home.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.

Psalm 84:5

Living overseas has deepened my idea of home.
The Bible clearly says that this world is not our home. Yet here we are; we get to live here for some eighty years more or less. And even if it's not perfect, it can be a wonderful place to be.

Our real home is with Christ. Hallelujah! Remembrance of which provides extreme solace for those who have no home, are removed temporarily, or whose home is involuntarily less than ideal. Even though we might get mighty comfortable here at times, it's really only a place we're passing through.

...Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.

Phil 3:20-21

Oh golly! Sometimes I feel like I just can't wait.

Still, while we're here we reflect our unique personhood in the ways we leave our mark on the people and places we touch. This could be good or bad, depending on the free will of the individual. As believers in Christ, we are God's people and so somehow, I think this means there should be something distinctive about the marks we leave on the world. But what does that mean? Mama Squirrel asked the question, "Is there a Christian "decorating" ideal? Or an "ideal" Christian decorating style? What do you think the inside of a Christian home should look like?"

Wow. I had never, ever thought of that before. I cannot think there would possibly be a plausible argument for only ONE ideal christian decorating style. However, there definitely are considerations we'd make as to figuring out whether or not our style, conscious or unconscious, is more worldly or more fitting with the Christian ideal. Which I think we could safely define simply as: to love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.

How we are, the way we appear to others, how we accomodate our homes, all reflect what is most important to us to one degree or another. Here are some questions I started asking myself to evaluate how much my style reflects the Christian ideal...

• Does your style honor the Lord? How?
  This can look VERY different as reflected by unique individuals.

• What does your style emphasize?
  Love...?
  Lavishness...?
  Laziness...?

• From the viewpoint of those who visit your home, what is evidently most important to you? How important are these same things to Christ?

• Would Jesus be comfortable here?
  Often this will have to do more with atmosphere, than style, but still. ;) He is a God of truth, beauty, goodness and order.

• He made us all unique and knows what each is capable of... are we doing our best?

• How does our current home remind us of our real Home?

Interesting thoughts. Worth a minute's reflection.
I encourage us to consider. :)


Pilgrim Heroes.
These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. (Hebrews 11:13)

A Pilgrim's Warning.
Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. (1 Peter 2:11)




This post has been ever so slightly to balance out my own jovial post here, about how we make our homes a reflection of us. Make sure to read the comments if you find the tone overly obnoxious. :) But also, because again, Mama Squirrel made me think. :)

This has been another reflective post on the fifth chapter of The Hidden Art of Homemaking, by Edith Schaeffer (if you grab it or one of the other books above from those there amazon links, I promise to be ever so grateful!) To read more posts from Cindy's online book club, click over for the linky.

hidden... leather, anyone? {chapter five}.

now if you had a hard time with doodling in the last chapter, i can't even begin to imagine your dismay at the idea of crafting your own furniture out of leather scraps. it could seem preposterous, and the idea of such makes me laugh out loud!

ahahahahah! it is a beautifully comical thing to me.

okay, so not every homemaker aspires to make their own furniture. {i'm still laughing.}

however, the whole DIY idea is very fashionable amongst the masses and i actually LOVE inventing and making things around my own home. even if it doesn't include leather scraps. i even took wood shop in highschool. i made myself a bookshelf. obviously. what could be more useful?!

so, i guess it's not the idea of making useful stuff all. by. itself. for the home that strikes me as over the top, but the whole leather scrap section. now, those of you who have actually tried your hand with leather will probably not find this as humorous as i do. but to inexperienced me, pieced together leather furniture just seems so unrealistic.

HOWEVER. there are a lot of home improvement personalization projects, similar in scope, that WOULD interest me. and if you want to see some of those have a look at my 'i will do it myself' pinterest board which will prove it. :)

matter of fact, today, i am wiling and scheming to figure out a door latching system that will keep our deviant dog out of danger, or should i say keep our precious possessions out of the path of his perpetual perniciousness. read yesterday's uncharitable post if you remain unconvinced of the direness of this situation. of course, this is not interior decoration, but PROTECTION of the same.

can you tell i am still recovering from recent rage?

