You probably won’t believe me when I say it’s cold in Taiwan.

This past week it’s been somewhere between the 40s and the 50s outside with an endless stream of rain. Houses in Taiwan don’t have insulation and they certainly don’t have heat so oftentimes it is colder inside than it is outside. I woke up the other day and my living room was 48 degrees! We have a little space heater (thanks to Laura!) but the open concept of our house makes it hard to heat.

The only room in our apartment without any windows is our dining room. It’s not a traditional dining room – it has a refrigerator, an oven, a bright red couch and our kitchen table in it. We’ve quickly found this is the easiest room to heat so we’ve been spending almost all of our time there – Travis, me, and baby Ben. With the exception of sleeping in our beds (and crib) and hurrying to the bathroom, we are in it around the clock. It’s become our little winter cabin.

A friend of mine gave me a book recently about how to balance modern technology and engaged parenting/family life. I’ve been a parent for a few short weeks yet I’m already wrestling with how to create a home that fosters relationship, creativity, and brilliance. In the second chapter Andy Crouch talks about the significance of having a “hearth.”

Usually when we hear hearth we think of “fireplace” but actually the word is more accurately translated as “focus.” Before modern technology the hearth was the center, the focus of the room – it’s what people gathered around – what the furniture was pointed towards.

In our living room we have a massive and beautiful television (by my standards), it actually came with our apartment. We also have an epic couch from Travis’s mom and it’s recliners literally point at the television. We’re not binge-watchers but it does get turned on a few times a week.

But there’s no television in our cabin.

As we’ve set up shop in our cabin-within-the-apartment, I’ve found that the hearth is actually our kitchen table. Travis and I have played countless board games together the last few weeks as Ben watches on. We sit at the table for meals and sometimes have hours of conversation afterwards. Our kitchen (cabin) table has played host to half a dozen guests this past week and our times together have been meaningful and recharging. (Even my introverted husband can agree with that).

As 2018 was rolling in I knew what changes God was asking me to make – and deep down I knew what He was calling me to was so much greater. Yet it took so much will power to let my social media go. I thought being informed made me more interesting and well-rounded, but ultimately it made me less interested and engaged in the world right in front of me.

As I sit in the cabin and write this I am extremely grateful for the peace that comes with engaging in one thing at a time. I love sitting on the red plastic couch with Ben and finding ways to make him smile and coo. How I enjoy the time at the table writing what I hope someday turns into a book. My husband is a wise and incredibly interesting man and I cherish our solve-all-the-worlds-problems discussions after dinner.

I’m always reminded of that Annie Dillard quote: How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.

This season in the cabin represents so much of what I want my life to look like. Being intentional with my kids and husband, writing about things that matter, and sharing God’s love and community around our table with guests of all sorts.

That sounds like a life well-spent to me.