Hi, if you’re new here, I’m Olivia and I’m a mom of a bunch of wild children doing her best to follow Jesus. I’m thankful you’re reading these words and hope they bring some freedom from shame and encourage you to show up for the people right in front of you. If you resonate, leave a comment or hit the heart button!

I don’t know about you, but I have a limited capacity.

There’s an ancient Indian proverb that says, “Children tie their mother’s feet.” I heard about it from the missionary Amy Carmichael, my childhood hero. She rescued girls from temple slavery in India and opened an orphanage caring for vulnerable children. She had a time where she was traveling preaching the gospel and was hesitant to become a mother because of the way it limits you. But this little girl who ran away from the temple stole her heart and she chose to let her feet be tied so she could invest deeply in children in need.

I think motherhood more than ties your feet, I think it ties your mind too. I find myself with far less mental space than I did before I had kids. It took almost two years after we started foster care before I felt like my brain had the energy for things like hobbies or focusing on my health. Survival mode was real.

It’s not that I don’t still have deep thoughts. I’m still a reader. I’m still a thinker and feeler. I’m still a writer. But I have significantly less mental space. I have appointments and school coordinating and routines and keeping my house from pure chaos and activity schedules and groceries/snacks and so many extra factors filling my brain in addition to giving care and attention to each kid, listening to their big thoughts, figuring out what they need, how to parent them well, and worry/prayer for them. My ADHD brain felt busy before, but motherhood unlocks a new level of squirrel brain and fighting my thoughts to remember everything.

This is my background for saying this:

I think it’s okay not to be informed.

I think it’s okay not to engage in every political cycle or issue.

I think it’s okay not to consume media that is inflammatory or stresses you out.

I think it’s okay to mute people on social media and unfollow people.

I think it’s okay not to know or fully understand every tragedy and world news event.

I think it’s okay to be intentionally ignorant.

There is absolutely a time and a place to take up a cause. There are times to be educated about world events and politics and different injustices you are called to do something about.

As a very justice-minded person (I have a degree in social work for crying out loud!) there have been times I would have disagreed with myself. I would have said it’s privileged and selfish to insulate yourself from the awful things happening in the world. You need to DO something about it. Everyone needs to play their part.

And I still agree that everyone needs to play their part, but I understand it differently now.

For me, playing my part doesn’t mean being a political expert. For me, in this season, playing my part doesn’t even mean leading or even volunteering at a nonprofit. For me, at this time in my life, playing my part means giving my whole self to the 5 children brought into my family through foster care. How can I invest in them with peace, joy, and mental clarity to be there for them in whatever they need? My extra margin after that? I want it to go to my local community. I want to bring meals for friends who are in kinship-care situations or are going through a medical struggle. I want to check in on people and remember to text back more often (one of my big weaknesses). I want to take the former foster youth in my life to lunch when they’re having a hard week. I want to bake cookies for my neighbors just because. I want to craft homemade gifts for my family members and remember to call my mother-in-law more often.

It doesn’t look fancy. It doesn’t look like the “I’m going to change the world!” rarara of my earlier twenties. I’m not traveling to other countries documenting natural disasters or humanitarian work. I’m not interning at a global nonprofit fighting sex trafficking. I’m not even a part of a local outreach to any of the vulnerable populations I have a heart for. I’m just doing my best to love the people right in front of me and pray for my phlebotomists and be welcoming to my kids’ friends.

There is a famous Mother Teresa quote saying, “Want to change the world? Go home and love your family.” While I believe moms (and all parents) can love their family and contribute to the larger society, it’s also okay for there to be seasons where you’re deeply invested in a much smaller circle.

I want to show my kids how to be community-minded and look beyond themselves. We try to do this by bringing them along as often as possible. We’ve taken our older kids to nonprofit galas and try to stop to give extra snacks if we see a homeless mother while getting groceries. They help us make and deliver meals to friends who’ve had babies or illnesses. We’ve bought Christmas gifts for kids in need together. We’ve had hard talks about how rearranging our schedule to be a part of people’s big events (like weddings, graduations, baby showers) is important and worth the sacrifice of our preferences. Part of being an Alnes is “we show up for others,” whether it’s a sibling’s sports game or helping watch someone’s kids. We don’t do it at the expense of our kids, but carefully say yes to benefit them by showing them the world doesn’t revolve around them and there’s enough to go around.

Sometimes, this does look like time away from our kids. Sometimes, it does look like engaging in a bigger issue or injustice outside of our home or even local community. But it’s also okay whatever it looks like.

I don’t have the capacity to engage with politics this fall.

All this is to add context for my most controversial take: I can’t engage with too much politics right now. It stresses me out. As someone who is already politically homeless (too conservative for the liberals and too liberal for the conservatives), I don’t have a lot of patience or bandwidth. I sometimes wish I could be better informed, but I know that information comes at the cost of my peace, which is a cost too high at this time.

Some people will disagree with me. I get that. I’ve heard plenty of faith leaders say “politics is part of your Christian duty!” I’ve heard plenty of Tik Tokers say, “you’re a bad person if you don’t speak up on XYZ!” But I think that’s people projecting a lot of shame, which I never believe is a good method to create change.

You don’t need to be a mom to choose some intentional ignorance this fall. You might still feel burnt out from 2020 (same). You might be struggling with your mental health. You might be in a super busy season with school or work. You might have a sick family member or a chronic illness yourself. You might not want to engage in it and that’s enough of a reason in itself.

And maybe you do want to watch debates and read articles and listen to podcasts and do all the things! More power to you. But here’s where I’ll push back: make sure you’re spending just as much time investing into real people and issues in your personal world as thinking about national and global conflict. Don’t let your fascination be a distraction. Don’t fall for the rage bait. Choose a posture of peace. You might be called to make a difference or speak up in this area, awesome! Go for it! If you can do it without the cost to your soul and mental health, then that’s awesome.

For me, for now, I can’t.

My energy, the best of me, is not needed to figure out who to vote for (though I will begrudgingly vote) or to tell others what to think or who to vote for. The best of me is needed to love my people well. The best of you, regardless of the approach you take, is needed for that same goal.

Here’s my challenge for you:

This week, do something for someone in your real life.

Bring a meal.

Send an encouraging text or check in on someone.

Call your grandma if they’re living.

Do a random act of kindness.

Make something beautiful to share.

You might just find that our tiny little acts of love have more power to change the world than we could ever imagine. In a globalized world, we need the village back. We need to “do small things on repeat” as Hannah Brencher would say. Choose peace. Put on love. Show up. Whatever that looks like for you.