The Exquisite Writing of Hal Borland

"November is the evening of the year, the bedtime of the green and flowering world. Now comes the time for rest, for sleep. So the coverlet is spread, the tucking in begun. Next should come the lullaby, but the lullaby singers have all gone south. The pines and the hemlocks will whisper good night instead."

Relationships Can Be Restored

Maybe this winter can be your spring and mine? God is able! Do the right thing, say the right thing, to the right person. Don't do the wrong thing, and say the wrong thing. Don't say the right thing to anyone and everyone but the right person. Relationships are worth it. Someone, somewhere is waiting on you to fix it. They are missing you. Fix it soon. Love is alive...

In Which Sheila Declares

...that she is thankful for:

her girlfriends...and her best friend, The Preacher...and her children, her four plus two more sons in law...

for Snoopy cartoons...
and birthday presents that are still coming in...
for 25 years, this year, with her Renaissance Man - preacher, builder, musician, auto mechanic, handy man, world traveler, computer techie, Bible student, and sous chef...

Ford trucks, and most country music
the maxi dress, her big front porch, and smart phone

Sheila is fantastically grateful for her Grandson. The Cutest Ever. Even though he has already discovered biting. And squealing in rage. He's still perfect. Amen.

for her parents, sister, and brother

for petite blondes who drive Mustangs and make her smile and buy purple shirts especially for her son's basketball games. A better girlfriend a mother's son never had.

for nice girls from Minnesota, utterly brunette, visiting my home and family this Thanksgiving (Josiah, she's great!)

for the mighty, amazing, unending, unfathomable, better-than-we-know grace of God
and for the gospel of Jesus Christ, the effect of which is a true, unselfconscious, humble and durable holiness

that she serves a Joyful King

that she didn't earn and doesn't deserve, yet she is insanely and sloppily blessed

for the way her God breaks chains - even hers, even specifically hers. Those old bondages, so gone!

for the changes her God has made in her life this year - even this year, even specifically this year. Changes some would consider pretty near drastic. And beautiful.

for life-long, well weathered friendships...for the grace men and grace women who stick and stay...

for new friends...especially the outstandingly good looking and highly accomplished ones. They don't intimidate her, she's too busy taking notes and admiring them.

for new opportunities

for old friendships, rekindled...for uber talented friends who cook, garden, landscape, sew, love all my kids and spoil my grandson and blow up things on the fourth of July...

for friends with beautiful, kidney shaped swimming pools in their new party home...and for young college friends...

for a pastor with uncommon courage, a church family with uncommon love and faithfulness, a network of supportive apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers...

"In Which Sheila Declares" that she. is. blessed.

Where Does Your Hope Rest?

Do you cherish hopes for yourself? You should. Are they big hopes? They ought to be huge - much bigger than you could ever accomplish. Super-sized hopes? Fuggetaboutit.

Take that hope, and GOD-SIZE IT, sisterfriend!

But know this: if the bedrock of those hopes is not the mighty grace of God, if you aren't building your dreams on His unmerited favor, you run a very great risk of obtaining every bit of what you've been hoping for, only to discover none of it satisfies.

Some have asked me, "What about my part? What about self discipline? What about setting high standards?" Mostly, they are entertaining a false choice to begin with. Shoot, people have left my church over that false choice, and it is truly a pity, because they are missing out. They couldn't understand that there is no choosing between God's grace and high personal achievement.

It's all in where your hope of glory lies, see.

Whatever made you imagine for a second that the grace of God, when activated in your life, would leave you to your own devices, or set the bar too low? It is God, after all, who is living on the inside of you! It is God, after all, at work in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure. He provides the initiative, He infuses the self control, and He gives strength to the weak. In that context, set the bar as high as it'll go.

Your part is to harbor a great and massive hope, ever move towards that hope, and believe the Gospel as applied to your present situation. All of Him, none of you. He alone is Maker.

Maker of all.

It is He who hath made us, and not we ourselves.

And when we get to the end of this life, what will we find ourselves saying?

"It is He who hath made us, and not we ourselves," that's what. No self made men in God's kingdom. By the grace of God, I am what I am. Sola, sola, sola gracia!

I have quite a store of hopes and dreams for this, my second half of living. I have caught a right fine second wind. Sequel-mothering suits me to a "T", my heart is enlarged for the generation that follows behind me, and doors of opportunity are swinging wide. I yearn to bring God GREAT glory with my one, well-lived life, spent loving others. I actually think I can do great things. Because this life that I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me.

See here: "Christ in me, the hope of glory!"

That's where my God-sized hope of accomplishing big things comes from.

You Won't Find Perfection Here

...because, to begin with, I have been fighting a stomach bug for two days. So I am in no mood to ply you with perfectly staged pictures of my sweet little life.

And I've just about had enough of some of the "Fundamentalista-blogs" out there, portraying life as though it were one big bubble blowing "we love Jesus, that's why everything's perfect" party. I've read through a couple tonight, and off the cuff...well, they are beginning to irk me. If I ever retract that statement, I shall blame my current state of nausea. I won't name names, though I could. I am half sorry I've recommended a couple of them in years past. I wasn't "onto" their game, then.

All those homemade dresses. And cooking. And knitting. And perfect children, both grown and not quite grown. And (here is the shame): no mention of even one struggle...I'm serious. Now that I have the luxury of looking over the body of work on these couple of blogs - I lie not - not a single struggle is mentioned beyond the death of elderly loved ones.

