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I’m switching things up this week — new tone, new rhythm, same heart.
Actually... scratch that.

I’m slowing things down this week.
This letter is becoming more of what I hope it’s always been: a slow breath in the middle of your week.

Take a read and let me know what you think. I’d really love to hear from you. 🙂

—Tabitha

This past week in a minute:

🇺🇸 Birthday Reflections
Our oldest turned nine this week, although it’s turning into a multi-week celebration since her party is delayed a bit. Jordan and I always wrestle with the gifting part. How much is too much? Our kids don’t have a big crowd of cousins, so the grandparents tend to go big. And we’re just trying to keep things grounded.

Still, it was a sweet day. And a really reflective one for us (after I slowed Jordan down and made him talk about it, ha).
You can read more below about what we’re learning and leaning into — especially around preserving innocence.

🐣 On the Farm
We have dumplings! (Okay, technically ducklings, but Evie insists it’s a “dumpling” and I’m not correcting her.) We officially hatched 2!

They are still fresh, and our broody hen turned surrogate mama looks… well, rough. Her backside is featherless and she’s got that tired, over-it stare I remember from the early postpartum days. But she’s fiercely protective. She paces the coop, clucks her orders, and stays close.

Honestly? It’s the best motherhood metaphor I’ve seen all week.

Fingers crossed everyone transitions well these next couple of days. When will the ducks notice? Follow along on Instagram for live dumpling updates!

Preserving Innocence

My daughter turns nine today.

She doesn’t know who Taylor Swift is.
She couldn’t name a single shoe brand.
She asked for an American Girl doll for her birthday — the first “brand name” she’s ever really cared about.
She spent the afternoon reading Where the Red Fern Grows just so she could stay up late and watch the movie with me.

Later, we sat beneath the oak trees while I read her a story about a teenage girl who saved campers during the Camp Mystic flood 😭 🤲 .
We talked about tragedy. About miracles. About God’s timing and how His purpose can shine through even the unthinkable.

And now, she’s curled up beside me, her face peaceful and unaware.
As I watch her drift to sleep, I whisper a quiet thank you.
Somehow, we’ve done it.
We’ve preserved her childhood.

I know this isn’t “normal.”
Not in the world we’re living in.

But her dad and I have never once regretted slowing things down.
We let her be little. We filled her days with dress-up parties, homemade songs, backyard dances.
She is good. She is kind. And she is still fully a child.

The world pushes hard for our kids to grow up fast.
Too fast.
But we made the choice to resist that pull.
To guard her girlhood while we could.

From the beginning, we’ve held this posture:
Let her ask the questions.
Let us be the ones who answer them.
Let her grow — but not before she’s ready.

There will be a time when she sees more of the world.
When she wrestles with the beautiful and the broken.
But innocence doesn’t have to be torn away.
It can be lifted slowly, gently, with trust and love.

And when that time comes, she’ll step into the world with more than curiosity.
She’ll carry wisdom. And truth.
And a foundation that holds.

But for now, she’s nine.
And she is still ours.
Still little.
Still wrapped in wonder and all the goodness that comes with it.

So let them be little, mama.
Preserve their innocence.
Not by hiding them from the world, but by guiding them through it.
Not out of fear, but out of FAITH.
Not with control, but with intention.

God gave them a childhood.
Our job is to protect it.
To give them time.
To let them grow slow.

If this speaks to something you’ve been thinking about too, I’d love to hear from you.
Let me know if you'd like more on this. I think we all need it.