apartment therapy

Our bedroom! Done!

A few days ago I was wandering despairingly from room to room - are you noticing I do this often? - because once we got our furniture situated in the correct rooms I lost all motivation to finish decorating. Every room was undone and slowly causing me mild depression. This morning I came to my senses.

I woke up and realized there was nothing personal about our bedroom. I looked around and had no sense of context. Who am I? Where am I?! I realize these questions probably have deeper roots in my current identity crisis, but I decided the temporary solution would be to hang photos.

I'll let you know if I feel more situated when I wake up tomorrow morning, but in the meantime, here's a picture of how our bedroom has turned out so far. My favorite part is that Charlie loves it. He really wanted the bedroom to be a BEDROOM, not a multi-purpose/office/sewing/craft room. And he totally feels like we did it! Awesome! Because we are still in an apartment and not our Barbie Dream House, the sewing table did end up in this room. But it's hidden, tucked away in a little alcove. Bet you didn't even see it in that first picture, did you? Well, that's partly because of the camera angle. It's not totally your fault. Don't feel bad.

Surprise!

And just so you know, finishing this project has truly relieved a lot of mental angst. So my encouragement to you is to finish something! Anything! It's a surefire way to find a little bit of joy.

Homemade Dishwashing Detergent

It all started with the homemade laundry soap. I'm not sure if I shared about that, but it's been awesome. My most recent endeavor was making homemade dishwasher detergent. For no particular reason. I'm not so concerned with the earth right now, although that is a factor, and I'm not too worried about money, although that is also a factor. It mostly just sounded fun and home-makey. And now that I have a mechanical slave called a DISHWASHER I needed something to feed it.

So I made this lady's recipe (thank you, lady). And because we had some Amazon credit I bought the Lemi-Shine (didn't feel like emptying 50 packets of Koolaid into my washer) because I think it was cheaper per unit than the Citric Acid, and we already had the Borax and Fels-Naptha because of the laundry detergent. So for me, it was really cheap. I don't know about you. I don't think like that. My friend Allie thinks like that, and she does lots of calculating on her blog. It's awesome.

I'm really tired, so I don't have much more to say about this, except that it works. Our dishes are sparkly clean and I am a happy camper.

back in the saddle

Hello again, everyone!

Our move temporarily left me without internet, as well as time to blog, but I'm back. Nice to see you.

This house is slowly becoming a home. I spent a few days pacing between rooms, sighing and shaking my head as I surveyed the chaos that was our new apartment, but with the help of family and friends I am grateful to report that I am finally starting to feel settled. Our living room doesn't look like an attic, and we actually slept in the bedroom last night. This is major progress, people.

Will you be shocked to hear that these first few days of the fulfillment of my dreams of staying at home have not been pure bliss? No, I didn't think so. I wasn't either. Given my propensity to anxiety and dooms-day-ism, my tumult the last few days isn't surprising.

Quitting work has caused me to face some really important questions: Who am I now? What do I have to say for myself? Do I need to have anything to say for myself?

"So, what do you do?"

"Nothing..."

"I am unemployed. By choice. I am not a loser."

"I tidy our house. All day."

Yeah, I am obviously having some sort of identity crisis, but I know from experience that this is usually good. God shows me where I really find my worth and value, and usually it's not in Him, and so we work through this together. Not the first time, and I am confident good will result.

The thing that has been most hard is anticipating Charlie starting full-time work in November. I am realizing that in many ways I've run to him for safety, refuge, and protection, and have viewed God, who allows suffering and therefore doesn't always seem loving, as someone to be held at arm's length. Not quite safe. Not quite the kind of refuge I want.

In the midst of my questions and doubts about God, I allowed Charlie to become my center of gravity. He is a known entity, and sometimes I have the illusion that I can control him. Not so with God. So the thought of spending less time with Charlie and more time with God has caused some real panic.

I've been in prayer the past few days about the ways I view God, the things I unfairly accuse him of, the experiences I truly don't understand, my idea that true love doesn't allow suffering. It's been a rough weekend, but I kind of knew this day was coming and in some ways was looking forward to it. The lies we believe about God are enslaving. And I know Jesus doesn't like to see us in chains. I'm excited for freedom.

This morning I'm feeling hopeful. I sat down with some cocoa and my journal and laid before God my pride and accusations. That I have called me good and him bad. That I haven't believed the promises of the Bible, that I've trusted my own conclusions instead of the truth about who he is. And I'm still praying for him to break my heart, to really feel it and give it all up.

So, here I am. Chatting with you, mentally making a list of projects, plans to be in prayer through it all. Grateful for today, for God's faithfulness, and for all of you.

onions

Tonight I ran into our bedroom crying to Charlie. I couldn't take it! Not for one more second!

I started chopping this onion and tears began streaming down my face. Some onions are okay, but this one sent me over the edge. And you know what I think is really ironic about onions? The more I cry, the less I can see - I'm talking one squinted eye at a time - and so the faster I chop and the further away from the cutting board I get. Do you see the inherent danger? I'm sure this frantic scene is hilarious to watch.

Anyway, I just had to share. I'm sitting in our room while Charlie finishes the soup. At least the onion part of the recipe. What a good man.

our house is flipping us.

If “amiability during home improvement projects” is a measure of how we’re doing as a couple…well, sigh.

