This Man of Mine (A Father's Day post)

Late - As always.

Caution: This post will contain lots of adorable father-daughter pictures along with words of adoration. You've been warned.

But first....

A few days before Father's Day, the hubby and I had a serious discussion. As unpleasant as the discussion was, it was necessary. You see, although we like to think we will grow old together, we are both acutely aware of the fact that this is not a given. We have had three friends (and know of several others) who have lost their spouse while still in their twenties through various unexpected occurrences (cancer, an accident, and unknown health condition).

Since the hubby works in the insurance industry, we first purchased life insurance when I was pregnant with Anne. We now have four daughters and realized that if something we to happen to either one of us, we should probably have more money than we would have needed seven years ago. We discussed what we would need/want the money to cover, and who to go to for financial advice. (Obviously I'm the one who would need the financial advice, and I'm grateful that we have a friend to go to who we trust will give us sound advice should we need it). All that to say, if you don't have life insurance and you have children, I would recommend getting it. It's really not that expensive and will certainly provide peace of mind should you ever need to use the money.

And now..... Because I love old poetry I will use these famous words from Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Sonnet 43:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
    My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

  I love thee to the level of everyday's
    Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men might strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

  I love thee with the passion put to use
    In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,–I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!–and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Caroline waving to a dog

Thanks, Trent, for all you do. For telling stories to the girls, for making Saturday morning breakfasts, for not getting upset over a messy house and messy children, for playing, for being the calm in the midst of all your emotional girls, for your great ideas for evening treats, for washing my dishes, and all the other endless, simple ways you are present in our lives and show us your love. Most of all, thank you for the wonderful example of what a Christ-follower looks like. I am grateful.

A Cord of Three Strands

^{I've been thinking a lot about marriage these days. Mostly new marriages since "wedding season" has come upon us in full force. Nearly all of my orders are related to weddings. I originally painted this sign as a belated wedding gift. I painted the braided rope directly onto the sign.} 

 

^{It's only natural that I would think of weddings as I paint signs like this. I love these verses from Ecclesiastes chapter 4. Read them in the HCSB version: 
11} Also, if two lie down together, they can keep warm; but how can one person alone keep warm? ¹² And if someone overpowers one person, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.

 I've recently had several request through my Etsy store for a version of this sign but with an eye hook so the couple can braid a cord during their wedding ceremony. Here is one I just completed and will be shipping to Georgia in the next couple of days. **A Cord of Three strands in my Etsy Store.**

Painting these signs has given me an awesome opportunity to pray for the people who will receive them. Most of the people who will see these signs and touch these signs and braid these strands will be people I will never meet. As many of you know, the divorce rate, even among Christian couples, is staggering. It's devastating. As a child of divorced parents I know what it feels like to have brokenness in something that is supposed to stay whole.

It has really been on my heart recently to pray for marriages. For my own marriage, for those just starting out, and those struggling. I don't even pretend to know the particulars in others' relationships, but I like to believe what Ecclesiastes 4:12 alludes to: two people (in this case a husband and a wife) and Christ. With Christ as the third strand in our cord, I believe it is not easily broken. I understand there are challenges that go along with marriages. There are financial burdens, stressful careers, homes to care for, children, dishes, messes, laundry, dinners, church commitments, etc. Life has only seemed to get busier the longer we are married. But there ARE ways to keep Christ right there with us. It is possible to stay connected to your spouse in the midst of busy lives. 

I just want to offer a little bit of encouragement to those of you out there who are married to make an effort to love on your spouse today. Go out of your way to show them that you love them.

When a Burden becomes a Blessing

Just about two years ago I wrote this post about the frustrations of trying to "Love Your Neighbor". It's a short post - I encourage you to pop over and read it.

The first year we lived in this home we were irritated by the amount of time our neighbor boy spent at our house. It felt burdensome to have to watch over him. Here we are, two years later, and we don't know what we would do without him.

Our neighbors who felt oppressive when we first moved in have become dear to us. Our girls wait impatiently for their little friend to get off the bus from school and have been counting down the days with him for school to let out. His grandparents put up a swing set just on their side of the property line and invite our home schooled girls to have "recess" on their swing set. They built a sandbox and we filled it with sand. We share freeze pops, and band aids, and occasionally bathrooms. We celebrate birthdays together.

Recently we have been grieving together. The oldest woman living next door (in her 80s) just lost her daughter, aged 64. The daughter has battled a kidney disease for 14 years. Her daughter had built the house we live in and lost it to foreclosure. The older woman, who shares a name with my own grandmother (though is much older than my grandmother) has become so so precious to me. I bring Caroline over to her to visit almost every day. She loves to chat about the weather, about what Caroline is doing now, shares her concerns over the way Caroline's foot turns out and the fact that she isn't walking yet. She has buried a son, a husband, and a daughter.

And today we talked of the past. She shared pictures of her son, of her daughter when she was healthy (I only saw her when she was very sick), and her husband. She shared stories of her husband who was paralyzed from the waist down after a freak accident. He was logging some trees, and the chain holding the logs snapped, and broke his back. The man never let it hold him down. He was inspiring. She wishes I could have met him. I wish I could have met him.

Who has changed in this story? Perhaps all of us. The little boy has gotten older. I am no longer in that state of shock after having our foster children and feeling the need to keep my girls quite so close to me. Time has a way of changing us. I'm not as selfish with our evenings. I have grown to love these people over the past two years. It's such a good reminder to not let those first interactions set in stone the course ahead. I'm grateful to God for softening my heart. In fact, we were unsure that there was a relative fit to care for our little neighbor boy if something should happen suddenly to his grandparents. After inquiring and finding that there was I was happy for him, but it showed me how my heart would have gladly taken him in if he needed us.

Two years ago I would have never imagined that what I once thought of as a tiresome burden would become one of the biggest blessings in my life. The blessing of friendship in unexpected places.

Comparison

Three weeks ago I found while scrolling through Instagram this Theodore Roosevelt quote shared by @goldenpaisleyshop .

Comparison is the thief of joy. Doesn't that sound like it should be in the book of Proverbs?

Those of you who follow me on Facebook or have purchased a sign from me in the past year will know that I stamp all of my work with a stamp made for me by 2Impress which reads:

I think it is nearly impossible not to compare. I find myself constantly looking at the art of other people and think "I could NEVER do that!". And yet here is an artist, GoldenPaisleyShop who does beautiful work that I admire, and even she falls into this trap of comparison.

This past weekend I had the opportunity to be a vendor at a beautiful outdoor market. Nearly all the vendors had some sort of signs. And it was so easy to find myself judging the work of others and constantly comparing myself to these other artists. Most of the vendors were selling painted furniture, and even hearing the chatter amongst other vendors each one had a little insecurity about their own work when compared with all these other vendors.

So how do we get past it? I think just being aware of how easily our joy is stolen as a result of comparison is a good place to start. Since it's something I've been thinking about for the past three weeks it was a little easier for me to try not to compare my work with the others around me at this event. I was able to celebrate over each item sold for myself and each vendor at the event. Because the reality is, these women put a lot of time into their work. And each piece was beautiful in it's own way. And my style might not be the right style for everyone, and that's okay!

Friends, don't let comparison steal your joy. Nice words, Teddy R. Nice words.