let why lead
Welcome to Let Why Lead, a place for the purposeful wife and mom. I’m Erica, and I'm passionate about living fully and filling my family with love and belonging. For regular reminders of the whys of your life, I hope you’ll keep coming back.
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Home Progress!

We’ve made some progress in our home! We absolutely love our neighbors and the townhouse itself, and I’m having so much fun getting a taste for decorating. Our bedrooms are still untouched (as in, our master has zero actual furniture), but the living area is coming together!


One of our challenges is that this room is wiiiide, making it hard to see the TV from the couch. Our neighbor who has the same floor plan suggested putting a narrow desk behind the couch so we could move the whole arrangement up a few feet. We picked up a long, narrow white desk at Ikea, and all members of this household have been watching TV happily ever since. (Ha.)

TV gallery wall

I wanted to warm up the room a bit with some gold, so I bought gold frames for the gallery wall behind the TV. It is WAY hard doing asymmetrical gallery walls, and I still don’t think I’ve nailed it, but I think it’ll stay like that (above) for a while. :)

(Art print from minted.)

entry gallery

I used frames I already had for this wall in our (tiny) entryway. I love seeing these prints on my way down the stairs every morning. (And it’s good for the kids too!)

fiddle leaf fig

The update I’m probably most excited about is this plant! This four-foot, fiddle leaf fig now lives in the back left corner of the living room.

Important note: I promise our place does not look this clean all the time. And I swear my children are the messiest eaters ever! But I’m so grateful to have this space to make our memories in.

Life Lately + House Update

I hope you all have a great weekend!!


When I Was 18… | A Post about Who We Are Right NOW

When I Was 18... | A post about loving the latest version of *you.*

I watch her, a blue-eyed eighteen-year-old, speak directly into the microphone. Her eyes sparkle as she addresses the congregation. Her posture is impeccable.

She is me twelve years ago. I was the blue-eyed girl who felt like 18 was so much older than 17. Eighteen just sounds like you’re on the brink of something, and I knew I was.

I was weeks away from high school graduation, months away from moving to an out-of-state school.

My posture was impeccable.

At 18, I walked around with a confidence born of a supportive family, mercifully competent social skills, and a belief in who I was. The excitement of being 18—of being on the cusp of my whole life—lived and breathed around me. It filled the room when I walked in.

Now, though, I’m standing on the other side. It took seeing that blue-eyed me speaking in church last week to realize that I’m now—inexplicably—past all the milestones I dreamed of and longed for when I was 18.

Things that seemed so foreign to me then are as familiar to me now as my own reflection. My husband’s face—

When I Was 18... | A post about loving the latest version of *you.*

My children’s profiles, from every angle—

When I Was 18... | A post about loving the latest version of *you.*

My dishwasher full of sippy cups and my diaper bag full of goldfish crumbs.

It’s so blessedly normal now that it’s hard to remember ever not knowing this life.

Dan Gilbert says we reinvent ourselves every ten years. (And we always think we’re finished, even though we never really are.)

I’ve been re-made in the last decade, and sometimes I miss that youthful confidence (typical teenage insecurities aside :) that I came by easily. It was a confidence that life would give me what I sought.

Now, I’ve been humbled. I’ve struggled to reconcile my expectations for my life as a mom and a wife to my reality. I’ve mothered two tiny boys while my husband worked late into the night and left early each morning. I’ve experienced periods of depression right in the middle of some of the most joyful days of my life. (It makes no sense, I know.) And I’ve watched people I care about go through the same (and sometimes much more).

I no longer trust that life will give me what I seek. But on my best days, I can trust that whatever paths I’m led to are the paths I’m meant to tread. Any confidence I walk with now, though it may not feel as shiny or as loud as it did when I was 18, has more staying power, because it’s been tossed around, scuffed, and tested.

To borrow some beautiful words from Katrina Kenison

When the Going Gets Tough | Beautiful words, plus a thoughtful post about loving the latest version of yourself.

When the going gets tough…

May I remember that my life is what it is, not what I ask for.

May I practice with what I’m given, rather than wish for something else.

May I assume nothing.

May I turn my gaze up to the sky above my head, rather than down to the mess at my feet.

When the going gets tough may I choose love over fear. Every time.

When I Was 18... | A post about loving the latest version of *you.*

And may we always love the latest versions of ourselves.

I write a lot about growing up. It seems to be a thread that I just can’t help but tug at again and again. :)

Can you relate to that contrast between your sense of self at age 18 and your sense of self now? I’d love to hear how your experiences have paralleled or differed from mine. As always, thanks so much for being here! Your sweet words make it so much easier to open up and keep writing. Much love!


10 Mindfulness Exercises to Do with Your Kids

A few mornings ago, as we stepped outside in the chill of the early morning air, my six-year-old son stopped in his tracks and said— “Smell that! Take a deep breath.” “It’s so fresh,” his brother followed up. And my heart stretched a little on both sides. :) Maybe my subtle efforts to live mindfully with my kids were rubbing off…


Capturing the Heart of Your Family through HONEST, Authentic Photography

Friends. THIS. I love this post. I’m PUMPED to have my friend Cari here today, giving her soulful take on how to capture your family authentically. (Hint: you can leave the laundry baskets in the frame!) I know you’ll love it as much as I do. Thanks, Cari! Growing up, my parents had a cupboard filled to the brim with dusty, leather…