Slowing Down for Beauty

When you think of beauty, what pops in your mind?

Maybe a flawless face, a certain piece of music, a rose. Beauty can be seen in many different ways and different people appreciate different applications of beauty. But all beauty is appreciated more with time and attention.

When we see something beautiful we want to stop and consider it, look closer. It’s sometimes difficult to put into words why something strikes us. Other times we immediately put our finger on why we call it beautiful. But to fully savor the thing or moment or experience, we have to slow down and give our attention.

The reality of this fully took form when Tommy and I went to Paris last year. We were able to experience amazing food, incredible historical sites, and surround ourselves in completely new things at every turn. One of the top things on my list of “want to dos” when we were planning our trip was to visit Musee de l’Orangerie {Orangery Museum} where the famous Waterlily paintings by Monet are.

I don’t know exactly when I started loving them, but Impressionist paintings are my favorite style and Paris museums are filled with Monet, Degas, Renoir, and a host of others. But l’Orangerie is especially magnificent because Monet himself worked on the plan to renovate the building, planning how his studies of the waterlilies from his garden pond would look on display. The panels are over two yards tall and when put together are almost 100 yards wide. Stretching in ovals around two rooms, there really is nothing like it.

The immensity of the paintings hits you, especially when you’ve only seen them in books. While the paintings weren’t the tallest or the most detailed paintings we saw, the scale of them arching around the room, the calming colors set off by stark white walls, and the quiet as visitors took them in was beautiful.

But while Tommy and I stood in the middle of the room and I attempted to etch every color and detail into my memory, other tourists were there for an entirely different reason. They stood at the painting, back toward the masterpiece, and smiled for a friend to capture the moment on camera. Picture secure, they headed to the next room, some of them spending less than a minute before Monet’s 30 years of work.

Can you appreciate the beauty of the thing and the experience in such a blink? You certainly can’t capture the whole painting or the feeling in a snapshot. These were not beauty seekers. They were focused on the adage, “If I have a picture of it, it happened.” Or maybe, “If I post it on social media, it happened.” We saw similar tourists at Versailles, the Louvre, even restaurants. So absorbed in their phones, their pictures, their posts that they didn’t care about what surrounded them.

What a waste of beauty! Maybe you believe they took those photos and look at them and reflect on what they saw now, months after the trip. But I doubt it. If you can’t appreciate beauty when you are in the moment, will you ever have time to look back? And it won’t be the same.

Sunsets are my favorite. I love the splash of color that is ever changing. No two sunsets are the same; the temperature, the air quality, the position of the sun makes each one a unique painting from God. And try as I might, a picture of a spectacular sunset is never the same as watching it happen in real time. Same with rainbows. Pictures never seem to capture the colors, the expanse, the shimmer of a rainbow. To fully enjoy them, we must slow down and look right then! So it is with all beauty.

Our society seems to be based on a breakneck pace. Do more, faster! Be more productive in less time! These types of attitudes don’t go well with savoring experiences, looking for beauty, and enjoying what’s in front of you. The thought something better is just after this moment keeps us from finding contentment where we are and slowing down. We think if we slow down we’ll miss something but the truth is, in our race to the next thing, we’re missing hundreds of beautiful things and moments.

Don’t stand with your back to the masterpiece and rush to the next photo op. Look around, enjoy the moment now, while it’s here, and you might be surprised that you can find beauty in so many things.

Photo by Richard Hedrick on Unsplash

Sharing Our Burdens

I love to share and talk about so many different things. And, probably like you, I find myself talking about different things with different friends.

Motherhood and homeschooling dominate many of my conversations with many of my friends because we are in the trenches! Teaching, discipling, raising the children God has given us, and I need encouragement and advice from them. Other friends share creative hobby interests with me and we compare notes on flower gardens, books, and watercoloring.

It isn’t wrong to have specific topics and things that create a bond with a friend. It’s a healthy, helpful way to grow friendships and to grow ourselves as we learn and interact. But do you ever feel unable to talk about spiritual things with your friends? Does it embarrass you to ask for prayer? Do you struggle to bring a Bible reference into the context of a regular conversation?

