As I braided her hair in a quiet moment, my daughter paused to tell me, “Mama, I like it when you wear your hair up in a bun on top of your head when you’re in the kitchen cooking dinner or sitting in the rocking chair nursing the baby.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” I asked.

“I don’t know, I can’t really explain it… it’s just normal.” she responded.

It was a passing comment, but I treasure it. Not just because it came from my child who wakes up each morning asking, “Are we doing anything fun today?” (translated: “are we doing anything out-of-the-ordinary?”) but because I see so much beauty in the ordinary – and I’m glad to be raising little women who do too. I knew immediately which “bun” she was talking about, and not only is it ordinary, I would argue that it is very much nothing special – the messiest of messy buns. Yet to my daughter, it was a symbol of the ordinary; part of the rhythm of her days thus far.

Her unexpected comment has stuck with me these past few weeks and reminded me again and again of the unspoken importance of ordinary. I’m not trying to build an empire. I’m just trying to live faithfully the life that I’ve been given. I hope to raise sons and daughters who see great value in ordinary work done faithfully – perhaps in part because they’ve seen it modeled well within the walls of their childhood home.