Bless This House

While house blessings are a tradition in many religions, the idea was new to me when I moved into my first home and wanted somehow to mark the occasion and ask for God’s protection and peace. After talking to friends, researching the idea, and remembering a sermon about how Joshua walked the perimeter of his property and asked for God’s blessing (Joshua 24:15), I decided to do the same for my new home.

I discovered that Los Angeles pastors reported a rise in house blessings, especially following an earthquake or natural disaster. Although earthquakes weren’t much of a threat in my Texas town, I gathered a few friends and family and prepared a simple ceremony using Bible verses and hymns.

The Quilts of Gee’s Bend

They’re mesmerizing—these quilts of Gee’s Bend.

Created by hand in a small rural community nestled into a curve in the Alabama River southwest of Selma, dozens and dozens of stunning covers were pieced by women who mostly share the same last name—after Mark Pettway who bought the Joseph Gee estate in 1850. Following the Civil War the freed slaves took the name Pettway, became tenant farmers for the Pettway family, and founded an all-black community nearly isolated from the surrounding world.

I look at these vibrant creations—imagined by women with very little education, opportunity, or voice—and see bold statements of creativity and originality. As if the fabric celebrates, shouts, or mourns where the women cannot. Colorful patterns made from worn scraps, tracing a hard and distorted history.

My Grandpa was from Alabama. Left home, so the story goes, when he was 16, somewhere around 1917 I’d guess. Life must be pretty hard when you leave home at 16. He battled alcoholism much of his life. I think about him when I gaze at these textured quilts.

With my Grandpa, Harvey Cecil Nunn (1901-1979)

The women who craft these quilts consider the process of piecing the “top” to be highly personal. In Gee’s Bend it is always created by a quilter working alone and reflects her artistic vision. The process of “quilting” the quilt—sewing together the completed top, the batting (stuffing), and the back—is sometimes then done together among small groups of women.

Drunkard's Path c. 1950

Much like the trials and journeys we often face…we work it out on our own, in quiet. Then our friends come ’round and help us finish. Piecing the bits and scraps of our life together into something utterly stunning.

ANNIE MAE YOUNG: "I just put some pieces together in my own head, in my own mind how I want it." (c. 1965 multiple-border quilt)

This gorgeous book, Gee’s Bend: The Women and Their Quilts (Tinwood, 2002), features many of the quilters, their stories, and creations. Beautiful in so many ways. What have you fashioned from the torn pieces of your life?

Sleep Sweetly

Two friends of mine have been fighting sleep for weeks. Desperately wanting to drift off as their heads hit the pillow, they just can’t.They’re in misery. Our bodies are designed for rest and quiet to restore, replenish, and recharge. They’ve tried warm baths, herbal tea, SleepWorks (great stuff, normally), and reading. But at 2 a.m. they’re still awake–minds darting to and fro.

Their bleary-eyed tossing leaves me sad. I've prayed for their rest and shared with them this little poem, which has been a gentle reminder for me throughout the years when I've found myself desperate for sleep but allowing my worries and fears to swirl untethered.

Many years ago at a National Religious Broadcasters Convention luncheon, Elisabeth Elliot shared a wonderful message about worry and trust--and tucked in these comforting words. I played the talk again again in my car (on cassette tape!) until I had committed the poem to memory. She remembers the words hanging in the room where she slept as a child and tells more of the story on the Back to the Bible Web site.

I've printed it on star-backed paper and framed it for several gifts. This one is on a shelf in my boys' room now. And I've sent it to my friends, with the hope that it might bring calm and peace.

How do you cast your cares away to drift off to dreamland?

