Well I knew it matter but I couldn’t fully embrace it.
For the last 20 years, I’ve been a homemaker. My dream job really. But I almost cringe when I say the word homemaker. Not because I’m ashamed of the work I’ve done, but because I don’t think the word fully captures what we actually do. Over time, culture has a way of distorting good words, and homemaker is one of them. It’s been watered down, mocked, or turned into a symbol that feels outdated or even offensive to some.
Honestly, a big part of my journey has been figuring out how to own the heart of homemaking without feeling boxed in by the word itself. How do I proudly live out my calling—loving and creating a home—while avoiding all the stereotypes the word homemaker now carries?
Because let’s be real: today, homemaker can feel synonymous with “trad wife,” submissive, spineless, apron-wearing caricatures of women who don’t think for themselves. Words like privelage, laziness, and a waste of time also come to mind.
And that’s not me. That’s not most of us.
But here’s the thing: I believe we are all homemakers. If you have a home, you are called to shape that space. To build boundaries and offer refuge to the ones who live in it—including yourself. That takes thought, intention, and care. Sure, some of us may have stronger skill sets when it comes to managing all that a home requires—but in one way or another, we all share in the responsibility of making home.
I have a big heart for the home. So here at Just Destiny, my goal is to restore dignity to the home, elevate the role of the homemaker, and cast a meaningful, beautiful, and realistic vision of modern home life. What it can be—and what it actually is. Because both of those ideas can live at the same time.
But there was a time I believed that all though I was right where I wanted to be the shame of homemaking got to me.
I thought folding laundry, planning dinners, organizing the pantry, or wiping down the counters—again—was somehow less valuable than what everyone else seemed to be doing “out there.” No matter how hard we try our humanity wants to be excepted by our peers. To feel like we are contributing. Like we belong. But as I’ve learned and as the bible teaches us conforming ( to comply with the standards ) to the pattern of this world will lead you astray and will eventually lead to heartbreak and confusion.
“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. 2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:1-2
I saw women, my friends and my family chasing careers, building brands, taking meetings. I saw influence, income, and identity attached to busyness and visible success.
And I began to wonder…
Was I falling behind? Was I wasting time? Was I enough?
The culture told me that unless I was producing something for the world to see—something with numbers, data, a title, a following—I wasn’t really accomplishing anything at all. My ministry couldn’t just be at home. It had to have reach.
So I looked outside my home for meaning.
I tried to “upgrade” my role. I started blogging and building this brand Just Destiny all the while trying my best NOT to
to minimize my presence at home. This business and brand has been a blessing. BUT because my heart was all over the place I drifted. And the further I drifted, the more I felt the ache of home.
Because while I was searching and hustling for and add-ons to my identity, there was a quiet voice whispering:
Destiny.This matters.
We serve a God of the visible and the invisible, so the invisible things do matter.
The atmosphere I set at home.
The way I show up, even when no one’s watching.
The meals I plan and make, the prayers whispered, the home I’m building not just with decor but thought and creation. Turning chaos into order and peace. Just like our Father in heaven who’s image we bear.
It didn’t happen overnight—but slowly, God began to redeem the way I saw my role at home.
He showed me the sacred in the simple.
He reminded me that home is His first classroom, His creative studio, His chosen sanctuary. He has taught me through my parenting, through hosting parties and planning meals that everything is His and to align myself with a good good Father is the best thing I could ever do.
I learned that making a home with intention will never be outdated—it’s eternal.
That serving my family doesn’t diminish my value—it reveals it.
That creating beauty everyday is not frivolous—it’s a form of worship.
And that creating life at home for my family is not a second-tier calling—it’s a first-class ministry.
So I came back.
Not to a perfect house. Not to a curated life. Not to a new career.
But to the kind of home life that feels like peace and that feels intentional. Like someone built it this way on purpose. A type of home life that honors God and strengthens his Kingdom.
And now? I don’t apologize for loving home. I want to be here, no matter how messy or loud or crazy it gets. No matter how skillful I am a home keeping, party planning or cooking or all the mundane.
I stand in it—with purpose.
And I invite you to do the same.
