The Benefits of Lavender & How I Use It Every Day

Lavender’s Gift: Calm and Protection

There are two things I’ve come to rely on lavender for, and both have quietly transformed how I move through my days. The first is how it settles my nervous system—that gentle, almost miraculous ability to quiet a racing mind and soften tension I didn’t know I was holding. The second is its protective power: how it works at the microscopic level to keep skin clean and defend against unwanted bacteria. Working with Father of Lights, and crafting everything here in Oregon, has taught me that lavender is so much more than just something that smells good. It’s a plant that genuinely takes care of us.

A Little Girl, a Car Ride, and Lavender

Let me tell you about the day I really understood lavender’s calming power. My niece was four years old, and she was in one of those moods—grumpy, testing boundaries, the kind of energy that makes everyone in the room feel like they’re holding their breath. Her mom was meeting us at a restaurant, and I knew the car ride and the restaurant outing were only going to amp her up more. Before we left, I applied a bit of lavender essential to her stomach, gently rubbing it in with a slow, calm touch. It wasn’t a miracle cure—I didn’t expect one—but it felt like the loving thing to do.

By the time we reached the restaurant, she was asleep in her car seat. And when we arrived, something had completely shifted. She was quiet, content, almost serene—a 180-degree turn from the grumpy, restless child we’d left home. She spent the whole meal pressed against my daughter, wanting to be held, to be close, to just be still. I watched my daughter hold her and realized I was witnessing something real: a small child’s nervous system genuinely calmed by lavender’s soothing properties. It wasn’t magic, but it was powerful. It was lavender doing what lavender does—creating space for peace.

Why Lavender Calms Us

That moment stuck with me because it showed me why so many of us reach for lavender. In a world that’s constantly pushing us to go faster, do more, and stay alert, lavender offers something rare: permission to slow down. The science behind it is real—lavender’s compounds interact with our nervous system in ways that genuinely promote relaxation. When I use our lavender oil on my wrists or temples before bed, my body recognizes it as a signal. My shoulders drop. My breathing deepens. My mind, which often races into tomorrow’s to-do list, finally agrees to rest.

Lavender as a Natural Protector

But lavender isn’t just about soothing the soul—it’s also a quiet guardian for your skin. Lavender has natural antibacterial properties that make it especially useful when you want a gentle but effective way to keep skin clean. I keep our lavender balm in my car, my purse, and on my nightstand, and I use it for more than just aromatherapy. After touching my face during the day, a quick dab of lavender balm gives me that reassurance that I’m supporting my skin’s natural defenses. On days when my hands are extra busy—cooking, gardening, carrying a sick kid—I’ll rub a bit on my hands as a natural way to help protect against bacteria while also getting that calming scent. It’s practical care that actually works.

A Summer Afternoon at the Lavender Farm

A few summers ago, I found myself standing in the middle of a U-cut lavender farm on a perfect July afternoon—the kind where the heat is gentle, not punishing, and the sky sits so close you can almost touch it. Mt. Hood rose up in the distance, closer than I expected, its white peak clear and steady against the blue. The farm itself was a study in quiet beauty: rows of purple stretching toward the horizon, a simple farm store tucked to the side, and everywhere you looked, evidence of life. Kids were running between the rows, their laughter mixing with the hum of bees—so many bees—moving methodically from flower to flower, their legs already dusted with golden pollen. Parents were wandering, stopping to photograph moments, breathing in deeply. There was that specific kind of contentment that comes from being outside in the middle of summer when the weather cooperates. But what I remember most, what I still return to when I close my eyes, is the scent. Not just the lavender itself—though that was there, green and floral and inexplicably calming—but the whole field as a living thing. It was the smell of bees and pollen, of dry earth and wind, of summer at its best. Standing there, surrounded by the very plant I’ve learned to depend on, I understood something I hadn’t before: this isn’t just a flower I use. It’s a world. And every time I reach for our lavender now, I’m reaching back to that field, to that afternoon, to that perfect convergence of heat and beauty and life.