It’s reset time here at the Dunham house. I wrote more about it over here. Excuse me while I go check something else off my list…


After years of bad vacation experiences, our family broke its losing streak last week: We drove to Florida, seeing friends and spending five relaxing and enjoyable days at the ocean. It was a great trip for many reasons, not the least of which was the break from the tyranny of the urgent. We rested, we relaxed, we renewed. Most importantly, we reset.

I’m all about the family reset button. Certain seasons of the year just spiral way out of control and we need someone to push the reset button to get things back to the way they should be. Though technically still summer, I feel like we’re better prepared for the fall than we otherwise would have been had we just kept barreling headfirst toward August with our heads down and our collective breath sucked in. We needed the break.

I do have a problem with my reset button, though. It is usually eight parts mental and two parts practical. This time I asked Craig to help me with the reset. Craig is a systems guy. He not only makes plans, he sticks to them. He is the very picture of functionality. I am more the picture of flippancy.

I’m very systems-challenged, but it isn’t for lack of trying. I’ve tried organizers; I’ve got a whole shelf of time-management books; I’ve bookmarked similar websites; I’ve got a stack of planners I’ve both bought and printed myself. You name it, I’ve probably tried it. I just can’t keep going with anything (hence the need for the more than occasional reset).

In lieu of fancy planners or software programs this year (I’ve tried those, too), I’m going old school in keeping a hand-written to-do list on a homemade “white board” (actually an old window frame with cute fabric placed behind the glass panels). The white board (or “window board,” as I’m calling it) is hanging on the wall in my kitchen above my computer—ever present and (hopefully) ever motivating. I have eight squares in which to narrow down the categories of my life: home, office, school, personal, writing, seminary, and crafts. (Yes, for those counting, I have one square unclaimed, which Craig suggests I leave open so I always have one open. It’s a margin thing, he says.)

So the reset is on, but I’m nervous. I know my tendency to start strong but soon fizzle. So I’ll rest in Lamentations 3:22-23, which says, “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” That should be about all the reset I really need.