P.S. These lullaby CD's offer restful tunes--not just for little ones:

Homemade Granola

From my friend Nicole F. (via Pam Anderson–Losing Weight & Eating Great)

  • 2 C. old fashioned oats
  • 1/2 C. wheat germ
  • 1/4 t. salt
  • 1/4 C. maple syrup
  • 3 T. vegetable or Canola oil
  • 2 T. warm water
  • 1 t. vanilla

EXTRA INGREDIENTS (your choice of any or all):

  • 1/2 C. chopped walnuts or almonds
  • 1/2 C. sweetened flaked coconut
  • 1/4 C. sunflower seeds
  • 2 T. sesame seeds
  • 6 T. your choice of craisins, dried apricot slivers, dried cherries, and/or dried currants

Minestrone Soup

From my friend Jill Duggar.

 

I’ve made this many times. It’s delicious topped with grated parmesan cheese and a dallop of Greek yogurt.

  • 6 C. water
  • 3 T. chicken base
  • 1 C. onion, diced into ½” pieces
  • ½ t. (1 clove) garlic, minced
  • 1 ¼ C. (2 whole) carrots, cut into ½” slices
  • 1 ½ C. (1 squash) zucchini, cut into ¼” half-circle slices
  • 1 14-oz. can diced tomatoes
  • 1 1-lb.can kidney beans, rinsed
  • 1 14-oz. can garbanzo beans (my addition)
  • ½ C. (2 oz.) uncooked macaroni

List Yourself

If you dream of leisurely, sun-filled afternoons for jotting your thoughts in your journal  but spend more of your time racing from one activity to the next, maybe try “listing yourself” instead. Just like making a grocery list or recording what you have to do today, list making is easy.

You don’t have to pour your heart out, record your days, or pass judgment. Yet you can quickly open the doors to your soul and reveal your deepest thoughts. For starters, try writing down everything that comes to mind with some of these lists:

  • the best gifts you’ve ever been given

A Time to Dance

It stared back at me from the glossy pages of the dance costume catalog–a gold lame and sequin-encrusted number with a fitted, bejeweled bodice. Its long sleeves and crystal-edged skirt would be the perfect backdrop (so said my tap dance teacher) for the accompanying feather boa, completing the ensemble. 

He had selected the outfit for our two numbers in the upcoming recital.  Since one was the big production song “Buenos Aires” from Evita, he had made a good choice. I just wasn’t so sure how I’d look in this get-up.  And I still couldn’t believe that this class of adults actually would perform…in a recital.  Aren’t recitals for kids and their camera-toting parents?

Talk About a Game

We didn’t watch much football at our house when I was growing up—maybe if the Ohio State Buckeyes played in the New Year’s Day Rose Bowl game or if our family invited friends over to watch the Super Bowl championship. 

So I was like a fish out of water after college when friends gathered to watch the sport. Mainly there for the fun and interaction, I didn’t pay much attention to what was happening on the field.  But everyone was into it, and I was left out. Listening to what my friends said while spectating, I started asking questions about why they said what they did. Not surprisingly I began to learn more about the rules…and actually enjoy the game.

Letters to Read on a Bad Day

My first job out of college I worked for gifted entrepreneur Dale Hanson Bourke at her consulting firm, Publishing Directions, Inc. She taught me so many things about running a business, client relationship development, and a brilliant method for proofreading and catching mistakes on a page!

One day in a file drawer, I spotted a folder labeled “Letters to Read on a Bad Day.”  She created it after receiving a nice letter on a bad day and decided to save it.  More than 25 years have passed, and she still has the file and uses it!

The Year without a Christmas Tree

January 6. Epiphany—the day I like to wait for before taking down the Christmas tree. Driving around town,  I noticed it seems to be the day for town square trees to come down, too.

I grew up in a family that put up a tree the day after Thanksgiving and left it standing until well into January. The year we got a new, artificial tree (before pre-lit ones came on the scene), my dad spent hours wrapping 21 strands of white lights around each branch (and even in a way—if memory serves—that would allow the tree to be taken apart with the strands still on to be put away for the next year). He lamented that he would never do that again and hoped we would enjoy the illuminated masterpiece.