Burst of Sunshine

I want to share these with you.

 

A sweet neighbor brought these to my door a couple of days ago.
 

Aren't they pretty?

She brought them in a mason jar - which somehow added to the beauty and sweetness.

 I  nearly cried when she offered them.

And not just because daffodils are so fresh and Springy and pretty, though they are all those things, but because her gift was so thoughtful - so simply kind.

It made me wish that I had thought to give them to her ... and to all my friends.

 I've been carrying them with me wherever I go in the house.

 

  It's like toting a burst of sunshine.

 I sure hope that someone brings you your own burst of sunshine today or tomorrow or one day really soon. 

Until then, I say, snatch up this totally great idea, grab a mason jar and some daffodils, and make someone's day a little brighter!

Story

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about story. Life as a story.

And, if life is a story, then a few weeks of life equals a chapter? Does that figure? If so, then about a chapter or so ago, suffering from some very female symptoms that I won't go into here, I made a doctor's appointment, went to that appointment, and left that same appointment feeling hopeless and crushed. According to the doctor, all symptoms pointed to early menopause - the absolute end-all for the infertile woman, but according to the doctor, we still needed to do blood tests.

Don't doctors just have a way of making things so clinical? It's all so matter-of-fact. I actually consider my doctor a kind woman, and even so, her methods are so sterile --  Ha-hem, just like me, so it would seem. I didn't cry in her office, but later I sobbed on Handsome's shoulder.

How he can possibly love me all broken and barren and worthless ... and then there are those yucky night-sweats that I didn't go into above ... I will never understand.

Awaiting the blood test results was well, not agonizing exactly (although, it seems to me that to say it was agonizing makes for a better story), it was more or less irritating, numbing, depressing to think about ... I can't explain it really. I just thought, "This is it. It's all over."

But, when we did get the results we celebrated -- NOT menopausal after all!

Surprised? Me too.

And, if I am completely honest, there was some disappointment (on my part ... crazily enough) too. There would have been some bizarre relief in menopause. I mean, that would have meant for once and for all we could have put to rest the whole heartbreaking process of infertility - closed that chapter of our lives, if you see what I mean. Handsome and I could have definitely started looking into adoption. Now, instead, we find ourselves still swirling around in the whole mystery of why can't we get pregnant? Why can't we have a child of our own? Why won't my body just work? Why won't God allow it now? Will He ever? Has He forgotten me?

On the other hand, the blood tests revealed some very helpful things, and let me just say this, girls, if you're dealing with infertility, ask your doctor to check your thyroid -- first thing! Early in the process! Not eight years down the road! Sheesh!

Anyway, as I said, all this has been happening while I have been thinking about life as a story. I've been thinking about this particular theme for several reasons - one, because a girl who doesn't work and doesn't have children sometimes can't help but wonder if her life as any purpose at all, and two, because my stinky brother-in-law got me started reading a book that is all about living a good story, and three, because today, the very last day of my wonderful Bible study, ended with these words from Beth Moore (I love her!) ...

"God never writes a story without a good ending. That includes yours, Sweet One...

One day on the hillside of the New Jerusalem, surrounded by a crowd of glad hearers, the divine Narrator will tell the story of one woman's life ... It will be yours. 

The story will begin something like this: 'Once upon a time, in the days of the great and glorious Jesus, King of the vast empire of heaven and earth, there was a little girl who thought she was forgotten. Her name was ____________ but the King called her ____________.' This is the story of how she won His favor..."

Here's proof that Beth is telling the truth -- Philippians 2:13
"For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose."


And I feel like a second grader filling in the blanks on her test because I know the answer to that second blank! He calls me His Beloved!

My story this far seems to me to be completely imperfect and beyond favor, but the words above were so encouraging, and I am reminded that in Him my story does have purpose and worth.

And, I want you to know what He's teaching me today so that if even a little of it rings true in your life because of crisis or loss or loneliness or just because everyday life is hard, you can know that you are not alone, you are valuable, you are not forgotten, everyone of us is broken in some way or another, and yet, He is faithful. He is trustworthy. He is in control. And He loves you, Beloved.

Isaiah 49:15b-16a
"I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands."

Making a House a Home

The thing about moving into a new home is that first off, the stuff - and by stuff, I mean boxes and the miserable junk that at the ol' apartment I was sure that I could never live without - silly me - it all got hauled in, dropped any old place, and then spread like a fungus as boxes were opened, sifted, half-unpacked, shifted, packing paper was tossed and slung, and finally, under the guise of being a precious heirloom, stuff began to resurface.

Here's a peek at what it looked like...

 

  

 

I spent the first, solid week tripping over boxes, running into oddly placed furniture, and nicking the back of my right hand on something ... what that evil, biting, nicker was, I still cannot say, but I have the scar to prove it.

Then, everything changed. We settled our belongings into their new spots and suddenly the place seemed hollow and empty.

"We don't have enough stuff!" we cried in unison. Well, I heard the cry. Handsome swears that he said nothing.

Like I said...

First, stuff everywhere.

Second, nothing to fill that wall, or that wall, or cover that floor, or to sit upon in that room...

And so, we shopped! We shopped and shopped and shopped! We shopped so determinedly and sophisticated-ly that we actually spent seventy smackers on a marble/tile trash can. Yes, you read that right, I said a trash can. Please try not to judge. I am very happy to tell you that I cannot post a picture of that particular item as I did eventually come to my senses. I took it back and purchased this one for a buck-fifty instead.

 

Amazing, cheap trash can, how I love thee!

Truth be told, certain home-good stores are rather disappointed in me as, in the case of the expensive trash can, I returned more that ninety-eight percent of what we - I mean, mostly, I - purchased during those first few weeks of home-ownership. Please tell me that I am not alone?

I was just so excited about our new home, and I wanted it decorated perfectly. Actually, I felt a sort of anxious panic about it. Must fill! Must fill! Must be perfect! It MUST be a perfect reflection of me and my style sensibilities! Must! Must! 

Obviously, I was a tiny bit outta my mind ... here's what brought my sanity back around.

 Faces like these began to turn up at our door.

 They stayed and stayed! Our home was bursting at the seams.

 Sweet, little faces made themselves right at home ... at our home.

That's when I realized my home is never gonna be home because I hang just-the-right, framed print, or design a table center-piece that would turn Pottery Barn envy-green, or fold the chic-est towels into the cabinets, or hang the priciest curtains on the windows (I was trying to do all this and more), it's gonna be home because of the love and friends who fill it. Duh, to me!

Dear friends, you know who you are, please come visit us soon!

In the mean time, what I have decided to do about decorating is this ... I'm just gonna live here lots and lots of years (Lord willing). That will leave plenty of time to fill in all the nooks, right? I've decided to slow down and enjoy the process. I'm creating a sort of design book --- full of favorite ideas --- to maybe get around to one day.

With our budget now safely in check, here's what our home looks like so far...

Our bedroom

 

 The dining room

  

The guest bed - this is where you must come and stay!

 Front entry

 

 From the dining room to the living room.

  

 

 

And me this morning.

If you have any great decorating ideas, please forward them on - I need the help and it's part of the LONG TERM fun! 

Otherwise, please just bring yourself here, we'll sip tea and compare scars.