As I sit here this afternoon sipping a cherry sparkling water, I’m making good of the day by wrapping the remaining Christmas gifts I’ve been hiding in my closet and listening to the sound of rain falling on the windows in my bedroom here in South Carolina. After 14 years in Wisconsin, it was hard to believe there would ever be a time that I would live in a warm climate again and hear rain falling at Christmas rather than the grunting snow plows grating my street and the sounds of my own guttural yells as I dig out my Hyundai that’s been buried by the four -wheeled steel tsunami.
On the same token, I think about Christmas and have difficulty fathoming there was ever a time in my life that I didn’t believe in Jesus. But there was. Almost all of it.
Since moving away from home at 18, I have called many addresses home and have created “nests” on a handful of continents; creating peace in my unfamiliar surroundings by ordering new furniture as soon as I got off the boat and painting every square inch of drywall to create the fall sense of peace I was seeking. Maybe a new couch? Some colorful cookware? A painting by a local artist? I spent a lot of money shopping, seeking, and never quite finding satisfaction. I filled Christmas and the other 364 days a year with things like Tuscan vacations, expensive clothes, and culinary road trips; filling scrapbooks and shopping bags and feeling emptier every year.
It’s easy to use things—even good things—to create a fall sense of peace. I have been tricked into believing that a college education would bring peace only to find that student loan debt is suffocating and thinks it’s funny to beat on my chest like an Alex Van Halen drum solo in the wee hours of the morning while I try to sleep.
It was easy to think that a high-paying career would bring peace only to find out I’m corporate toilet paper–flushable well before lunch if the grand poohbah sees fit.
I even thought that not having children would bring me peace until I realized that at 44, I am now too old to have any say in the matter even if I did change my mind. I tell you, there is no peace in knowing that it’s simply just too late for something.
Peace is Ours for the Asking
I love what I do, and I love decorating. I love sharing how to create a peaceful and joyful space, but I would be robbing you of whole-hearted truth if I didn’t tell you that REAL peace comes from Jesus and making him the centerpiece of your home. And guess what? It’s paid for! Shiplap is nice, but the Shepherd is the real deal. Tastes and styles change, but the supernatural peace that comes from Jesus is unchanging and goes with everything, in every season of your life and you won’t go into credit card debt to obtain it or need to hire a contractor to install it.
So, as we share and sip and make and do this season, remember that peace doesn’t come from the size or price of your home or the cost of the furnishings or decorations in it, dear lady. You are worth more than your cost per square footage or what you paid for that Kitchen-Aid. God will never assess your value as a person based on the comps in your neighborhood. 😊 You are priceless. You are the daughter of the King.
After the holidays is a perfect time to refresh your home and your heart. Clear the clutter and find clean peace. Turn up the radio New Year’s Day and find some funky beats. Put on some coffee. Pull out a can of paint and make plans to whip a busted piece of furniture. Take some photos. Paint a picture. Talk to the Creator while you get creative and ask for His peace to cover your home and your heart in the New Year.
Make. Sip. Do–And Merry Christmas!