I hope you find a favorite, messy treasure where your people feel seen and loved and feel the warmth of your presence, despite the messiness of life, mama.