I put my face on the internet today. Not the face I wish I had—not smoother skin, not better hair, not ten years younger. Just me. Messy bun, tired eyes, that gray t-shirt I’ve been wearing since Wyatt was in diapers. The one with the tiny hole near the bottom that I keep meaning to sew up and never do.
The first version was too pretty. Too clean. Someone looked at it and said, “Is that really you?” And it wasn’t. So I tried again. Plainer. More honest. More like the woman who stands at this stove at 5 PM with flour on her hands and a kid yelling from the other room. The version of me that shows up, not the version I wish existed.
That’s the one that stuck. That’s the one that’s me. Managed clutter. Hands that know. The face of someone who chose authenticity over the highlight reel.
The Prayer
A Grace for Being Seen
Lord, give me the courage to be exactly what I am.
Not prettier. Not cleaner. Not richer. Just real. Just here. Just a mom in a drafty farmhouse with a dog who sheds on everything and a table that’s always, always full. Let me stand in this kitchen the way I actually am, without needing it to be something it’s not.
Let the people who find this place see something true. Not a brand. Not a lifestyle. Not a highlight reel. Let them see a kitchen where the window doesn’t seal and the chairs don’t match and the food is made with love and exhaustion in equal parts. Let them see hands that know how to show up, even on the hard mornings.
Help me remember that being seen is a gift, not a performance. That authenticity honors You more than any filter ever could. That the people who stay—who pull up a chair and come back for seconds—they’re staying for the truth. Not the lighting.
And help me give the same grace to anyone else who’s afraid to be seen. To show up as themselves. To let their real face—their real kitchen, their real budget, their real exhaustion—be enough. Because it is. Something warm comes from truth. Something real.
Amen.
After the Amen
Mason asked me tonight why I was smiling. I told him I put our family on the internet. He thought about it and said, “Did you put Duke?” I said yes. He said, “Good. Duke deserves to be famous.” Out of the mouths of seven-year-olds comes wisdom. We all deserve to be seen for exactly what we are. — Maggie
This grace is part of our Daily Grace collection — prayers written from our family’s kitchen table to yours. Learn about our family at About Maggie.
Recipes for being real together: Easy Banana Bread (the one that disappears when nobody’s looking), Nana Ruth’s Deviled Eggs (Clara’s specialty), and Easter Morning Cinnamon Rolls—recipes made with the hands you actually have, in the kitchen you actually live in.
More from the Kitchen Table: A Grace for the Quiet Hands · The Furnace Still Takes Its Time
