Tip of My Iceberg

It’s been over a year since we redid our home. Repainted. Re-floored. Refreshed what was old and broken down.

In the process, we removed all the pictures and doodads from the walls. Not that there’d been a lot of rhyme or reason to how things went up in the first place. But it all came down.

For fourteen months the walls have been bare as a baby’s backside.

I was getting used to the lack of decor. I personally have no sense of creating style when it comes to decorating. I like what I see when I see it finished, but I’ve not got the knack of putting things together so they look like something other than things vomited randomly on a wall.

My daughters have been on my case to do something. We’ve a plethora of pictures and things that could go up, and they offered frequently to help their style-starved mom get into her creative groove.

There was never the time.

Really, I didn’t make the time. It seemed to be one of those things that could easily be put off.

Again and again.

So, for my birthday, Heather and Tiffany and their spouses and adopted daughter Amy created a wall. A focal point of style.

When you go from nothing to something spectacular, it takes your breath away. I was stunned.

There are old pictures of John and me growing up. Pictures when the kids were younger–most of which they don’t like, but it does tell a story. Our family name.

And the word “family” in the middle.

It’s us. It’s what we’re about. It’s what we’ve done since living in this house. A work begun and continuing.

We’re a family.

The details make me stop and look. I remember the circumstances when these pictures were taken. I remember what it’s always been like getting everyone to smile at once. To pose. To be together.

There’s a clock on the wall that reminds me of the incessant passing of time. These are memories captured for a moment. Times that will never be again. Funny moments. Cherished moments.

Family.

I didn’t realize how much I wanted those walls to be filled with things that mattered until they were filled. I didn’t know it would mean that much to me until it was done. Moments of memory that make me smile.

Life is a bigger picture of this. The walls of my life are often so filled with the minutia I feel is essential that I forget to focus on the meaningful moments that make it worthwhile. Those things that were hard but made me a better person. Those times of pain that grew me up. Those times of joy that will always bring a deep sense of pleasure.

God has given me all those moments. A work He began in me that He will finish with style.

“There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.”   Philippians 1:6

We’ve all got ideas about what we’re good at. How our lives would look better. But the One with the bigger picture, the better Stylist, is God.

He’s the Master Craftsman.

It’s comforting to know my walls are in the right hands.