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Brittany L. Bergman

Savoring motherhood, building marriage, and living simply

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3 Ways to Create a Peaceful Home during a Tense Season

Jul 5 46 Comments

I don’t want to have just a tidy home, a pretty home, a cozy home, a functional home — I want to have a peaceful home. Being a new parent isn’t exactly the most peaceful season of life, though, so I’m having to work extra hard to create an atmosphere of peace, to make my home into a refuge for myself and for Dan and for the people we welcome into it.

I’ve been a bit on edge recently —  having a needy, whiny, teething (and somehow, still darling) little baby around all the time will do that to you, along with never getting quite enough sleep. Even when she sleeps through the night, I don’t.

Also, Selah is starting to have separation anxiety even when I’m home. She doesn’t want to be put down for even a minute, so I let her cry while I pee, and then I go back to carting her around the house on my hip or in the wrap, or letting her sit in my lap while I hold her hands back with one of mine and try to type with the other. (Working from home is getting increasingly complicated.)

By the end of the day, my nerves are taut and my mind is mush and my tone is clipped. And we all feel it.

3 ways to create a peaceful home FB

 

A few weeks ago I asked Dan, “Do I make you walk on eggshells?” to which he said, “No, but you have been a little . . . testy.” Which means he probably wanted to say yes but couldn’t, because of the aforementioned eggshells.

It’s never my intention to generate tension, but lately it seems to seep out of me.

It’s in light of a recent good day — a day when I did get enough sleep and didn’t feel exhausted — that I realized what a profound impact my attitude has on the atmosphere of my home. It’s almost as if the people and the walls absorb my excess and then bleed it back out.

It’s a lot of pressure to be the one in charge of setting the tone of my home. Do I have to be happy-clappy, ever patient, never cracking or snapping? Am I, as wife and mom, the only one responsible for setting the tone of our home? No and no.

Each person who lives here contributes to the atmosphere, but the only one I can control is me.

While creating peace in my home doesn’t end with me, it can certainly start with me. Here are some ways I’m trying to create an atmosphere that’s a little more puffed up with peace and patience and not so weighed down by stress and tension.

I don’t want to have just a tidy home, a pretty home, a cozy home, a functional home — I want to have a peaceful home. I’m intentionally trying to create an atmosphere that’s a little more puffed up with peace and patience and not so weighed down by stress and tension, even though this season of life is pretty chaotic.

Lean in to my feelings.

One of the things I’m learning lately is that feeling my feelings — the good, the bad, and the ugly — is always okay. I don’t have to swallow the negative or stuff it away. In fact, I think the only way for me to get to the other side of impatience or frustration or exhaustion or grief is to feel the feeling and act on it but not from it. Instead of sensing the frustration and snapping, I’m trying to feel the frustration, find it’s source, and take a step back to address that.

Feel your feelings, but act ON them, not FROM them + 2 more ways to create a peaceful #home. Click To Tweet

For example, Selah whined for a solid two hours one day last week, and when Dan came home and teased me lightheartedly about something unrelated, my nerves were so frazzled that I almost lost it. So I felt my visceral reaction; told him gently that even though I knew he meant no harm, I wasn’t in the mood for jokes; asked him to take Selah for a few minutes; and laid down and closed my eyes. It took all of 10 minutes and a giving up of my usual desire to just muscle through, but this self-care saved us an argument and a night of gritted teeth.

Recognize physical triggers.

I’m getting better at recognizing my emotional triggers, but somehow I still manage to forget about the physical ones. Or really, I’m sometimes too tired to address the physical ones. I don’t put Selah’s toys away when we’re done playing, I let the dishes pile up when I work from home, and I always get through the process of folding the laundry and then can’t bring myself to put it away. All these little things add up to one disorderly house and one rattled mind over the course of just a few hours.

I’m trying to return to my basics, the habits I was so good about before I had Selah — tidying as I go, wiping surfaces, taking five minutes to fold the blankets and fluff the pillows. When I do, I actually notice a change in how much I like my house and how content and calm I feel.

Pray often.

I rarely have time to sit down and write out my prayers in my journal the way I used to. Sometimes this makes me feel like a failure, but I know that God doesn’t require my prayers to be written, to be long, or even to be well thought out. He wants to hear my needs moment by moment, unpolished, especially when I’m hanging by a thread.

When I’m up to my eyeballs in poopy diapers or rocking a crying baby in my arms, I can’t take ten minutes to process with God through my journal writing. I have about ten seconds to whisper my desperate plea for one more drop of strength, for one extra measure of grace. And you know what? He still hears me.