I believe sometimes in our Christian lives, it becomes easy to compartmentalize and not view regular parts of our days as being spiritual. Is there really a Bible verse for everything? Well, no, not specifically. However, the Bible does give us verses and principles that are to be applied to every aspect of life.

For instance, when we don’t feel like folding another hamper of laundry, we can be reminded that, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” {I Cor. 10:31} Or, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” {I Thess. 5:16-18} No, this doesn’t speak to folding laundry itself, but rather to the attitude we are to have in whatever we find ourselves doing.

How do we bring this back around to friends? I have found for myself that I can get so carried away in the topic of conversation that I only insert my “wisdom” rather than adding biblical wisdom. I let my opinions and thoughts direct the conversation more than what the Bible has to say about it. It’s not wrong to have an opinion about things but how do I view my opinion and how do I present it to others?

I’ve also found myself hesitant to ask for prayer or wisdom at certain times. It’s not that I don’t trust my friends for good advice; it’s more pride that I don’t want them to know what I’m struggling with. I have times when it’s easy to let me daily Bible reading slip. I shouldn’t be too embarrassed to text a friend and ask her to keep me accountable. Is one of my children struggling with rebellion? Asking a friend or family member to pray is a good idea.

God created us to live in community. He instituted marriage and family and church. He wants us to commune with one another, love one another, forgive one another, help one another. And ultimately, to serve God together. We do these things best when we are honest about our struggles, open about burdens, and when biblical wisdom flows easily from our lips.

Photo by Johannes W on Unsplash

What I've Learned about Creativity

If you asked me ten years ago if I was creative, I would have said no.

To me, creativity meant artistic talent, original ideas, perfection in making things. And I didn’t feel any of those applied to me. I considered myself imaginative. I wrote stories, had conversations with myself, could look at something and see it a different way. But creativity and imagination weren’t the same thing, at least I didn’t think so.

My journey of creativity began as a child. I loved to color, but not draw. Stick figures were my go-to and when I attempted something else, the proportions were always off. I remember watching Bob Ross on Saturday mornings — I even got out paper, paint, and brushes — and becoming more convinced I lacked creativity because my trees never looked happy; they were blobs of green with streaks of brown for a trunk.

I loved to read and write stories so I took that to mean my only form of creative expression was words. I majored in journalism, continued to write, read stacks of books, and journaled and made lists about everything. Free time in my college and early married years continued to be focused on books and writing. Then I went to a ladies church activity where we made jewelry with beads and wire and fancy clips. I bought some supplies at Hobby Lobby and made an assortment of earrings and necklaces, but it didn’t seem creative to me. I was just following someone else’s pattern and idea.

When my daughter was about two, my crafting adventures really took off. She loved all things cutting, pasting, coloring. When my mom would visit, they would sit and watch Pinterest tutorials and create a dozen different animals with paper plates, suncatchers from tissue paper, paper chain snakes, and colorful cards. My daughter’s skills increased with age and soon, she could figure out how to make just about anything she thought up, no instructions needed. 3D flower arrangements, ballerinas that twirled, her own puzzles; I was blown away by her creativity and ability to make her designs a reality.

But it also forced me to think about what creativity means. Even though she was gifted at visualizing how to put something together, she still had to learn to hold scissors, she had to try and crumple and start again. And sometimes she was copying an idea or pattern, but it never looked exactly like the example. Her own take on it was always present.

Around the time my son was entering the craft age, I read “Life Creative: Inspiration for Today’s Renaissance Mom.” I’ll admit, I felt like anything BUT a Renaissance mom. I was spending my time on laundry, feeding my family, trying to keep the house clean, learning how to homeschool a kindergartener with a toddler who wouldn’t let me out of sight. I barely managed my favorite pastimes — reading and writing — let alone the variety of pursuits I attributed to a “Renaissance Woman.” However, even though I loved being a mom, I enjoyed being with my kids and watching them learn, I still found in myself a desire to learn something new. And that’s what drew me to the book.

The authors talked about balance, how we create in different ways, the importance of our kids seeing us try…and fail…and try again. So much of it resonated with me. So I decided to step out and try things I’d written off as having no talent for. My daughter and I made cards with scrapbook paper, baked together, tried oil pastel crayons. Some things we tried once and decided to move on but other endeavors we kept coming back to.

