All summer, I’ve been learning to celebrate the ordinary, the quiet, the messy, the simple moments that make up a life. Not the fireworks or confetti, but the everyday mercies: waffles on a weekday, green beans from the farmers market, pasta sauce that stains your apron but feeds your soul. And now, at the end of these sixty days, I’ve realized the celebration isn’t somewhere “out there.” It’s right here, in the place I come back to again and again: my kitchen.

Every time it starts the same way. I walk in, tie on my apron, switch on the counter lamps. Music in the background, candle flickering, recipes queued up in Plan to Eat like a playlist. I open the fridge, gather my ingredients, and begin. It’s not fancy. It’s not perfect. But it’s presence. It’s rhythm. It’s saying yes to life one meal at a time. And maybe that’s the secret: celebrating life isn’t about what happens once in a while, but about showing up every single day — with intention, with gratitude, with love.

Because if a kitchen can become a cathedral, then maybe the ordinary really is extraordinary. And maybe the best way to celebrate life… is simply to live it.

Gracefully yours,

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Reference
Niequist, S. (2024). Celebrate Every Day. Zondervan.