39. The Gift of a House

December 16, 2012January 20, 2016 / Apple Hill Cottage / 3 Comments

Sometimes I wonder how in the world we ended up with two houses. Especially at this time of year. We still mostly live at the city house. It’s where work is. It’s where the mortgage is. It’s where old friends are. But it isn’t necessarily where the heart is. I wonder about that. I miss seeing friends. We just resigned from our church — our life for eight years — because we are never there on weekends, and it is a loss.. And neighbors — I’m never in the yard working on my flowers or garden, so I don’t see them anymore.

The city house is really much more beautiful. It’s a stone Tudor with character, a cottage with a wildish flower garden out front. It was the house of my dreams when we bought it eight years ago. I still love it. But, my heart isn’t there anymore.

I am fractured sometimes.
Split down the middle.
Anxious to go.
Hesitant to make the move.

No Christmas tree this year. Where would we put it? The house where we are? Or the house where we aren’t?

So I have pine at both houses…

Christmas in the country

Thankful for these blessings, I try to be mindful of them and not see any of it as burdensome. Yet the details are exhausting sometimes. We are always on the move, not here, not there. And we always forget something. Or two somethings…

Christmas in the city

I am reminded by Matthew that where my treasure is, there my heart will be. (Mt. 6:9 — I went to check the citation and discovered it quickly; it was underlined in red pen.) I mustn’t fret, but wait on God’s timing. This country house was such a gift and the circumstances of it make me, make us, sure that God is doing a new thing here in my life, in our lives. We just aren’t clear what it is yet. And I’m not getting any younger, God…

I know, I know. Patience. Preparation. Waiting. ‘Tis the season.

38. Fighting the Lesser Gods

December 11, 2012July 9, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 6 Comments

We spent too much on a kitchen faucet two weeks ago. I am suffering from Buyer’s Remorse.

Our beautiful new brushed stainless steel kitchen faucet

I’ve been trying to excuse it. I’ve been rationalizing it by telling myself that we have saved $$ on so much else for the kitchen by buying at restores, redoing old stuff, and repurposing other stuff. Hmm, the key words here are much and stuff…

I’ve been telling myself that it is a quality faucet, and it will last forever. After all, it has a ceramic cartridge, it is made of stainless steel, and it won’t rust. Hmm, the key words here are quality and forever.

It’s difficult to be rehabbing a kitchen and trying to fight that impulse of materialism. The two just don’t go together. I can get caught up in the look I want; the colors I want; the type of flooring I want. The key words here are pretty obvious…I want.

I want much quality stuff forever…

We’ve been trying to be thrifty and balanced — nothing outlandishly pricey or ostentatious. Simple even. After all, there are people living in tents in Haiti; in huts in Malawi; in tenements in this very city. (Remember those starving people in China who would have eaten those peas I wouldn’t eat as a kid?)

Last week I was cleaning out my home library and found this:

I don’t know where it came from, but I saved it. And I found it again at a time when I needed to be reminded.

In this time of gross materialism (I mean Christmas, but it could just as well be any time here in 21st century America) we all need to be reminded. It is not about stuff, even quality stuff, even quality stuff that lasts forever. Because as Jesus reminds us, the earthly treasures rust and get moth-eaten — yes, even stainless steel faucets. The forever treasures are what we need to want; those are what last.

I was ~~reminded~~ convicted again yesterday when I read my morning devotions. Sarah Young writes in Jesus Calling:

I carefully crafted your longings and feelings of incompleteness, to point you to Me. Therefore, do not try to bury or deny these feelings. Beware also of trying to pacify these longings with lesser gods: people, possessions, power.

God carefully created us to long for Him. There is a hole in our human hearts that can only be filled by Him. And instead we fill it with stuff, work, family, lovers and mates, hobbies, eating, shopping, sports, even church — you pick one (or two or three…)

These things are not necessarily bad unless they become replacements for God — Lesser Gods. I don’t know about you, but I fight those lesser gods all the time.

When I win, I can feel Jesus smiling on the person who struggles to be like him and sometimes manages a shadow of His presence.

When I lose, He gently reminds me how imperfect I am. And His gift of grace that covers me is the softest blanket on a cold night.

Yes, it is a beautiful faucet. We own it. I will be happy with it. I will touch it every day, and it will shine as a reminder of my imperfection. And in return, it will remind me to give graciously and joyfully to someone in need. I can’t make up for my greed; I can’t be vindicated for my materialistic sin, but every time I look at that faucet, I can remember.

It will remind me of my blessings.

It will remind me that I have the ability to share those blessings.

It will remind me that there are people without faucets, without clean water, without living water…and what am I going to do about it?

I am going to give. One person at a time.

Books to remind us about Simple Living and Giving:

Crazy Love by Francis Chan
The Hole in our Gospel by Richard Stearns
Loving the Way Jesus Loves by Phil Ryken
One Thousand Gifts by Ann VosKamp
Radical by David Platt
Love Walked Among Us by Paul Miller

30. A Stillness in Time

October 16, 2012January 20, 2016 / Apple Hill Cottage / 11 Comments

I’ve been experimenting with black and white photography these past two weeks. Perhaps it is a bit ironic that as autumn’s colors are at its most glorious, I’m choosing black and white. It could be that my camera can’t capture the beauty of fall; but I think it is more of a mood. I hear friends say how much they love fall and its coolness, but I miss the sun and the warm. The last gasp beauty of the bright, God-painted trees can’t make up for the gray, cold rain.

Is it just the absence of color that creates the different moods of black/white/gray photos? Is it the lack of color that makes the observer focus on form, line, and shape? What gives the dreamlike, still, unearthly qualities to black and white photography?

As I was reading about the feelings that black & white photos evoke, one phrase keeps rumbling in my mind — that it creates a sense of stillness in time. Being here at the cottage does that for me as well, so the two have merged in this post. It is a stillness, a peace, a quietude that is not in my “other” life. It is almost as if time is standing still when we are here.

There is something else that a black and white photo implies — simplicity. I’m not sure why… Is it because it reminds us of a simpler time? Or is it that the colors don’t get in the way of what we see? Details and shadows all become clear, yet at the same time, shrouded in mystery…a metaphor for life, for God.

Life is simplified here at the cottage: work and jobs are left behind; meetings and responsibilities are rare; we don’t have much technology, just our cell phones and a television to watch Steeler games. We are focused on here, today, now, and what we have to accomplish — our purpose, for now. To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.–Ecclesiastes 3:1.

In Mere Christianity C.S. Lewis writes,

The moment you wake up each morning, all your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists in shoving it all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other, larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in.

Simplicity,
Stillness of time,
Season of quiet,
Circle of life,
Listening to that other voice —
Black and white photos fit Apple Hill Cottage well.