That leads us to 2020…the year of infamy. With all our plans and schedules scratched out, the future a question mark, I had trouble concentrating. I wrote in my journal and read but my mind was always wandering. With spring flowers blooming, I found myself drawn toward anything of beauty. I randomly stumbled on a YouTube channel with simple flower doodles. Even with my limit stick figure drawing skills, these flowers looked doable. So I tried and kept watching. The channel included introductions to loose watercolors and that seemed doable too. I ordered the cheapest supplies and started.

I was amazed how relaxing it was! Watching water and color pool and move across the page. I needed practice but I enjoyed every bit of the process, even when my flowers all looked the same. I searched for other beginner watercolor sites, watched videos on color mixing, blending, brush types and holds. I wrote out Bible verses and framed them in watercolor vines and leaves and rosebuds.

My kids watched along and joined in. I wondered what other things I might enjoy that I had never taken the time for, assuming they were too hard for me, that I wasn’t talented enough, that I would be wasting my time trying. I set up a game table in the basement and pulled out a puzzle. Last spring, Tommy cut a section of our background grass out and I filled it with flower seeds, hesitant because I knew nothing about gardening but drawn to the appeal of nature and beauty and outdoors.

Now, I want to say there is such a thing as natural talent. No amount of practicing my violin will turn me into Hilary Hahn. However, unlike how I used to think, you don’t have to master something or be perfect at it to be creative or enjoy the learning process. Part of creativity is experimenting, trying something just to see how it turns out, learning what is fun and relaxing and enjoyable.

I have loved the process of creativity for myself! I feel no pressure to master a certain skill; I just learn and enjoy the process. When people used to ask what my hobbies were, I would say reading. Which, don’t get me wrong, I still love to read. But now I also like to watercolor, doodle, garden {flowers, not vegetables}, work puzzles. I have friends who make amazing crafts and decor, who knit and crochet, bake bread and sweets. My daughter loves origami and drawing and sewing. So many creative outlets!

My husband has been talking about the creation account with our kids during family devotions, and I love to think about how creative God is, to give us the plant, animal, and geographic variety that surrounds us. He made such beauty and diversity, all with a word. When we display our small attempts at making, we are mirroring our Creator. We are acknowledging the design and purpose he has given everything. Out of all the things he created, humans are the only ones capable of creating close to the same way. No, we can’t make something physically appear just by speaking. But we can imagine a project or item or idea and set about forming it, using clay, wool, paper, words. Creating something for our enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.

Now if you ask me if I’m creative, I would say yes. I’m not perfect at any one thing, I haven’t mastered any of my hobbies. But honestly, is that even the point? I’m here to encourage you to pick up a paintbrush, grab some embroidery floss, sharpen a pencil, or buy that French pastry cookbook. Maybe it’ll look more like a Pinterest fail the first few attempts. But find something you love, something that forces you to slow down, and simply try. Creativity is part of everyone, just in different ways.

Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash

Joy in Lingering

We are a society bent on going.

The pace at which we feel we must live is exhausting, even for the most ambitious person. Messages of hustle, keep going, push in, try harder, be more, have it all…these are all about going even when you’re falling asleep standing up.

They are also all about you. What YOU can do. What YOU need to strive for. Why YOU need to keep going.

There are definitely times when life demands a lot. There are moments when you have to just keep going even through fatigue. But these shouldn’t dominate us or be the norm.

I used to view life as a checklist of things to get through. What did I HAVE to do before I could read or write or craft or just take a break? And I realized that my checklist was never complete. When I neared the end, something would come up that needed my attention and the list would grow.

So then I thought the answer was to rush. Clean quickly. Rush through meal prep, eating, and cleanup. Skim books, multitask everything possible. But the checklist was never complete and I was more exhausted and actually accomplishing less. And I certainly wasn’t enjoying anything.

