Strike While the Mood is Hot*

Honestly, I'm not as tidy as I wish I were. In fact, my initials already spelling M.E.S. is a bit of an omen for how neat I keep things half the time. But every once in a while I actually act upon my desire to have a neater, more organized house, and recently, the creative mood crossed paths with the tidy mood and gave birth to this:

Now, don't get me wrong: it really is just a tube of fabric with ribbons at each end to hold my abundance of plastic bags that my roommate and I seem incapable of throwing away, but this plain little tube is something that we have needed for months. I have been putting off making it, whether from perfectionism, or lack of time, or lack of motivation, or just from the fact that the laundry room door stays closed most of the time, so why should I be concerned that one shelf looks like this:

What you can't see in the above picture is that there was also a pile of bags in the floor and another pile that had fallen on top of the washer. Like I said, we may have a bag problem. 

But I rolled up my sleeves, donned my 1950's housewife kerchief, and went to work, allowing myself to let go of the idea that a tube to hold my trash bags had to somehow be a work of art that I spent hours on. 

And in less than an hour, including the stops I made for music, brownies, hunting for fabric, pulling out my sewing machine and waiting for the iron to heat up, I had successfully turned this: 

Into something useful. 

That's important to me. I followed my creative spirit, rather than letting myself get hampered by the idea of imperfection. 

Which means I'm keeping better track of my New Years Resolutions than I might have thought. 

So, strike while the mood is hot - let your creativity flow into something useful or beautiful or simply fun - and don't let fear hold you back. 

*This statement does not apply to pretty much any emotions of passion, including rage, malice and lust.

Wonderment Daily

I think I keep waiting for the "perfect" thing to blog about. If my words are going to be out for people to read, well, then I guess they ought to be deep and profound, right?

But here's the thing: being alive is deep and profound. The concept baffles everyone, everywhere - no matter their religion, social status, country of birth or mother tongue: "I am alive - and that means something. Not sure what most of the time, but it does." Isn't that what we all think?

So my pursuit of the perfect blog topic is rather silly - when I've got crazy amounts of real life just slipping through my fingers untyped.

Take today, for instance. I can't say today was one of those life changing God experiences where I am stunningly aware of my place in creation and His power over my life. Actually, today was, well, pretty mundane. I got up and ate breakfast, drank a cup of my dad's good coffee, took a shower and washed dishes. I made curtains and exercised and went shopping. I did normal, everyday, routine stuff.

There's a verse in 1 Thessalonians 4 that says:

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you. 

I'm not going to lie: I don't always like that verse. Sometimes - maybe even a lot of the time - I want a loud life, one that is full of bold days full of adventure.

But today, I made it my ambition to spend the day quietly - to look around for little ways to serve and to seek out ways to connect with my siblings.

I took my 15 year-old sister Eleanne driving in a parking lot. We chatted up turn signals and parking brakes, steering wheels and gas pedals. She even backed into a parking space and drove on a real road with double yellow lines. We made it up to 35 miles an hour - and neither of us died.

If riding in a car with a brand new driver isn't adventure, I'm not sure what is. But it was nails-in-the-seat-bite-lip-don't-focus-on-the-grass-on-the-passenger-side quiet adventure.

For dinner, my family and I sat on the porch and ate leftovers in the early fall weather - and I leaned against the house and looked out over our front lawn and watched my sister and my brother hold hands during the prayer and my dad and my baby sister Grace snuggle and chat on the front steps. 

The world there was quiet and we were minding our own business, leaving the business of others in the hands of God through prayer.

After dinner, I went on a bike ride with two of my brothers through the neighborhood across the street. The rumor is true: you never forget how to ride a bike. I would not however, recommend trying to ride with no hands after not having ridden in nine or so years. Seeing my brothers take turns leading the direction of our paths was something to smile about. They're growing into men and leaving boyhood behind them with grace. And my world was still there - quiet and peaceful - with the wind twirling my hair and the sound of pavement whirring under us.

When we all sat down together to read the bible, I traded foot rubs with my mom and listened to everyone read in their turn and my Dad talk about the text. I didn't read tonight - even though I usually do when I'm home with my family - I was quiet. And it was good.

Daily life isn't easy. Being caught up in the rituals of the mundane gets really, well, boring. You know, mundane?

But maybe there's something profound enough about being alive that's worth sitting quietly and minding our own business and working with our hands and enjoying the day that the Lord has made.

Maybe it's even something worth writing about.

To daily life - in all its boredom and wonderment!