Day 24: New Paint, New Start (31 Days of Simple Truths)

When it came time to move last month, the whole process turned into a crazy whirlwind, the kind I’d hoped to avoid. In a very last minute turn of events, we ended up with a house that was not exactly what I hoped for. To be more precise, it was pretty ugly.

It’s an old home, and it needs a lot of updating. But it’s also a rental, so we don’t want to sink a lot of money into it. Still, we’re going to be here at least a year, so I’d rather not hate looking at it the entire time.

This weekend, my parents helped us buy paint, and then my dad spent his Saturday painting with us while my mom and brother kept the kids. (Can I mention here how grateful I am for my family? They’re the best!) While we still have a bit more to do, the contrast is already amazing. It’s fresh. It’s clean. Even though there are elements we won’t be able to do anything about while we’re here, I already feel so much more settled.

I hugged my dad tonight and told him tomorrow will be the first time in a month that I am excited to wake up in this house. Tomorrow, I’ll unpack my books and we’ll start putting things on the wall. Tomorrow, maybe this transition will start to feel less overwhelming and this place will start feeling more like home.

It seems crazy that something as simple as paint could make such a difference. I’m reminded that sometimes we complicate things. Maybe there is one simple step we need to take, just one, that can begin to shift things. Maybe the entire solution isn’t obvious in front of us, but one step could be enough to set the ball in motion.

What frustration have you been facing? Is there one thing you could do to push back and start the shift you are longing for?

Restless Shifting

Photo by Jennifer Upton

There is change coming.  So close I can almost taste it, not close enough to touch it.  Bumps of uncertainty lie in the path – possibilities of the change being delayed or perhaps not as smooth as we’d hoped.  But it is coming.  And I am restless.

Strange how a seemingly insignificant act can seem to trigger a chain reaction.  Last Wednesday, I went to get my haircut.  This alone was monumental because I haven’t been taking good care of myself.  Well, I’ve been trying, but mostly unsuccessfully.  Discouragement is a beast, and he was keeping me paralyzed.

Somehow I mustered up the will and made the appointment and set aside the money.  And on the way there, I resolved one more thing – when she asked how I was, I was going to tell her the truth.  Now, before you feel sorry for the unsuspecting hairdresser I might have bombarded, let me just say, this one is my friend.  I’ve known her for a lot of years; she was a bridesmaid in my wedding.  We don’t live close to her anymore, so I don’t see her often.  But I knew the truth would be safe with her if I could lay down my pride long enough to speak it.

Call me crazy if you like, but something powerful happened in the process of voicing my truth, allowing my own beauty to be poured into and most of all, receiving my friend’s words when she said, “Things are going to change. Soon.”  They were not the trite words of someone who didn’t know what else to say; they were spoken with the weight of knowing.  And within the next three days the wheels of change were set in motion.

And now we wait.  Some more.  But this time with a very bright light on the horizon.

The restlessness broods.  New questions come to replace the tired ones.  I discover (again) I am not my best self in these in-between seasons.  But I want to go into the new season healthy, with momentum, so I am making deliberate choices to pursue discipline with new fervor and to take hold of Rest even when she tries to be elusive.  Because afternoon tea and messy art projects and snuggles with my kids and lingering in my husband’s arms – these are the constants I can carry into the new season, however we get there, whenever we get there.

Can I offer you this encouragement?  Whatever approaching transition or change you face (because, remember – life is constantly cycling through seasons), find your anchor.  It may not be obvious.  It may not be easy.  But there is something in you that you carry in your heart from season to season.  Even if it is as simple as the daily ritual of slowing down to sip Earl Grey.  Find it.  Savor it.  There are things ingrained in your heart because it is a gift of God to you – the constants in the middle of life’s endless changing.

The restlessness may not leave all together, but it does not have to own us.