My husband and I sat down to watch Netflix’s Little House on the Prairie. At first, he was reluctant, but then he was hooked. We couldn’t stop talking about it over the next few days, and a few themes stuck with us.
In no particular order:
1.) They had time.
They didn’t have outside commitments. Literally, their whole day and life were spent stewarding well what had been given to them or building from the ground up. Doing laundry. Gathering food. Cooking the food. Fetching water. Lighting the fire. Tending the fire. Feeding the animals. This was their day.
Maybe I speak for myself, but as a 2026 mom, I feel like I’m not doing enough. Constantly. I’ll make breakfast, do the laundry, tend to the house, vacuum the floors, fold the clothes, put them away, dress the kids, bathe the kids, pack my husband’s lunch, and then I catch a glimpse of someone building a business, living glamorously, looking like a movie star in their outfit of the day, and my jaw drops… in exhaustion but also in wonder… HOWWWW? How are they doing it?! I can hardly keep up with “this.”
And then I watch the Ingalls and their days, and I go, Wow, that was their day, and they lived it well. I always feel like I’m letting someone down—myself, God, or my “potential,” which we hear so much about. Like I’m burying my talents if I don’t build something that’s proving something. There’s nothing to prove. I don’t have to go further than my kitchen sink and my hardwood floors to find holy ground and God’s will. It’s literally right under my feet.
2.) Caroline Ingalls was stressed.
I’ve felt stress. I’ve felt exhaustion, but I have never felt the need to build a house from the ground up by winter or my family could starve to death. I’ve never experienced having no food and needing to get creative fast. It gives me a gut check how many times I’ve said, “We’re out of food. I need to get groceries,” when I truly could make five meals easily out of what I call “nothing.”
She felt stress—lots of it. She also didn’t let it crush her, but she let it make her stronger. Her girls saw her will and determination. The grapes got crushed, and the wine of her life-giving spirit poured forth.
We’re really into “lowering our stress” nowadays. It’s good, I think. But also, are we making mountains out of molehills? Believing our life is treacherous when we really are living cushy lives and haven’t tasted the first lick of treachery? That’s not to dog on our generation but more to say maybe we need a wake-up call to how blessed we are by modern-day conveniences. To not take them for granted. To be grateful that God made humans so innovative—from first learning how to build houses by chopping down logs to designing vehicles that get us from our house to our grandma’s house across states in 12 hours. That’s really something when you think about it. Thank you, humanity, and the intelligence the Lord has instilled in us to create and invent.
3.) Every moment of time wasn’t filled.
Their evenings had no entertainment but watching the fire crackle or listening to a fiddle. They had so much time to think, ponder, and meditate on life and nature. When the sun went down, their day was done. When the chores were done and the meals were cooked, they sat outside and hand-stitched, with the quietness of the day filling their minds. So much room to reflect.
They didn’t know what was going on all over the world. They didn’t know the latest trends. They didn’t know how much existed out there, and that made them ponder the blades of grass swaying in the wind—the ones Jesus used multiple times in His parables. A blade of wheat wasn’t too small to ponder. They had worries and stresses, that is clear, but were their minds so cleared out that God’s deep thoughts could land on soil that was rich and nurtured and could take root?
4.) They knew who they were.
Caroline Ingalls didn’t have Instagram, Facebook, MySpace, Pinterest, or MSN Messenger. She had books she read, and maybe she flipped through a magazine or two, but ultimately she didn’t have anyone she didn’t know telling her who she should be.
My favorite line in Episode 3 was when Caroline was talking to her sister Eliza in a dream. Eliza was telling her it’s not too late to have a better, wealthier life with an old suitor named Robert, and Caroline’s response is gold:
Eliza: “You still have a chance at that life, Caroline.”
Caroline: “I didn’t want that life. Robert was dull and predictable. He was safe. I wanted something different. Charles is overly optimistic and naïve, but he’s also brilliant and inventive and driven by love and hope and a sense of adventure. And I always wanted that for my life. I always imagined I was that kind of person too. He makes me feel like myself.”
Eliza: “This is what you want? An uncertain life?”
Caroline: “An uncertain life is full of possibilities.”
I love that line so much!!
She was willing to look like a fool for love and for the sake of staying true to herself. She could make this choice with her extended family thinking she was crazy, yes, but she also didn’t have to have an internal crisis over what thousands of acquaintances would think about her or craft the perfect post to explain herself. There wasn’t an audience of eyes on her. She lived from her heart and risked it all.
I’m grateful for how far we’ve come since Laura Ingalls’ days, but I’m also finding nuggets of gold that I’m carrying into my modern days. It feels like an exhale that I needed.
I’d love for Caroline to come over so I could show her how to use a dishwasher and how amazing a washing machine is, but I’d also love to ask her what it was like to have so much time to ponder and to really have no idea what was going on in anybody else’s life but the people right in front of you.
I think we could both strike gold.
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