|
|
Author: nik
Posted: 2007-10-08 17:00:41
|
When I think of home, the word "perfect" comes to mind. And so do homes like my friend's, where every nook and cranny catch my eye and are coordinated with care. There I find loving touches and a place to feel pampered—a rich, put-together environment I relish, but know I haven't the knack to provide.
That word "perfect" also can send me into antiseptic cleaning frenzies where I pile my kids' toys into their closets. I hide the overflow of books we love in their clothes drawers. And the huge train table must go to the garage.
Rather than perfect, "plain" sums up my home: a mixture of tile and carpet, the scarcest of window coverings and enough furniture to provide mix-and-match comfortable seating. Everything works. Everything is functional.
But there are words about home that make me smile. Words like "Daaaaaaddy's home!" from our children's lips as they jump up from their mountain of Lego's to greet my husband when he comes through the door.
I've come to terms with our dining-room-turned-play-space/class room. We knew we wouldn't have a formal dining room, so we tacked artwork on the walls, adopted a huge green calendar, and even taped my sons "sight words" and alphabet cards all over the wall.
Not only is no harm done, but much growing takes place in our would-be dining room. Learning—like the feel of a knobby puzzle piece as I admire my son's new ability to nestle a piece into its proper place. Memories of playing fish with a homemade rod, string and magnet collecting metal-backed letters as he learned his ABCs. Recollections of friends standing in that room, eating gooey, over frosted cake in honor of my children's birthdays. It's a room for becoming.
If our home says a lot about our tastes and budget, then I find our home also reflects our soul. If I know my home is deep-down OK, I can live fully there and invite others in—without feeling I'm not enough. If I know I'm really loved, I can recover from my own messes—such as the regret over reading e-mail instead of playing hide and seek "just one more time." I can start fresh and ask God to clean the inside of my life and make it beautiful, because I know the structure of the house is sound. And there's hope ahead that the decorating, overall, is improving.
I can relax in my home and in my skin, knowing it's more about who I'm becoming than about my plain-Jane style. I can even invite others in during the renovation. |
|
Keep track of us with Granny's Jack Booted
