On a semi-whim I put this book called The Nesting Place on a makeshift birthday list for my mother-in-law. I had seen a decorating blogger post a picture of her own copy on instagram and googled it to find out more. Once I saw there were rave reviews by Sherry Petersik of Young House Love (a blog I'm nothing short of obsessed over) and Ann Voskamp author of One Thousand Gifts (a real swift kick in the pants toward a life of gratefulness), I knew I had to check it out. The subtitle of the book is, it doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful. As I sat boiling over with resentment of my current rental in all it's cat-smelling, post-foreclosure, potentially-fatal-heat glory, I knew this book had my name written all over it.
True to form, my mother-in-law stuck to the list. I started reading immediately and didn't want to put it down. You should note, I don't like to read and pretty much can't stand when avid readers say they aren't able to put a book down. Like, come on people. Sleep, food, TV, staring off into space - anything is more enticing than reading indefinitely. Except this time when I was reading I actually didn't want to put it down. Whoops. So within a couple days I had the whole thing read and my life was changed. 100% serious.
As a mom of soon-to-be two who has been married for close to seven years, I've felt a real blow to my pride as I've sold a condo (not even a house, a condo) and moved into a rental that's much smaller and older than our condo, than our friends' houses, than my expectations for myself. Even worse, we say we made the choice to save money, but the whole truth is we don't even have the money to rent. It's dire around here. So much shame and embarrassment. It's not what I hoped for or dreamed of. This is not the house or the lifestyle I want, especially living in the west end of Richmond, VA.
I live my life constantly looking to the next thing. I couldn't wait to sell our condo. I can't wait to get out of this rental and into the one next door. But really, I can't wait to get out of rental next door because it's old and small and still not what my life should look like. When we get to the next place after that, then we can finally feel at home, settled, content. As if life has all these guarantees and entitlements. As if I can't serve my family and my God where I am right now.
This author spoke to my soul. In eighteen years of marriage she's lived in fourteen different homes - the majority of which have been rentals. They've lived in huge, beautiful homes and apartments smaller than mine with a family bigger than mine. She writes with humility and authenticity and faith. What I love about the book is that it is both practical and spiritual. She gives real, approachable tips for decorating and creating, but maybe even more significant is her take on contentment and presence and tying the idea of what makes a home and our hearts together. There's so much good stuff, I could go on forever. There was one page I dog-eared, and it reads:
You will look back and have fond memories of the rental you currently despise. And choosing a less than ideal home in order to have the kind of home life, financial peace, or family circumstance you want is not the kind of decision you look back on and regret. Remind yourself that you are being intentional. Choosing to rent just might be a gift after all.
This book gave me the freedom to run towards the idea of creating a home and creating it now. I know I have it in me - this desire for creativity and aesthetics and atmosphere - but I always feel like it's a purposeless desire. This wise woman has allowed me to think about and open my eyes to the value of creating an intentional space here. Life will continue to be miserable if I continue to wait until the next best thing to satisfy me and bring contentment. What kind of space do I want my family and friends to be in while they're between these walls? I want them to feel safe, comfortable, welcomed. I want to be intentional and relaxed. I don't want to waste my time and energy apologizing for the imperfections or wishing them away. I firmly believe our lives don't have to be perfect to be beautiful - why should my home be any different?
You guys, listen to how crazy I am. We were having a new babysitter come watch Surrey. I made sure to text this sweet high schooler ahead of time so I could go over the details of the evening, but more importantly so I could already start apologizing for my home (see also my life). In all my insecurity and discontentment and fear I warned her it smells of cat and reassured her that we're moving out soon. What would she think of our family compared to other much wealthier families at the church we go to? I'm sure she's babysat for other families. They probably have a dining room, we don't. An entryway, a pantry, cable TV. Nope, we don't have 'em. That night when she got here I almost immediately started apologizing for my lamps. MY LAMPS. One is green and one is black. I had every intention of spray painting them so that they'd look uniform and perfect, but once we knew we weren't staying in this place I miraculously held off (patience, along with contentment, is not my strength). Here this precious teenager was having to handle my lamp issue. God forbid someone would leave my home thinking I actually live this way, thinking I would actually put a black and green lamp with the rest of my living room decor.
This is not what life is about. Stop the crazy. Embrace the imperfection. Rise above the circumstances and trust Jesus.
But seriously guys, don't put a black and green lamp together...
More practical gleanings from this book to come in the future, including my crazy feather lamp.
I loved this one- I may have to read the book!
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