:)

okay, on to the true spirit and inspiration of this chapter: interior decorating.

i love things to be nice and orderly and beautiful. i love colors and shapes. and i insist on things being functional.

does this mean my home is perpetually well decorated? um, well no. i could blame that on living overseas, or moving a lot and living out of suitcases or boxes. both of which are good reasons. but what it comes down to is, it takes time, thought and effort to personalize a place. not a lot, but at least a little bit of each. and depending on the stage of life we're in, any one or all of these three might be at a premium. still, we can make little efforts, right? i'm going to list the very seemingly insignificant yet absolutely essential things that over the years have helped me make this place (wherever and whatever shape that's been) a home.

table centerpiece.
because of the nature of children and the constant variable of washing possibilities, i have never been a big proponent of cloth table coverings. but a centerpiece works for me. something that is pleasing to my eye. this has included something as simple as a jar with flowers, a plate of cool rocks or leaves, glasses with candles, a seasonal table runner... i'm relatively easy to please. but i work hard at keeping that a visually pleasing focal point.




colors.
i have always had theme colors. short after birth (or before!), each baby is assigned a color, and usually each room of the house also has it's color (i have been known to go to great lengths to use contact paper to conceal offending off color kitchen tiles...). we are infamous amongst ourselves for naming our bathrooms by the color tile they sport. this whole color coding way of life has helped us immensely to maintain identity when we move. no matter where kids stay, their place is ostentatiously theirs because LOTS of their belongings are identifiable their color. orange in the case of siah, pink and yellow wherever the girls go and green and blue mark the spot where the big boys land. now, that kind of control or predictability might annoy some folks, but it has been our preserving grace.




soft lights.
white twinkly lights and candles can do a lot to bathe rough and ugly places in shadow.



now, while these things have been lifesaving in our migrant lifestyle, surely they can still be a starting spot for a stationary style as well, albeit very simplistic. if we'd had the fun of living in our own home since the start, i can't even imagine how many personalized projects we would have purposed and put in place by now... i wonder if we'll be able to improve on our heavenly mansions? now, that we're in a more situated spot than ever before, i am excited by the plethora of prospects for personalization. just see my pinterest board 'dwell' for all the ideas spinning around in my head!! ;)


words that resonate:

"continuity is important. to have familiar things around us is to feel 'at home'."

"we have sensitivity and creativity in some measure and in the midst of carrying out the purpose God has for us - in the midst of sacrifice of them, money, luxury and self-indulgence, in the midst of putting God first and someone else second and self last - we can still have the fulfillments which help us to be balanced and whole creatures, rather than torn, lonely, unbalanced, splintered people. as human beings we do respond in certain ways to certain things as well as to other personalities, and God."

pics with some of my tricks over the years:




This has been a reflective post on the fifth chapter of The Hidden Art of Homemaking, by Edith Schaeffer (if you grab it or one of the other books above from those there amazon links, I promise to be ever so grateful!)

To read more posts from Cindy's online book club, click over for the linky.

dealing with uncharitable-ness.

while i think the title of this post would make terrific subject matter for a really meaty post, today, as it relates to a dog in disfavor, you will be only treated to the bare bones: some few pictures and some few words. this is due in part to my own feelings of extreme uncharitableness.

it's become sort of a family joke that i play favorites with the dogs. of course it's completely the dogs' own doing. we have one nice, composed, noble-ish dog. and then there's the other one. he's the ultra-destroyer-of-everything-in-sight and generally more the stick-his-nose-where-it-doesn't-belong annoying type, only slightly helped by the fact that he's still cute. but cuteness only goes so far.

here he is a couple of weeks ago...


rather audacious, wouldn't you say?
the pictures truly don't do it justice. for no apparent reason except that he appears to think he should get attention, he does this. he regularly just barges up onto the couch, and tries to sit people style. he is such a dork.

a week ago, the day after micah left for this latest river trip, he broke out of his kennel (and destroyed the nice latching gate thereof that micah scrambled to fix at the last minute). last night, he threw up. and today? he did this.