Then one day, I was at a friend’s house. Susan is a busy interior designer and she easily has 50 tabs open in her brain at all times of things she’s working on. But as she was moving around her kitchen preparing our meal, there was nothing rushed. She took joy in every aspect of the moment. She chopped the onion precisely, sometimes stopping as she thought of the right word to describe something to me. She carefully folded the napkins for the table. She arranged the food on each plate to perfectly match. She wanted to give her best effort at where she was then, what she was doing then, and leave the next task for when this one was completed and enjoyed. No use to rush. The next thing would still be there after dinner.

I realized with young kids these stylized meals would be difficult for me to duplicate. However, I could adopt a less frenzied attitude in what I did. And I could change my thinking from a HAVE to checklist to a GET to checklist. I realized that my frustration with certain tasks was based on my attitude toward them. It’s a joy to have food to feed my family. A privilege to have a nice kitchen to work in. A blessing to sit and savor time together as we review our day as a family.

All those things were missing when I was hustling to get done with that to get on with something else.

I believe we miss out on realizing so many blessings around us because we’re too busy running from thing to thing to notice what just happened. And often things that should be a blessing are phrased as a complaint. We don’t feel we are ungrateful but we certainly aren’t thankful!

So I’ve been attempting {and it’s not always easy} to linger a little longer when I’m in the midst of things. I turn on music and sing along while I cook. I make a cup of hot tea and sit to enjoy it. I fold laundry and let my thoughts wander over the funny moments of the day. I don’t try to make things pass quickly. I don’t fill every moment with noise or tasks. I allow myself to just sit and pray.

And I find a new enjoyment and thankfulness in small, lingering moments.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

An Unhurried Life

Our fall schedule has started and that means things are quite a bit busier for us!

Summer wasn’t exactly the restful, quiet time I always hope it will be. But fall brings on a different kind of routine and busy. School, piano lessons, Bible studies, AWANA. And then we have special things like playdates, parties, and field trips.

I guess what I’m saying is there is no ‘restful season’ that will magically happen. Each change of the calendar and tick of the clock brings a new, different type of hurry and bustle and rush.

I’ve always thought it amazing that some people seem immune to the hustle mentality. They get done what needs to be done without running, frantic lives.

One of the most slow paced people I’ve known was my Grandma Short. She got a lot done in a day but she didn’t do anything quickly. Everything that was worth doing was worth doing well. Making pie crust, ironing, watering flowers. Grandma didn’t run or rush.

I remember shopping with Grandma and Grandpa when they visited us. Grandma looked at every shirt on the rack, touched the fabric, slowly moved the hangers to get to the desired size. She didn’t feel rushed, even when the rest of us moved ahead. But she also never seemed concerned about falling behind. She knew what she needed to get done in a day and that was what she got done.

Grandma didn’t neglect others in her to-do list. She wasn’t so focused on the tasks that she didn’t cultivate relationships. My Grandpa owned two businesses in a small town and he and my Grandma were born and raised in that area. They knew most of the people in town and people knew they could drop by for a chat. There were many times when people would knock and yell “Hello!” and Grandma would answer and welcome them in for a visit. It didn’t matter that she was in the middle of laundry or dishes or baking.

When we would visit, we would often go on the back patio after dinner. It was sometimes the first time all day my Grandma had sat down except for eating meals. But she didn’t complain or draw attention to how much she’d gotten done or hadn’t accomplished. She would sit and visit and laugh and comment on the nice evening and wave at every person who walked by.

I didn’t really notice her contentment with life and her patience with tasks as a child but as I’ve gotten older and felt the weight of responsibility and everything that needs to be done, I look back at my memories of her and long for her unhurried approach to life.

It’s not just about a slower pace. It’s also about being content with what we can do in a day and maybe scaling back on expectations. With modern conveniences and technology, I believe some of our frustration is we think we can do more in a day than we actually can. And when we fail to do it all, instead of focusing on a few tasks the next day, we believe we just have to wake up earlier, hustle more, stay up later.

This is certainly something I need to try harder at and do not have the perfect answers for. But it is something I recognize in my life as needing to change. I need to set my priorities more realistically so I’m not rushing from task to thing to place. I need to recognize my limits and accept them.

Living an unhurried life doesn’t mean not getting things done or living in slow motion. It’s a mindset of living within our limits and being content. With not trying to do it all everyday. And trusting God with our efforts.

Photo by Theme Photos on Unsplash