Today I mailed my first mortgage payment. It was a great feeling... very different from writing that rent check each month for the past three years. I am so thankful to have been blessed with this house and a means to pay for it.
Simplicity
This just showed up in my inbox, less than an hour after my previous post. How's that for confirmation?
I just saw this on one of my favorite new blogs and thought it was so appropriate:
Simplicity, many people think,
is an end in itself
But they're getting it backwards
Simplicity is the path, the means
It's not a far off destination,
somewhere in the future
It's right here, right now
It's taking things one at a time
It's asking simple questions
It's taking simple actions
It's doing it slowly
It's considering and being conscious,
with everything
When you find yourself becoming overwhelmed
on the path to simplicity
Taking a complicated, frenzied path
to get there
Stop, consider, and choose
the simpler path
And take it slowly
And easily
And lovely
God has a way of getting my attention
It's been a few days since my fall. Since I haven't been able to do much in the way of renovating or unpacking, I've had a lot of time about what this experience might be teaching me. I did manage to make it to my women's small group meeting on Monday night, where the topic is learning to discern the voice of God, and all that goes with that.
I've come to realize that my actions in the days leading up to the accident were symbolic of how I've led my life in the past. And I've been forced to remember what I always seem to forget - that living on autopilot (in other words, out of focus on the bigger purpose) has consequences. Since moving into the house and embarking on my very ambitious plans for the house, I've been receiving subtle warnings from family and friends. "Don't overdo it"... "There's no need to rush"... "You've got plenty of time"... "Rome wasn't built in a day." Intellectually, I knew all those things were true, and I knew they were right. But I lost sight of the process and focused instead on the end result.
Knowing that I couldn't climb back on that ladder to pick up where I left off when I fell, last night I simply sat in the middle of the kitchen floor with the cabinet doors that had already been removed. I slowly started scraping paint, not with the force I used before to get it done quickly, but with a slow, steady rhythm, focusing on each small area, sometimes literally removing one coat at a time. Even though I knew doing it this way was going to take me longer, and even though my new pace was warranted by necessity not design, immediately I knew that this was the lesson.
As I sat there scraping, I saw the subtleties in the wood and felt the changes in the grain. I saw imperfections in the prior paint jobs that would require a little more time and effort to repair, and most importantly, I was moving slowly and quietly enough to be able to feel God's presence in the process. In those moments, I was reminded that life is not about rushing towards a predetermined destination, it's about enjoying the journey and savoring those sweet, simple moments along the way.
I've come to realize that my actions in the days leading up to the accident were symbolic of how I've led my life in the past. And I've been forced to remember what I always seem to forget - that living on autopilot (in other words, out of focus on the bigger purpose) has consequences. Since moving into the house and embarking on my very ambitious plans for the house, I've been receiving subtle warnings from family and friends. "Don't overdo it"... "There's no need to rush"... "You've got plenty of time"... "Rome wasn't built in a day." Intellectually, I knew all those things were true, and I knew they were right. But I lost sight of the process and focused instead on the end result.
Knowing that I couldn't climb back on that ladder to pick up where I left off when I fell, last night I simply sat in the middle of the kitchen floor with the cabinet doors that had already been removed. I slowly started scraping paint, not with the force I used before to get it done quickly, but with a slow, steady rhythm, focusing on each small area, sometimes literally removing one coat at a time. Even though I knew doing it this way was going to take me longer, and even though my new pace was warranted by necessity not design, immediately I knew that this was the lesson.
As I sat there scraping, I saw the subtleties in the wood and felt the changes in the grain. I saw imperfections in the prior paint jobs that would require a little more time and effort to repair, and most importantly, I was moving slowly and quietly enough to be able to feel God's presence in the process. In those moments, I was reminded that life is not about rushing towards a predetermined destination, it's about enjoying the journey and savoring those sweet, simple moments along the way.
Progress Report
It's hard knowing that there's so much that needs to be done, but that I have to take a mandatory break because of the fall. While I like to consider myself an optimist, I'm also a perfectionist and I tend to focus on what still needs to be done, rather than how much I've already done. When I'm feeling this way, it usually helps to make a list of what I've done to serve as a visual reminder that I am making progress.
So here's my 4-week progress report:
- Purchased a new dishwasher and refrigerator and had them both installed.
- Purchased new flooring tiles.
- Ordered a new countertop.
- Removed ceramic tile from kitchen backsplash.
- Scraped most of the old pain (3 coats) from kitchen cabinets.
- Took classes at Home Depot on tiling, painting and kitchen renovation.
- Selected the perfect glass mosaic tiles for the kitchen backsplash.
- Planted a peach tree in the side yard.
- Found 2 end chairs for the dining room and the perfect arm chair for my bedroom from local thrift shops.
- Purchased fabric to make drapes for the kitchen and mudroom.
- Cleaned, primed and painted pantry and started putting foods away.
- Painted and lined shelves in linen closet.
- Purchased and installed temporary light-filtering window coverings.
- Had security system installed.
- Purchase new rugs for living room and dining room.
- Made compost bin and started to make compost.
- Hired a handyman who has done a lot of the heavy-duty repairs/updates that needed to be done.
- Unpacked (or moved) all boxes from living room and dining room.
A DIY disaster
I've just had my first official DIY initiation. Determined to get my upper kitchen cabinets prepped, primed and painted this week before the new countertop is delivered at the end of the week, I was on a role yesterday and on schedule for getting the job done. Until I fell off the ladder, that is.
The minute I realized I was falling things went to slow-motion, just like they do on TV. I immediately started praying that I wouldn't be seriously hurt. It wasn't until a few hours and several X-rays later that I realized how blessed I really use. I fell into a fairly small area, surrounded by the cabinets, the stove and the glass-front cabinet doors. It really is nothing short of a miracle that I didn't hit my head on anything or break the glass panes in the cabinet doors and cut myself. Other than feeling like I survived a full cycle tumbling in a commercial clothes dryer, I can't complain.
The minute I realized I was falling things went to slow-motion, just like they do on TV. I immediately started praying that I wouldn't be seriously hurt. It wasn't until a few hours and several X-rays later that I realized how blessed I really use. I fell into a fairly small area, surrounded by the cabinets, the stove and the glass-front cabinet doors. It really is nothing short of a miracle that I didn't hit my head on anything or break the glass panes in the cabinet doors and cut myself. Other than feeling like I survived a full cycle tumbling in a commercial clothes dryer, I can't complain.