89. Plain, Mundane, and Common

December 10, 2013September 1, 2015 / Apple Hill Cottage / Leave a comment

My inbox is filling up with Christmas ideas:

The emotions are mixed on this folks, because I’m just not there…

Perhaps I could put our three trees in this corner? corner of living room

And hang the gigantic glitter snowflakes right here in the middle of these new windows where all cars passing by can see them?

New insulation surround new living room windows

Maybe we could decorate the ladder with pretty white lights?

Alas, instead of putting up Christmas trees, we are putting up pink fluffy stuff in the walls; instead of squirting cans of snow on the tree, we are squirting cans of foam around cracks and holes; instead of plugging in gigantic glittery snowflakes we are adding electrical outlets to the walls — every six feet, of course, to meet code…

Our twenty foot living room wall has gone from shivering, bare studs

to a warm blanket of pink

to a coordinating crazy quilt coverlet of pink and green.

You’ll also notice two of the four new outlets — for future gigantic glittery snowflakes, no doubt. (Actually my taste runs more to stars than flakes, but that’s another post…)

No glitter this year — just the plain, the mundane, and the common stuff of ordinary life.

Like one simple candle in the window instead of strings of lights; like quiet time spent reading Isaiah instead of Pinterest; like consciously focusing thought on the Savior in the ordinary manger, not Christmas wrappings and trappings; like looking very hard to find the UNordinary in the mundane happenings of everyday.

Snow clouds and blue sky

The God who came as a poor common man instead of the expected king turned the world upside down in part because of his humble origins, in part because he turned the common into uncommon: Water into wine, sin into forgiveness, dark into light, the cross — a horrible symbol of death — into the ultimate symbol of life.

I’m memorizing Isaiah 53:1-7 for the Christmas worship at our church. Every day I say it a dozen times or more, so I can know it. Say it with no mistakes. And at least once a day it moves me to tears of gratitude and remorse for what one common uncommon man-God did for me. For you.

He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him; nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering… but he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all…

the people who walked in darkness... May ~~you~~ we take time for quiet reflection in the midst of this busy season. May ~~you~~ we find the blessings in that mundane uneventful day, and may ~~you~~ we find the uncommon light of the Savior in the dark of December.

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.