he totalled the zipper, headphones, kindle charger and poor julius.

thankfully, we caught him b4 my EHD was rendered useless (w/ all my pics!)

he is no longer the 'other dog', meaning, the less favored one. he has brought himself under my full wrath so to speak, as it was no longer flip-flops, rubber boots, wooden chess set, food off the table/counters, plants (including orchids!!! which brought me close to a full boil). today it was my laptop case, my earphones, external hard drive, kindle charger... ARGH! he snatched it right off the dining room table and snuck out the door to wreak his havoc. he is such a deviant.

he's lucky he stopped there and didn't snag my kindle. he would have been instant chopped liver FOR SURE.

so what does one do with a seemingly dud dog?
more importantly, how does one deal with these less than charitable thoughts and feelings toward the same?

is he my neighbor?

i'm just going to say that i think pets may serve to show hidden places still in need of character development.

oh, and the worst part? all those years of effort to maintain 'stupid' as a forbidden word in my children's vocabulary...? gone.

hidden artist: {painting, sketching, sculpturing... oh my!} chapter four.

Can you just hear her say, "Please, don't judge me by my art skills.  Stay right there, not a step closer, if you please"?


I appreciate Edith's perspective in this chapter. I think it is very realistic and for that reason, encouraging in the extreme.

She talks about the value of our creativity as expressed in paint, lines or clay as not based on whether or not our art is displayed in prestigious galleries or having received great accolades from all the most famous art critics. I'm glad about that. I would probably find that slightly stressful. How 'bout you?

Now that I know there will be no great stakes placed on my art, {phew! I feel kinda glad that the pressure's off} I can relax a little and play around and maybe even come up with something that is pleasing to me and mine. I can doodle for my kids (they are impressed with my silly figures and sometimes even a little bit jealous... but I tell them, it's only because I've had more practice! they will soon be overtaking me in skill), I can make my home beautiful (beholden to mine own eye...;), and when I feel the need, I can even carve out time to venture out into scary waters and try something new!

Of course, there's a little for everyone in this chapter, I've tried most of the things she listed, and would probably have no interest in the other things, but it'll all be up to the individual according to talent and whim. An important point she made was: Start somewhere. Yep. I think this is key. And of course, that's gonna look different for everybody.

I will admit, I was not at all disappointed that she didn't spend much time on sculpture, since it seems FAR beyond my abilities and interest. Either way, like it or not, we will be giving this a try for handicrafts this coming year... and who knows? Maybe we'll discover another area of hidden art?! ;)

Takeaways:
Take pens or colored pencils along to add a personal touch to ANYTHING really. Notes & lists especially. (Nowadays, in our paperless electronic world, this is changing... is this why more and more people are wanting to add art to their bodies?! hmmm...)

Speaking about digital, I thought about how we can make things pretty and personal with fonts, digital photos and a printer (or even keeping it digital). I've done a lot of that. I've designed, printed off menu plans, a family hymnal, schedules. I've personalized chore charts and cards and all kinds of things really with or relating to the kiddos.

Draw stories for kids. She focused rather particularly on sermon notes. Potentially, I can see myself doing this, at least I did it when I was young. However, thinking again, it might require more attention than this tired, sometimes-grumpy-on-Sunday momma could lend to an entire hour long sermon! Now, please don't feel the need to tell everyone that I am in fact sometimes a big fat meanie, oh, um, make that, grumpy on Sundays, despite the apparent novelty. I am in fact probably the only mother you have ever heard of who is extremely carnal in this way. Lord, help us.

Ahem.

I do like illustrating things on the dry erase board when we have math story problems or Spanish lessons or what have you. But, please, when the time comes, I'm afraid I'll rather not show my sculpey clay creations!! :)

I think her best point in the whole chapter was this one:

“There is no need to lock up this capacity for expression because you have not been able to make a career of it. Develop it for your own sake, for the enrichment of the lives of those you live with, and as an unconscious spark to set fire to other dry wood, other creative creatures on a finite level.”

Amen!

