Fickle

I love beauty. I need beauty. And I desperately need my home to be a nest, a place of beauty. Growing up, my home was far from safe or comfortable. So it seems that long before I was able to identify the source of this yearning, something in me wanted to make my home comfy and cozy.  For the most part, every birthday, Christmas, and anniversary gift I received was a contribution to my nest.   As I think about it, my home is actually a collection of all those special events. There’s a story behind every piece in my house … or at least I know exactly where I got it. (And probably know how I “negotiated” to get it, too)

Before I met Mr. Ten Days, I had, like many of us did, a list of what I wanted in a Husband.  Of course 99% of the list consisted of Godly characteristics, but…there were a few items on the list that were not about his character. Like, “if it’s not too much trouble, could he have cute legs? “And, “please let him like the way I decorate cause I really don’t think I can change that.” Thankfully, God said yes to both of those selfish prayers.

Mr. Ten Days, innocently walking into this setup agreement between me and the Lord, didn’t know what he had gotten himself into. Since we married on “the mainland” and I moved to Hawaii where Mr. Ten Days had been living, we couldn’t afford to ship wedding gifts. So, our friends graciously gave us money and we bought our household needs there.  Well, my idea of “needs” and my new husband’s turned out to be a little different. Since we didn’t drink coffee he didn’t seem to see the need for a sugar and creamer. Discussing this pressing matter one day in our first year, he asked, a little exasperated, when this furnishing the house was going to end?? I laid the whole truth right out there. “When you lay me in the ground”.

Twenty-three years later, I have to say Gregg has been a really good sport about my “creativity”. What I love and adore one year, a few years later may have lost its thrill.  This seems to baffle him. He just doesn’t understand the concept of my change of taste. In fact, it rather offends, and quite possibly makes him a bit nervous. “But I don’t understand baby, I thought you loved that piece…remember?” Working with this little quirk of mine, and a limited budget, it has been my great fortune that my friends also loved my “things”. I have sold, traded, and bartered my way from one lovely furnishing to another, and I have delighted in feathering my nest with the soothing overstuffed chaise lounge, the dining room table sturdy enough to seat many friends, and the plump pillows on the quilted bed.  All of these ‘objects’ are a little ministry of comfort that I love to extend to family and friends. 

And yet, I know that all these things are temporal. I know they don’t have a thing to do with eternity. But I also know that if my priorities are right and if I am frugal, and asking the Lord to guide me, even in this, that He loves it that our home is a refuge to our family and to so many that He has sent our way.

As my furniture affections ebb and flow, and sometimes take a 180 degree turn in this on-going adventure of building my nest, I have comforted Mr. Ten Days by saying: “Just be glad I’m not so fickle about husbands".