Every new exploration needs a home base but when we are struggling to put down roots, sometimes we neglect ours out of rebellion. I don’t mean that in not creating home we are sinning against the homemaking gods, but sometimes in our grieving we can live shallow, in hope that it won’t hurt as much if we have to pull those roots back up. Today, make homemaking a step toward trusting the God who is watching over the seeds of your future. Say “yes” to home.
Ina Garten’s intro to her cookbook, Barefoot Contessa at Home, always inspires me to simmer mulled cider on the stove, light a candle on the island as I work, and love my family with a welcoming home base:
“‘Something smells really good!’ my husband, Jeffrey, exclaims every Friday when he walks in the door. Most weeks, Jeffrey has been around the world and back and when he walks in that door, I want him to feel that he’s really home. What he doesn’t realize is that what feels very casual is, in fact, quite deliberate: the music is playing, all the lights are on, there are flowers everywhere, and chicken and onions are roasting in the oven.
I didn’t always know how to do all that. It took time and lots of experimentation. Over the 38 years we’ve been married, I’ve tried everything–the good, the bad, and the ugly. But I’ve evolved a style that seems to work for me. I like knowing that there are twenty new magazines on the coffee table, delicious French teas in the pantry, and expensive bubble baths next to the tub. A good home should gather you up in its arms like a warm cashmere blanket, soothe your hurt feelings, and prepare you to go back out into that big bad world tomorrow, all ready to fight the dragons.
I’m basically a nester. All day long, I feel as though I’m batting back the baseballs that are being hurled at me: decisions to make, places to go, cranky people to deal with…and when I come home, I want my house to feel serene and beautiful, like the way to feel when you get into bed piled high with down pillows; you’re safe.”
Good Monday morning, friend, we’re on a journey to thriving right where we’re planted. We just moved five states south and I’m stumbling through learning to love a new town full of the broken beautiful. Come along? Type your email into the “Connect” square on the right hand side of the front page and join me for the pilgrimage. It’ll be nice to have your company along the way.