So, a few thoughts in closing. I think we need to admit, that sometimes our paralysis resulting from a feeling of inadequacy or fear of failure is really a poor excuse to not try something. The stakes are just not that high! What are we risking? The cost of markers and paper? A printer cartridge? We might even go as far as to call such restraint selfishness. Maybe we don't want to try because we are afraid of what others will think or we don't want to risk failure in our own eyes... let's stop the silliness, think outside ourselves and when opportunities arise, let's use whatever is in our pencil boxes to add personality and color to the lives of the people around us!

Here are a few of my projects which display a range of skill, effort or lack thereof. 

:blush:

As I tried to round up some of my silly schoolish sketches that I've done for my kids, I began to realize just how much implementing a Charlotte Mason education has SERIOUSLY influenced me and my artistic ventures. As Cindy mentioned in her post, I have found the deepest satisfaction with our nature studies & journaling. I didn't realize how much of an impact all this had had 'til I started looking through my photos taken over the years. Even my courage to venture out musically is due in large part to CM. Because I SO wanted music, art and nature study's benefits for my kids, I was able to look right past my own fears and feelings of inadequacy, to helping them on their way!  Gotta start somewhere, right? Interesting...

Helpful books:
As I began thinking of teaching my kids how to draw (remember my extreme aversion to art class? well, I had not drawn or painted in all seriousness since grade school that I can remember), I needed to figure out where to start or what to do so that they didn't end up inheriting the same fear of artistic expression as I had at that time. The following two books were of IMMENSE help not only in figuring out how to guide them on a basic path, but also to help myself venture out. I've read both of these in their entirety. I highly recommend the first and the second was very helpful as well...


This has been a reflective post on the fourth chapter of The Hidden Art of Homemaking, by Edith Schaeffer (if you grab it or one of the other books above from those there amazon links, I promise to be ever so grateful!)

To read more posts from Cindy's online book club, click over for the linky.

hidden music. {chapter three}

“There is really no need for a background of music school, or acceptance into a good orchestra as violinist, or public acclaim as a concert pianist, or even an invitation to play in church, in order to fulfil one's capacity in music... The talent, no matter how small and hidden, can be developed.”

Edith Schaeffer, Chapter 3, Music. Hidden Art

Ever since I can remember, my mom had a piano. Which seems natural doesn't it, since my grandpa was a piano tuner and all? I remember being fascinated; tinkering around and plunking keys, squeezing the pedals down with all my might and getting my fingers pinched in the somewhat hefty, lifty-up garage door thing, that banged down overtop the keys.

I had heard my mom play, so I knew it could be done, but teach myself I could not. I even tried on several occasions. My parents' hesitation when considering piano lessons is understandable. It's an investment and I am quite sure I would have been excited for every one of the first forty-five minutes of the first lesson before being ready to give it up forever the next day. Most likely, I would have annoyed them by resisting their urges to daily practice and bemoaned the injustice of it all; you know, all the normal kid stuff. While I'm pretty sure I never would've become a master musician, I'm just as sure it's about 1,623 times easier to learn in childhood when learning is the task at hand than as an adult with cares and responsibilities piled mile high. Back then, I wished I could learn to play, but now I REALLY wish I had. I lament all those years of missed trial and error, training in self-discipline and safe self-expression.

Still, is it ever too late?!
That's right. Recently a very generous person told me to give myself another 30 years before calling myself old. Thank you very much.

As scary as it is to say out loud, I still want to learn. And it is scary, because I am still kinda afraid of failing at it. But by golly, I've got children of my own now, who despite my warnings, beggings and pleadings will not stay children. It has been seven whole years ago since we paid for those first lessons and it's been six and a half since the last one. Time is passing on... someone's got to inspire them to give it a try before they've flown away... so, the plan is, since we STILL haven't found a piano instructor (we're open to local suggestions), we will be attempting to learn piano this coming year together; anyone who wants to, but most especially I and my eldest, who like me sings but plays no instrument (except self-taught harmonica, does that count? Yes, you can read that again, harmonica. I too stand amazed).

