It has been a very busy day, but it has also been a good one. The house has remained fairly clean, Bard spent the afternoon doing laundry, I have clean sheets on my bed, The Baby is asleep, the other children are in bed reading, and I had several nice conversations today.
One of the best conversations came when I arrived home after an outing with my dear Bo. I opened my e-mail and found a note from A Circle of Quiet. She reminded me in this blog post that it's okay to enjoy the beautiful things in life and she had reiterated that in a very articulate way in her note to me.
I do know that beauty is real, but naysayers close to me have attempted, with some success, to squelch my love for the lovely things. There's a trend in our culture to ridicule those who love beauty, to attempt to pull them down into our mediocrity, and when I admit my love of beauty, even to myself, I feel shallow and vulnerable, like the addlepated Anne of Green Gables who was so often twitted about her romanticism.
Yet I think the Lord is trying to tell me something about my love of beauty, because it has been a theme in my life, especially lately, to accept beauty. In reading Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge, I've seen that there is nothing at all wrong--in fact, it's completely natural--for women to love beauty.
This evening, Bo and I took a ride to claim a FreeCycle item and I was touched again by simple beauty, this time in the form of an old cast-iron farm sink. Even though it was sitting in the frozen mud when we arrived, my breathing was practically stilled when I saw it. I had romantic visions of a farm wife washing dishes while looking out over her family's land. Yesterday, as I looked out my bedroom window, I could see my chickens--hens and roosters--out in the yard pecking around under the swing. Framing the window was part of my collection of blue glass, things that my mother-in-law has given me and things I've collected over the years. This morning, I held a tiny, fragile baby bunny. It nuzzled against my fingertips, searched for a place to warm itself, and then curled up and fell asleep in the palm of my hand. I gazed, amazed, at the tiny paws, the whispy whiskers, the miniature ears and the new fur that was growing all over its little body, and I was in awe.
Yes, there's realism in the dirty laundry. Yes, it's honest to admit that they kitchen table is never fully clean. But, as A Circle of Quiet reminded me, things that go right, things that are lovely and beautiful...those things are real, too.
Thank you, aCoQ, for that thought-provoking interlude in my day.
Philippians 4:8 (New International Version)
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
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