Meanwhile, here at The Cottage, you've heard me talk about how Waltonesque we are here - with three generations under one (small, middle income, not-hip-or-architecturally-interesting) roof. But how did I put it? "We are so Waltonesque, only Mama takes her half-an-Ambien at bedtime, and John Boy chews tobacco and can be mean sometimes."

We are trophies of grace - not a trophy family. And I am so daggum okay with that. Yes. I said daggum. Yes, I take a half an Ambien to get to sleep. If you had a crying grand baby in your house, if you had a less than perfect, sometimes noisy teenage son, and a husband who snored like a bulldog with a sinus issue, with no extra bedrooms to spare in your ordinary 60's tract home, you'd need a half an Ambien too. Deal with it.

We are in full time ministry. We home schooled each and every child from birth through high school graduation. (The youngest graduates this spring.) We never sewed our own dresses, we wore jeans. We did and we do bake bread, but only because we enjoy it. I knit because it keeps me sane.

We read CS Lewis, GK Chesterton, Churchill's History of the English Speaking Peoples, the Iliad and the Odyssey, and Semus Heaney's translation of Beowulf. We listen to classical music, worship music, and a bit of Eric Clapton. Everyone (but me) sings and plays a musical instrument, and plays it skillfully. I have enough material to pretend with. I have enough going on, I could only tell you the good parts, and conveniently leave out the struggle.

I could. But why would I?

Both daughters married well, saved themselves for marriage, and married strong Christian men. One of my daughters gave us our first grandson in December of last year. She and her husband and our grandson live with us, because my daughter's husband was in graduate school getting his Master's, interning at a local high school for free, and working part time when they found out she was pregnant.

To take a small bit of the pressure off of them, they chose to move in with us for a season. They are now at the point at which they are scouring the papers, looking for the perfect house on a teacher's meager salary. They'll move back out next year.

Our other daughter married an artist, and they spend all their time developing his art business, and helping out with various ministries in our church.

And our oldest son is no longer in the Marines. He is the tobacco chewer - a habit the whole family fervently prays he soon outgrows. And he will. I don't doubt that. He is back in town, attempting to get a fresh start. As a family, we are trying to help him do that...help him just enough, but not too much.

Our youngest son is also a work-in-progress. He left home last year, and after a great deal of heartbreak and prayer, willingly came back home. He repented and asked for a fresh start, and we gave that to him. Do we know how it will all turn out? Not really.

All I know is that grace will accomplish what the law could never do. The law can't make anything righteous, but the bringing of a better hope most certainly HAS and most certainly WILL.

Does that all seem so...so...so blue collar? So not-fundamentalist-homeschooler? So much less than perfect?

Thank you. Thank you, thank you for saying so. Somebody has to live this life honestly, and embrace it with true joy. Because the last thing I want you to find, when you visit me here, is the same old bubble blowing perfectly-faked-life crap.

Here's the point: I'm okay! I lived through the turmoil! I survived finding out that my family is less than perfect. Yet. Yet, there is so much beauty in my life these days, it often overwhelms me.

I am overflowing with joy. After wrestling through law and gospel issues, and actually applying the gospel to my private world (THUS "ordering it") I discovered that the good news is actually good news. And it brings health and beauty into lives. It mends people and hearts and relationships. I'm living proof.

Note: "beauty" and "perfection" have never been synonymous.

My "Granny Chic" Coffee Table

I awoke the other day to fresh, hot coffee, made just the way I love it...and a cleaned-up livingroom. (We had had company the night before. I knew when I went to bed that my livingroom was a mess...)

My Preacher. He walks his talk. He makes every day feel like my birthday.

Anyhoo - I grabbed my Nikon, and let said coffee-with-turbinado-sugar-and-caramel-macchiato-cream get cold, while I snapped these pictures of my "Granny Chic coffee table" for you...after all, I did promise!

We do allow grandson to play with the pristine-condition antique typewriter. Will it be imperfect by the time he loses interest in it? Probably. But do we care? Nah...

Fresh flowers. I sit them in the very center of the table. As of this writing, his little arms and fingertips just can't quite get to the flowers. (We scoot the typewriter over to the edge for him, when he is playing with it...)

In the very-very foreground, you see the red and blue parts of a vintage style wooden toy that Timothy loves. Then you see a wooden drawer from an antique Singer sewing machine - filled with LED candles and fall baubles. Though the candles cannot hurt him, that is the one thing we don't let him play with. Some days he "gets it"...other days, he doesn't want to understand it at all.

See how the table legs are wrapped with padded ticking fabric? And as of today, we have little corner "bumpers" on all four corners...they hadn't yet been purchased when I took these photos.

He loves his sock monkey-in-the-box, his wooden puzzles, and his Pooh bear blocks. And I think all of it looks so perfectly imperfect AS the decor in my livingroom. You can google it, and see tons of pictures of coffee table vignettes - you'll find decorating philosophy specific to coffee tables - but I promise, you won't find ANYTHING like this.

I have gotten so many compliments on this happy arrangement. Very grandbaby-friendly, very vintage inspired....very "me".

Have I told you that I have wholly embraced the whole "Granny Chic" thing?

::smile::

I know. I have told you...a few times.

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