Now, after reading this post you might think I'm weird. Or off-balance. And you very well could be right. But, the reason I am so determined we be at least slightly musical? Because, even a minute amount of musical appreciation and talent – or, in the absence of talent, basic knowledge – provide potential for enrichment of family life, ministry, and personal expression; both right this minute and in the years to come. And Edith Schaeffer didn't have to tell me that. I already knew.

Did I mention that I started teaching myself basic guitar? Ahem. Well, all that started back in 2010. I've practiced some, but clearly not enough. I really have some hurdles to overcome before I can advance further. I'm kinda stuck with a pathetic strumming problem... Alas, that and I practically have to wrestle for a chance to touch MY guitar. My second son is getting to be quite the aficionado.

I find this chapter almost funny in light of my last post in which I shared my misgivings about my singing abilities and my fear of utter expression failure. I promise, I hadn't read ahead! If only I had read ahead about 20 years ago. Perhaps that could have made a difference!


::

What musical headway are you making in an attempt to enrich the lives around you?

::



This has been a reflective post on the third chapter of The Hidden Art of Homemaking, by Edith Schaeffer (if you grab it from that there amazon link, I promise to be ever so grateful!)

To read more posts from Cindy's online book club, click over for the linky.

i am definitely getting older.

Have I mentioned lately, that I have started playing indoor soccer again? Well, I've gone twice now. The first time I almost fainted from exertion, but had a grand ol' time. And today, before the games began, I pulled both of my quads. No, sadly, I am not joking. Not in the slightest. I may have even pulled my groin, but I'm not telling. It doesn't seem proper.

So.

This means several things.

I am getting older.

I am out of shape.

I need to fully weigh the consequences of all future indoor soccer type actions. It is because I am in pain that I think of this. Before I started playing, I thought nothing of the potential consequences. To my own detriment.

Another point of interest is, that my two sons are my teammates. Sweet, huh? Heheh.
Thankfully, they are not utterly embarrassed of their mother. Yet. Or at least they haven't said so. God bless them.
Javen has even said on several different occasions, "Mom, you were good! And I don't think he was trying to butter me up, either. Either way, it felt good. SO good I thought, 'Well, I'll really show him today...' and boy did I. I acted every bit my age.

NO. I did not take pictures.

Well, I've been so long out of the sports scene that I had no idea what to do with my aging and ailing body, so of course I googled and had a quick spin around pinterest.

Here are the important bits:

While this stretch looks exceeding dangerous, the suggested reading links on that page were actually helpful.
Here's what to do if you're thirty-five, happen to pull both quad muscles, have a suspect groin and hope to someday walk again.

• Note to self: strengthen those muscles AND make sure to warm up and stretch.

On pinterest, I saw this very long and complicated yoga session and thought, if I could do this, I'd probably never, ever have any health problems again. Ever. Just you wait and see, now.

my hidden art: {chapter two}

“Each person, I believe, has some talent which is unfulfilled in some 'hidden area' of his being, and which could be expressed and developed.”

(pg 31)

This was me. If I had even a glimmer of talent, I hid it deep down where it'd be safe. I had no intention of expressing and exposing places so fragile and easily bruised. Safeness procured also meant, under developed...

I was desperately afraid to fail.

I remember quailing at the thought of art class. It seemed a most dreadful and unnecessary exposure of oneself and I couldn't get over the many times I'd tried to draw something not at all resembling what I had in my head. It looked messy. The year I changed schools, I tried out for choir only one time and was so deflated not to have made the cut (it was widely known the teacher didn't need any altos that year), I wouldn't muster the courage to ever try again. Matter of fact, ever since that day, I have always second guessed myself and my singing abilities. The whole 'science fair' idea evoked a general sense of terror, that and any other kind of individualized competition, and somehow I managed to graduate never having participated in one.

Don't remind me of the year we went to State in cheerleading when I messed up multiple times in our floor routine. Yes, I did. Big time. Did I mention it was multiple times? Thankfully, for my squad's sake, the Lord must have blinded the judges, because we still took first. I was so thankful for that, not because I wanted so badly to win, but those fragile places would like as not have been obliterated under the sheer weight of embarrassment afterwards.

