Blue Crayon

Today Beckett colored on the wall with a blue crayon.  And guess what?  I didn't flip out.

This might not seem like a big deal to those of you who have already conquered the demon of perfectionism but, 3 years ago - heck, 6 month ago, that would've darn near ruined my day.  You know what changed?  No, I haven't resigned myself to the whims of my children. And no, I still won't ever allow Little Mermaid stickers all over my car windows {aka. the parental version of a white flag}. The eyes through which I see that blue mess on the wall has changed.

A few months ago, I visited my grandmother whom I haven't seen in years {a tragedy, I know}.  We were sitting around chatting about what life has been like for her since my grandpa passed away and she mentioned that recently a nephew of hers came by the house to help her fix a few things that had taken a backseat to my grandfather's cancer.  While her nephew was there he noticed what looked like a poorly patched dip in her kitchen ceiling and he let her know he could take care of that too.  She refused.  See, she told him that the patch is a memory.  And no, she didn't care to fix that.  

Of course I had to know what memory it was and with a smile on her face she told me the story of a raccoon that had gotten into the attic once.  With my grandpa away at work, my dad grew tired of hearing the coon scurrying back and forth above them so he decided to go into the attic to shoo him out.  Right away, he fell through the ceiling, leaving a huge hole and a giant mess.  According to my grandmother, he also left "a memory".

My dad passed away a few years after {I was barely 9 months old} and although the patch could be repaired she told me that she never wanted it to go away. Every morning as she stirred the gravy and turned the bacon, she stood under that memory.  Each time she cooked a family meal in that kitchen, she had that memory, and him, with her. And now I can see the memory too.  

Sometimes, here in the trenches of raising little ones, it's nearly impossible to see past the popcorn on the rug, the sticky apple juice on the floor, and the shoes that never find their way into a closet.  So I'm being honest when I say that this new perspective has lifted a huge weight off of my shoulders. When I look around my imperfect house, I can now see memories instead of mess.  I see my kids.  I see my husband.  I see our life.  And goodness that I don't care to "fix" by erasing our existence.  

This life is far too precious, far too short, and far too important to let a blue crayon ruin the day.  

This has been a balm to my heart and undoubtedly is refining my heart. Thank you, grandma, for that enormous nugget of wisdom.

I am forever grateful. 

Stretched

So... the Lord is good. Can I get an amen?  Last week we spread wide our tent and closed on the dirtiest, stinkiest, most neglected house I've probably ever set foot in.

And we LOVE IT.

{Little known fact about The Thorns: We love homes.  Like, we sit in bed every night - eeeeevery night - and look at them and then we talk about them and then we decide what we'd do different with them and if we could live there.  Yeah, we are weird.}

Moving on.  

Many of you have asked if we are moving.  The answer is no.  We love our neighborhood and although our house is small, it fits our lifestyle so perfectly that we are staying put.  This little gem that I write of will be a rental property for us.  Just writing that feels impossible, just so we're clear. I don't know how/why He does it but sometimes God inspires you to think bigger, better.  Then he hands you a little nugget on a silver platter and all you have to do is accept it.  Kinda like grace.  But that's a whole other post.

Now where were we?

Fact: this house was built in 1919

Fact: the man who lived there had 2 large dogs and no fenced yard.  Yeah, it smelled rancid. Yes, they might have tried eating a few doors.

Fact: the house has the most amazing garage, which we hope to covert into livable space at some point.

Fact: we have 30 days to finish the remodel.

Here's our BIG to-do list:

1- open up the floor plan for better flow into the kitchen.

2 - knock out a weird kitchen wall/window to open up the kitchen into the dining space.

3 - manipulate the kitchen layout, adding an island, and new floors.

3 - convert a random extra room into a third bedroom.

4 - create a laundry area.

5 - refinish all hardwoods.

6 - paint.

7 - fix a few windows.

8 - and if we have time... paint the exterior.

DISCLAIMER: iphone pics taken the day we got the keys. Please forgive.

Oh, and here's that garage I told you about.  It's so charming it kills me.

On my heart.

When Chris and I were dating, we had the most amazing pen-pal kind of courtship.  A full summer of letters {for real letters, not emails, no texts... can you imagine?!}, sweet little packages, and long talks on the telephone.  He would ask me what he could pray about for me {this was a first!} and send me his favorite books on prayer and worship.  He rocked my world in more than one way but he laid the foundation for a relationship that knew where to turn for guidance.

One day I received a card from him in the mail.  He wanted to share with me a verse that had been on his heart.  It read...

    “Enlarge the place of your tent,

    stretch your tent curtains wide,

    do not hold back;

lengthen your cords,

    strengthen your stakes.     

Hmm...And then I moved on.  

Fast forward 5 years and as he proposed to me on top of the Empire State Building, he reminded me that he felt called towards an un-ordinary life.  One full of purpose, surprise.  One in which he was instructed to spread wide his tent.

Hmmmmm... and then we moved on.

Today, another 7 years later {yeah, it took us awhile}, we are on the precipice of a move that might take us a bit closer to both literally and figuratively spreading wide our tent.  By a miracle that neither of us yet fully comprehends, we are placing one foot in front of the other and by faith, lengthening our cords. We are making our way towards realizing a dream of ours with no other explanation than the verse that my husband heard that summer in 2001.  The Lord is mysterious in ways I find harder and harder to comprehend and his blessings are just so abundant I might scream.  My heart overflows with gratitude and awe.  

And that's what's on my heart today.