Inspiration



“The only artist who is perfect in all forms of creativity – in technique, in originality, in knowledge of the past and future, in versatility, in having perfect content to express as well as perfect expression of content, in having perfect truth to express as well as perfect expression of truth, in communicating perfectly the wonders of all that exists as well as something about Himself, is of course God – the God who is Personal.”

-Edith Schaeffer The Hidden Art of Homemaking (quoted in The Reluctant Entertainer by Sandy Coughlin ) Last night I felt captivated by the wonder of the evening light as it slanted across the earth and kissed the tops of trees with gold.  I am in awe of our Heavenly Father’s use of light and color, how the light saturates already perfect colors and creates in them a brilliance that takes my breath away.

Each morning I watch breathlessly as the first shafts of sunlight cut through the morning clouds, their angles sharp and bold as they glance off mountains and across the valley.

This morning my heart is full of gratitude for an infinitely creative God, full of thanks for the privilege of witnessing even the smallest portion of that creativity.  I am grateful for eyes to see and for the yearning I feel when I watch these beauties unfold.  My own feeble efforts at creative expression are not even elementary in comparison with His greatness, yet His love for us shines through his artistry with such brilliance that I feel compelled to press on.


Each year I keep a gratitude list during this season of Thanksgiving.   A simple (and common) exercise, it never fails to remind me that, far from being a scarce and rarely tasted drink, I’m swimming in abundance.  God’s simple gifts are as plentiful as the air I breathe so thoughtlessly.  My list helps enlarge my heart and remove the scales from my eyes.   This year I have decided to log it on Hopeful Homemaker.  You can find it at the top of my right hand sidebar where I’ll be adding to it daily.  If you haven’t already, I hope you’ll start one too.

What are you grateful for today?
How might expressing that gratitude affect your day?

Hopeful Homemaker

Victory Candles

Many years ago I read about something one mother did to celebrate the little victories in the life of her family.


She kept a candle on her kitchen table, called a victory candle, and on days when a family member had accomplished something noteworthy, they lit the victory candle and talked about the achievement.  She wrote about how her children would come home from school sometimes saying, “We need to light the victory candle tonight!”

I’ve tried to do this over the years, but for some reason my husband and children haven’t really latched onto the idea of lighting a victory candle.

I light them anyway, but  they have come to represent a different sort of victory for me.

On the days when we’re running crazy, when I’m not very organized, when the meal isn’t what I wish it was, when the children seem at odds with one another, I light the victory candles.  Yes, I light them on the days when it most feels like we’re losing the battles of life.

I light them to help myself pause and celebrate what we’re doing.  In spite of exhaustion, chaos, or just the lateness of the hour, we are having family dinner. We are gathered at the table to pray, eat and talk together.  And that is a victory.

So on the nights when my failures are the most glaring, I turn down the lights and we eat dinner by candle light.  It brings a mood to the table that fills in the gaps and helps smooth over my inefficiencies.  Instead of sitting at the  table feeling like a failure, this simple act allows me to sit at the table and say to myself, “We are doing it.  We are having  family dinner.  We are being consistent.  This is a victory.”

It’s my simple strategy for fighting off the feelings of discouragement that come knocking at my heart on the  tough days.  And it  helps, it really does, which makes it a victory all over again.

Candles, anyone?

Hopeful Homemaker

Flashback

I was sitting across the table from my little guy while he worked on writing some of his letters.  We’re working on learning all the letters in his first name.


As I watched him work on letters, then scribble, then go back to his efforts, I was suddenly reminded of another little boy doing the same thing years ago.  Unexpected tears pricked at my eyes as I thought of my second son at age four, sitting at the kitchen table with pen and paper, the same blond hair and the same smile pulling at his mouth, the same sunlight filtering into the room.  I thought of that second son and remembered hearing him walk into the kitchen behind me recently.  His walk sounded heavy, like his oldest brother, and I realized how fast he’s growing.


I looked back at my four year old with new appreciation.  With all the curve balls this little guy throws at us, I sometimes shake my head and wonder.  Moments like this remind me of his sweetness and desire to be good.  They also remind me how quickly this mischievous little smile will change as he grows.  And I think, “I love this.”

I’m so grateful to be a mother.

Jennifer

1 85 86 87 88 89 146