It was much easier to stick to the things I was good at. Thankfully, there were some. ;)

Still, for many years, I've drawn pictures in my head and longed to fill them with watercolor. That, and I've always told myself that if I could play an instrument, then I'd sing publicly because I wouldn't have to just stand there empty-handed and awkward. I knew I probably could learn one. But, I feared having to give up and plus, I had no idea where to begin.

And wouldn't you know it? I've always wanted to write. I tried once when I was in fourth grade. I started a story about a boy who lived in the African desert. He had a camel. Obviously. I think his name was Sam. And then it ended, because I couldn't think of a single other thing to write. I didn't write another word after that, apart from school assignments (which I recall included at least one agonized poem), for a very long time; until I started journalling some years later. But then again, I didn't consider that real writing.

I was paralyzed by fear of finding out that I wouldn't be any good at the things I wanted so badly to be able to do. Or that I would try to express myself and that what came out would be all twisted and ugly.

Fast forward to the days of enlightenment as I began to teach my children. I'm not sure when or how it happened, but I found myself modeling the confidence I wanted them to enjoy. Maybe I was afraid of them ever having to feel debilitated the way I did? I sang to them when they were babies, and I never once worried about my voice. I photographed them, drew them pictures, read to them and never once did they criticize me. Matter of fact, they told me I was good.

Hidden things were being brought to light.

“All art involves conscious discipline. If one is going to paint, do sculpture, design a building or write a book, it will involve discipline in time and energy – or there would never be any production at all to be seen, felt or enjoyed by ourselves or others. ...The question is one of priorities.”

(p.32)

Over the years, because of a belief in the fundamental importance of a liberal education for all, a sense of freedom, and courage for growth inspired by a safe environment, I've taught myself basic guitar (need. to. practice.), tried watercolor which was love at first stroke and wrote a blog post every. single. day. for. a. whole. year. These tremulous attempts have in turn inspired one son to teach himself guitar, another to branch out in his own artistic expression, and garnered a lot of positive feedback and mutual encouragement from people who read my blog.

It was my renaissance.

Still, sometimes under extreme circumstances we scuttle back to the stark simplicity of the Dark Ages. For me, it was too much stress resulting from lots of travel and health issues and life pressures and culture adjustments and readjustments and substantial personal loss and moving and construction and significant relational strain; all of which had me staggering and gasping for breath. For many a day, I walked under a heavy shadow, my only sustenance, the surety that the Sun still shone on the other side and therefore sunny days must come again too. Someday.

There is a time for everything. We adjust priorities, and out of necessity we exclude the excess. It's not that it necessarily had to be that way. I am confident that had I fully exposed myself to and been more obedient to the Lord, it could have been easier. I resisted. I felt afraid. So I hid. And I stayed on the misty flats. It was a choice. But wait, that's all part of another story. Suffice it to say, I've learned something about trials and trust.

Little by little, as things have finally settled down, the curtain of fog has lifted and I've been able to find time and energy for creativity once again. The art part of me that once was hidden, uncovered, and later forsaken, is once again pulsing with a deep sense of longing... a fresh desire for glimpses of God.

And it's almost too bright to even look.


Somehow creating helps my deep spots to echo with God. Meditation, reflection and writing bring my mind into focus, making and appreciating beauty recalls the all Beautiful One, music and singing a key that opens my heart gate wide so the King of Glory may come in.

Once again, the Lord is teaching me to measure my limits by whether or not I can maintain a certain level of creativity under a corresponding amount of strain. It's a delicate balance. I mess up everyday.
But then again, I'm still learning...

Sometimes creativity is messy...

I'm still waiting to see the final product!

:)


No more 'If only's'.
Begin to live artistically.
Use talents to enrich the lives of other people.


This has been a reflective post on the second chapter of The Hidden Art of Homemaking, by Edith Schaeffer (if you grab it from that there amazon link, I promise to be ever so grateful!)
To see more online book club posts, click over to Cindy's for the linky.