My husband and I had a wild idea some time back that we could make our daughter a platform bed and headboard. “How hard can it be?” we said. From sample pictures found online, we drew rough plans, took measurements, bought supplies, and began.

Well, actually here’s where it gets fuzzy. Beginning for me and my husband are two different things. I take off immediately. I may not know how all the pieces fit together, but I know the measurements and I’ll get there … eventually … maybe after a few mishaps, reattaching, or ripping out of boards along the way. My husband takes off slowly. He thinks, ponders, evaluates, and builds the bed completely in his mind many times over, analyzes potential pitfalls and a variety of solutions for each. And that’s before any building starts!

My husband was making the bed and I had painting duty at the end, so the “beginning phase” took about twenty months while the novelty of sleeping on a mattress on the floor wore off for our daughter. (Thankfully she doesn’t like high beds, so the floor was a good backup.)

Then the actual building phase began swiftly–after all my husband had anticipated every potential obstacle that could happen. My painting phase took twice as long as I expected due to relearning the technique and a slow drying time due to cold weather. In the end, just shy of two years later, our daughter’s bed was complete.

When she saw it all set up in her room, she screamed. “It’s just what I wanted. I love it!” We marveled at how awesome it looked and she laid on it to give the bed a hug. Everyone was happy.

Even though we’ve done many home remodel projects together that took far less time, I learned more how to appreciate the differences between my husband and me. We compliment each other. The bed looks great and is incredibly sturdy–completely to the credit of all my husband’s pondering, analyzing, and thinking over every angle. It got completed by the gentle nudging of the go-getter in me and of course my fashionista perspective shined in the indigo denim painting.

We may not be furniture makers and may never make another bed again, but we learned a lot by stretching ourselves.

Read More...

Somehow I blinked and summer disappeared. I don’t know when or how, but school is right around the corner and once again I’m trying to finish up plans for our new homeschool year.

It’s usually around this time each year when I wonder what we accomplished this summer. Then my next thought is, why do I always feel like I have to accomplish something?

Is there some manual that says parents must be productive 100% of the time? Or an 11^th commandment, “There shall be no rest for parents?” Or do only “good parents” constantly accomplish something?

No, no, and no. Yet, isn’t that how we feel sometimes? If we have any down time, all the undone chores come to mind. Or if Suzie Homemaker down the road has a spotless house, bakes, serves only homecooked healthy meals, and exercises regularly then she’s accomplishing something and we must not be.

It’s amazing how many unspoken measurements we set for ourselves … and usually they are based off of the achievements of someone else. Here’s the thing–God wired all of us differently and we were never meant to be copy cats of the next person. Plus, each family has their own set of values and priorities. So why compare ourselves to the next person? I know, easier said than done.

So I confess … my house is not clean. My floors are overdue on sweeping. Towels lay waiting to be folded. Dust bunnies have had a long overdue party on my furniture. Paperwork lies on my office floor. But instead of cleaning this last weekend I took my own advice from my last entry–we drove to Denver for a family weekend and went to the water park. What fun!

As I see it, I can clean for the rest my life. But my daughter will head off for college in just four short years.

Read More...

Last evening I went to a bookstore coffee shop and stood at the counter to order my coffee. No workers were around so I stood waiting … and waiting. I looked for a bell to ring for service. There was none. My mind wandered to all I could accomplish if someone was at the counter and I was already seated. I waited longer and then smiled–once again my impatience reared its ugly head.

Our world has become so fast paced that standing in line for a few minutes with no one around to serve us seems like an eternity.

Our technology today does not help. Rather than wait for a letter to arrive in the mail, we routinely check email for the quick response. Rather than wait for the scheduled time slot to watch a movie, we search On-Demand and watch whatever we want whenever we want. And that does not even compare to the instant options available to us when it comes to cell phones today. All these gadgets can make us an impatient society bothered by having to wait for anything.

Now, I have to admit I like On-Demand and the quick responses of email but I find that it is hard not to carry the right-now mentality into the rest of my life. Such as:

          Why cannot our children obey instantly?

          Why cannot dogs be instantly trained?

          Instant answers to prayers would be nice.

Unfortunately, life does not work that way. I find the gotta-have-it-right-now attitude rubs against the fabric of how life works and creates a few holes.

At times I am unknowingly edgy when my daughter needs teaching in an area rather than instantly knowing what she should do. I am unnecessarily frustrated at our dog that cannot learn to heel on the first or second walk. And I wonder where God is when I think He has missed a few opportunities to answer my prayers.

I find I need a constant post-it note on my forehead reminding me that much of the best of life comes in the waiting, the discovering, the unearthing, and yes most importantly … the journey.

When I remember this, I find such incredible treasures along the way–my daughter takes flight once she has the tools taught to her that she needs, I learn to rest in the sovereign plan of God knowing that He is in control and I do not have to be. And our dog … well, she is in process and an exercise of my patience at every evening walk. She will catch on soon enough.

What treasure will you discover today?

Read More...