Golden Wheat

Last night I made a quick trip to my local thrift store looking for something specific.  Naturally, I didn’t find it, but I did find this:


It was the pattern that made me stop.  A picture of golden wheat on each plate:


My mind’s eye automatically pictured a few treasured pieces of vintage Madeira linen I had at home.
This wheat pattern I have in a set of four placemats.  The detail on them is intricate and lovely.  I marvel that someone spent countless hours placing each stitch by hand.


But this is the piece the china reminded me of most.  A Marghab piece in the New Wheat pattern.  Breathtaking.


In my ultimate Thanksgiving dreams I would have 30 of these placemats to serve Thanksgiving dinner on.  The pattern is so simple and sophisticated.  I love it.

And so I stood there, pondering the china, reflecting on the timeless symbol of golden wheat and how aptly it communicates appreciation for simple things:  for sustenance, for harvests, for the beauty of the earth.  I turned one over.


22 karat gold!  Usually I’m not interested in gold, but my heart quickly made an exception.  I counted the pieces.  Twenty-eight in all.  Twenty-eight pieces of china for $18.  They came home with me.


Later that night I stood at my kitchen sink and carefully washed each piece.  I noticed how the gold has largely washed off many of the dinner plates, leaving only a hint of the shine that once graced each rim.  I noticed stains on a few, and scratches on the wheat image in some places.  I couldn’t help but wonder about whose Thanksgiving table was graced, obviously many times, with these beautiful pieces.  I wondered at the memories the plates held, the family recipes they’ve seen, the conversations held around that table.


Part of me felt sad for whatever twist of fate sent this lovely stack of dishes to the thrift store.  Did someone pass away?  Did enough of them finally break that they no longer were used?   Why did no one want them?

My sister-in-law serves Thanksgiving dinner on her grandmother’s china.  Each year they are carefully washed by hand and stored lovingly.  I watch this ritual take place in honor of a wonderful woman, and feel a twinge of envy that no such heirloom will ever be mine.  I envy the act of remembrance it represents, not the dishes.  I look at my newly acquired china and wonder why no one wished to do the same with it.


I wish to.

My heart whispers a silent “thank-you” for the twist of fate that brought this treasure to my home, for the chance to use them tomorrow.  There aren’t enough for the large group we’re expecting, but we will use them for dessert.  The thought makes me smile.  It means that tomorrow night I get to stand again at my kitchen sink to carefully wash them as I reflect on the memories of the day.  Tomorrow these plates begin a new journey, gathering memories at my kitchen table to be carefully stored away until next year.

The thought makes me smile.  And would you believe there’s even sunshine outside?
Life is good.

Jennifer

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

Hospitality: A Pep Talk

As I mentioned, we’re hosting a gathering this weekend to celebrate our daughter’s baptism. It’s a wonderful thing, something we look forward to and which we will remember fondly when it’s all over.


I’ve done all my usual things.  I’ve dreamed up fabulous menus, thought of all kinds of pretty little finishing touches for everything from bathrooms to desserts, written a list of projects to finish that is longer than all the projects I’ve done this year.  There is no shortage of ideas in this head of mine!  As the weekend has drawn nearer, however, many items have been crossed off the list as reality sets in.  Last night the whole family joined in and helped to clean bedrooms and bathrooms.  The essential rises to the top and the nice-to-do settles to the bottom.

As I’ve done this, I’ve been pondering my little cycle of preparing for out of town company.  Why is it that I expect my perfect house, my perfect self to be ready for gatherings?  I know that it won’t really happen, but I impose the standard on myself anyway.  Why do I behave as if my house shouldn’t look like ten people live in it when ten people really do live here?  Why do I worry and stress when I know that it will all turn out fine, just as it’s done every time before this?
And what about the cost of stress for my family?


I want to live graciously.  I want to have  a gracious home, a gracious family, a gracious demeanor, a gracious smile.  I want my home to be a warm and happy place where people feel at peace.  I want to give thoughtfully, to entertain cheerfully, to live with a calm and happy heart.  And perhaps most importantly, I want to prepare for all these things graciously as well.

Sandy Coughlin wrote, “Gracious living is the butter on the warm bread of common life.”

Isn’t that beautiful?  Does it make you want to go bake some bread to share with a friend?  It does that to me.  It also reminds me that gracious living isn’t something I should focus on only when guests are expected; it’s something I should offer to my family every day.  People who are gracious make it look easy, but really they’ve worked at cultivating this talent.  It’s a talent I am determined to develop.


Sandy Coughlin is the author of the blog, Reluctant Entertainer , and earlier this year she published a book by the same title.
Having read her blog here and there, I purchased the book when it first came out, and for me it’s been a gem.  While many of her tips and tricks were things I already knew, I enjoyed it because she sounded real and down-to-earth.  I also enjoyed it because as I read the book ideas and insights were opened to my mind concerning how hospitality and graciousness relate to me as a mother in my relationships with my children.  Heavenly Father can use anything to teach us what we need to know.  I learned a great deal and wrote pages of notes.

“Hospitality is more about creating the right mood than the perfect piecrust,” she writes.  The key, in her opinion, is to seek excellence instead of perfection.  “Excellence is working toward an attainable goal that benefits everyone.”

It’s so easy to get it backwards, to think that we must create the perfect environment so that the right mood can prevail.  With all of my little ones I’m in a stage of life when the environment is far from perfect.  If I let my success hinge on that one thing alone, I cannot succeed, and there’s nothing that will destroy my mood faster than the feeling that I can’t succeed.  While having a tidy and presentable home is important, it is NOT more important than the feeling in my home.

Excellence, on the other hand, is win-win.  It blesses all of us.  Unlike perfection, excellence can be attained – not in all areas at all times, but in some.  Ultimately the secret to success and to graciousness is in “being relaxed and engaged when you greet your guests at the front door.”  Life is about people, relationships.


All these thoughts have paraded through my mind this week.  There have been moments of stress and moments of peace.  I look around my house this morning and see many loose ends to tie up.  I see fingerprints all over walls that I didn’t get to.  I also see a newly organized pantry and a guest room that is ready and waiting.  There is excellence in a few areas and great need in others.  I see three little ones who need me to be their mother in the midst of  all my daytime busy-ness.  I have simplified many plans and kept my sights set on one or two.

Most of all, I’m excited.  In a few hours someone will notice the car pulling up, and eight sets of feet will run from different parts of the house to greet grandparents who have sacrificed to spend a couple of days with us.  That  moment, the moment of pounding feet and noise converging on the front door is what it’s all about.

I look forward to greeting my parents, my brothers and sisters and others at the door with a smile on my face, ready to engage in the opportunity to make memories and build relationships.  My two year old said to me yesterday, “I don’t like when Grandma and Grandpa go.  I like it when they are here.”  It will be wonderful to see them, precious to see my daughter dressed in white with her Daddy for her baptism.  We’ll bask in the blessing of being together.  And the dirty fingerprints won’t matter.

Hopeful Homemaker

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