Skip to main content

Through New Eyes



Over the last few years, we have had many new friends over to our house for dinner or games. It always pleasantly surprises me when they comment on something that has all but become invisible to me. They ask me about where that picture was taken, or who painted that piece, or where did we get that desk, and as I tell them the funny or sweet story behind each object I realize what a rich and wonderful marriage we have had. 

My husband and I have moved so many times in our short marriage, that we have had to leave behind anything that isn't useful or sentimental. And we've had days when we could barely buy a gallon of milk, much less buy a new piece of furniture. So our home has become a fun, albeit eclectic collection of curbside finds and going-away gifts. Even as I sit in my dining room writing this, I can see easily see a dozen things that have been given to us or made by us. They are a constant reminder of how much we are loved and how many memories we've made together. 

But it sometimes takes the new eye of a friend to bring out the beauty in each piece and in each memory. Many times I am so caught up in acquiring the things I think I still need for my home or secretly desiring the fun experiences other friends seem to be having, that I forget that my own life is a beautiful hodgepodge of memories and experiences. And most importantly, that someone else thinks those experiences are inspiring and meaningful. 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Free from Guilt

A couple of friends and I have had conversations this week about the thing that seems to plague all women most of the time...guilt.

I feel guilty about standing my ground when I know I'm right. What if I hurt the other person's feelings? 
I feel guilty about honestly saying no when I don't want to do something.  What if I'm just being selfish?
I feel guilty about not attending every birthday or wedding I'm invited to. Or accepting every friend request on social media. Or volunteering for every empty spot on the church help list. 
I feel guilty about buying myself a new shirt. Or a new book. Because maybe that money could be used for something more important. 
I feel guilty for just wanting to be alone--a lot--instead of out partying it up with people. 
I feel guilty for sitting my kid in front of the TV for a few minutes while I write this. 
I feel guilty for just wanting a foot rub at the end of the day, and not a steamy evening of romance.

I feel guilty that I haven'…

Everything I Thought I Knew

Relationship magazines, advertisements for women, submission talks in church, modesty talks in youth group, and my mother's and grandmother's own views about men and their own broken relationships...I brought all these lessons with me into my marriage, ready to be the greatest wife ever! But I have been disappointed by some of this advice and I've had to relearn a few things along the way. 

1) As long as you're a good cook and keep a clean home, your husband will be happy. (Ok, there's sex too, but I'll talk about it later)  A few dirty dishes, which to me are the end of the world, aren't even on my husband's radar. He'd rather me sit with him and watch a movie or work on a project together.

2) You're too fat, you forgot to shave, your tan lines are showing, your breasts are too small, your butt is too big, your hair is too flat. It was absolutely terrifying to stand naked in front of my husband for the first time-- for the first hundred times. It…

Seasons

My daughter, my dog, and I were walking in the woods today when we came to a spot that was familiar and stopped. I could just barely tell it was the same place we visited a couple of winters ago. Everything looked so different under the weight and shade of leaves, flowers, and berries. The water was bubbling and the air was alive with both humidity and bugs. This seemed worlds away from the still, barren cold we experienced on our first visit.

This moment reminded of the change of seasons in our own lives. On my own personal journey, my life looked very different a year ago. In fact, this very walk, in the heat and sun, for this long, would not have been possible. I was battling physical and mental symptoms of anxiety that had made even getting out of bed impossible on some days. What a transformation a year has made! I am not the same, nor will I ever be again. Much the same way this spot in nature is both familiar and strange during a different season. 

I live my life in seasons. What…