Charlie and I are embarking on a home-building adventure as we move into our new apartment, which has so far included undue amounts of stress and conflict regarding paint colors, taping techniques and the amount (or lack of ) care given to things like placement of objects in a loaded car. As the less conscientious half of this marriage, I wonder why certain things matter so much to him. He, I know, often wonders the reverse about me.

We both recognize that our differences are an asset. Truly. We mostly appreciate those things that make the other foreign, and how we complement each other. Except when we don’t. And it seems that lately, in the stress of moving and so much busyness, it is easy for us to have a less high-minded view of each other and fall straight into carnal, dog-eat-dog, you-will-like-my-Crepe-paint-color-or-suffer-the-consequences types of attitudes. It’s not pretty.

Listen, I was determined not to be this couple. I have watched far too many TLC house-flipping horror shows, the way once-loving couples are slowly reduced into haggard, animalistic individuals determined to have their own way. I knew better.

But I guess I am seeing that knowing better isn’t doing better. Apparently we are susceptible to the same struggles that seem like they would be so easily avoided on tv. Who knew.

But then there’s that moment. The softening of hearts. “I love you” breaks the silence. “I actually really like how this looks. You were right.” The humbling. The repentance. Maybe we can also measure our relationship by the frequency and sincerity of these moments. The muchness of Jesus in the midst of the meanness of self.

Now, back to work!

my retirement speech

Basically, I'm pretty much the most amazing person I know today. A total domestic goddess. Can I just brag to you for a second?

By God's grace I had the whole day off, which for Charlie and I means sleeping in past nine and eating breakfast after ten. I won't lie, this happens a lot. And it's awesome. Anyway, crepes for breakfast, and I was only a little bit mad that Charlie stayed in bed while I made them. This is amazing progress for me! We read the Bible - we are currently making our way through the book of Hebrews together and I am learning a lot. It's good for me to slow down and talk about what I'm reading. Very nice.

After lunch and some zombie tv show, Charlie headed off to work and I got busy. This really could have turned into a domestic disaster like the one I mentioned in an earlier post, but I think two things saved me this time: I stopped and rested, even took a nap this afternoon, when I was feeling myself getting tired. And maybe for this reason, I wasn't feeling like a slave this time. I actually felt totally joyful and privileged to be able to stay home all day and fart around the house. This, too, is progress!

I roasted butternut squash for a chowder I made, got dressed up real cute and brought stuffed tomatoes and veggies to Charlie at work for dinner, did buttloads (seriously) of dishes, and got the house looking really sweet for Joseph & Jarica to stay over tonight. All projects done! All missions accomplished! And here I sit with my feet up, savoring this rare and wonderful day and anticipating the arrival of a friend and her ice cream. Does it get better?

These days are rare, and I think that's why I have learned to appreciate them so much. I have often felt resentful of my (paying) job because my heart truly longs to be at home, making things lovely, making lovely things. And soon this will be my life!

Starting in October I'll be a stay-at-home.... wife! It seems too good to be true, and so of course sometimes I assume that it is. What am I missing?! God doesn't actually answer prayers, does He? I am honestly having a hard time believing this time has come. I think I am the luckiest lady in the world and at the same time am praying that there isn't some surprise sneak attack planned! Some day soon I will wake up and just...not have to go to work anymore. Wow. I don't have anything else to say right now, just wow.

calling it like it is!

I am currently using the Flip Bible Method of study. That means I flip open to whatever page I want and read until something catches my eye. I know this sounds less Christian than say, my disciplined husband's method of reading one book until he's done, but it's worked so well for me lately that I really have little motivation to change at this point.

So today I flipped open to Isaiah 59. I was captured right away:

"Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor his ears too dull to hear.

But your iniquities have separated you from you God;

your sins have hidden his face from you,

so that he will not hear.

For your hands are stained with blood,

your fingers with guilt."

Don't mean to be a Debbie Downer on this one. The truth is that I was actually really encouraged by these verses, and here's why...

I have been suffering with my friends lately. In the midst of a season of relative peace and tranquility in my marriage, I have had lots of excess emotional energy, which I have been using to over-analyze the trials and troubles of my friends. Betcha they're excited! Now, whether they need or appreciate my help is up for debate, and I'm not even sure that it's actually intentional on my part. But at this point I am just telling you how it is.

On one hand, I have been praying with more passion and learning to love them in this way. Good. On the other hand, it has been making me crazy, and straining my relationship with God. Not so good.

I tend to blame God for everything. When I see people struggling and hurting my first question seems to be, "Why, God?!" I act as if He is the one who sins and causes problems in our lives. Oh, wait...

Credit where credit is due! We, for the most part, don't require outside help to cause trouble in our lives. In fact, doesn't it seem to come naturally? If I'm honest as I look at my marriage or anyone else's, I can easily trace the issues back to people and sin, not to God.

I need God. I need Him for comfort as I'm overwhelmed by struggles I don't understand and don't know how to counsel. I need Him for wisdom as I try to speak and even to pray. I need Him for understanding, to sort things out in my head and my heart. And the second I start blaming and accusing Him, I cut myself off from all of these things and start to get so confused. The truth is that my iniquities separate me from God, just as my friends' iniquities separate them from God. It's not God's fault.

Oh, the relief of calling this like it is, of rightly labeling what's good good and what's evil evil. There is a peace that came with knowing the truth that we sin and God is good in the midst. So simple! So easy!

A pastor once told me that the Christian life isn't complicated, it's just hard =)