So often I try to rely on sheer will, mental muscle, and positive self-talk to power through tough moments. I’m a mom! I’m a woman! I am capable and strong and in control! I do believe in the power of positive self-talk, but I’m learning (for about the ninety-seventh time in my life) that I’m none of those things on my own, and only by asking for the Lord’s help will I be the woman I want to be, will I be able to reflect his character to my family.

So I lift my prayers — prayers that can be prayed in a single breath — up to the Lord, knowing he hears and will give me what I need for this moment. I tend to want a ten-year supply of patience, peace, and grace, but I’m learning to be content with my daily bread, and more often, just the bread I need for each singular moment. He is my portion every minute of every day, and he isn’t going anywhere. I don’t need to store up provisions when I have a trustworthy, steadfast God who hears me always.

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I’m sure I can’t be the only one who struggles to create peace when my inner life feels chaotic. I’m sure I can’t be the only one who sets her whole family on edge when she can’t take even one more moment of noise, one more whine, one more touch before I am all touched out and ready to snap. I’m sure I can’t be the only one who believes this matters but struggles to put it into practice.

Pumping our homes full of peace matters. It matters for our own sanity and for the health of the people who live with us. It matters because I want to welcome others into a home that is soaked through with peace when it’s at rest, not just glazed with peace when others enter in.

What do you do? What kind of atmosphere are you trying to create in your home? What are your practices for intentionally creating the atmosphere you envision?

3 ways to create a #peaceful home in the midst of a tense season. #intentionalliving #home Click To Tweet

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Filed Under: Relationships, Simple Living & Minimalism Tagged With: choices, faith, God, habits, home, intention, motherhood, relationships, simple living

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brittanylbergman

Brittany L. Bergman
The last day of school hit different this year. 💔 My tears at kindergarten graduation were not about how my first baby is growing up too fast. They were tears of gratitude that she’s growing up at all—something that should not feel spectacular, but does.

Swipe for some first day/last day comparisons and an outtake that I adore. 💜
There was a huge, complete rainbow outside Eamon’s bedroom window after his birthday party, and I can’t think of a better celestial celebration for our rainbow baby/big boy. 🌈
Our little Eamon baby is 3! 🎉 Though he will be Our little Eamon baby is 3! 🎉 Though he will be the first to tell you that he is not a baby—he is Eamon Boy, and he is a big kid.

Eamon is sweet and wild and silly and will do anything for a laugh, instantly charming everyone he meets. He is just as likely to tackle you as he is to request a hug and a kiss.

Eamon talks all the time and stretches out the last word of every sentence like it’s a question, but he also loves to communicate with roars and growls. No surface or object is safe around him, as he climbs and jumps off everything and will declare anything from a pillow to a plate his “rock” and throw it like he’s an Earth Giant in Frozen (we’re working on it).

He is obsessed with Dan, smitten with Selah, and thinks I’m just okay, at best—but he is my best buddy if the other two are unavailable.

This past year, Eamon went to Six Flags, Lake Geneva, and Disney World, and he has mastered his balance bike. Basically, he always wants to go fast and/or get as close to flying as possible.

Eamon, you are pure joy and delight, the brightest ray of sunshine, and the dreamiest rainbow baby. Happy birthday, my sweet boy! ☀️🌈💜
Or, “What does it say about me that the first po Or, “What does it say about me that the first poem I’ve written in a year is a list of things that make up my personal hell and I actually had to cut this down because I had so many/too many thoughts on the topic?” It’s fine, everything is fine.
This year was absolutely brutal. It also facilitat This year was absolutely brutal. It also facilitated some of the best decisions of my life, many born out of deep pain. Starting a new job, because the old one no longer fit. Getting vaccinated, to protect myself and others as we muddle through another pandemic year. All but quitting writing and social media, because I simply didn’t want to do it anymore. Most importantly, starting on Zoloft, because I needed it desperately. Those tiny blue pills quite literally saved my life.

The first half of 2021 was one of my darkest seasons, and the second half—thanks to modern medicine and my own intuition and the possibility of remote work, thanks to Selah starting kindergarten and me taking care of myself and being able to look at my kids and truly delight in them for the first time in a long time—was one of my happiest ever.

Holding both halves tenderly as we cross this next threshold. 💜
Selah Marie is 6! She started kindergarten this ye Selah Marie is 6! She started kindergarten this year and firmly entered world of big kids. Her confidence in every area has skyrocketed, from climbing her new playground to sounding out words to talking to new friends. She blows us away every day with her kind heart, generous spirit, and innate sense of empathy. She is tenderhearted, curious, affectionate, and hard to impress, and we adore her more every day. Happy birthday, Selah! 🧁 🎉 💜
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