I was so shamelessly pleased with myself for my latest craft project (see pillow) that I've decided to post pictures of some of my favorite made-from-scratch items. (Anne, these are the first items in our store we may or may not open one day when we live in The Duplex.) Enjoy!
I found this chiffarobe (yeah, i didn't know it was called that until I found out from Kayla. Who knew? She did) at a garage sale for $25.00. It was a weird green-tinted wood, so i went ahead and painted the whole thing. Stan was skeptical. But, He ended up liking the colors after all. This used to be a puke-yellow mirror. I had planned on sanding it down to paint it something entirely different, but instead found this wonderful vintage white paint under the yellow. I used it for a while as a mirror, but when I moved it broke! Undaunted, I stole some potted plant hangers, and strung the "Grace" up by fishing wire. An excellent improvement upon a tragedy, I'd say! (The fall wreath is just for the lovely season ahead!)
The pillow on the bed is my latest endeavor. Don't look too closely - the seams aren't so pretty. But, I love the fabric and needed to redo the dilapidated pillowcase that used to be covering it.
And this is what I gave my sisters-in-law for Christmas (thanks, Katie Apple for the idea.) I think they enjoyed them...hopefully, since I gave myself 2nd degree burns in using the glue gun to get these puppies together. Owie. (please also note amazingly-cute chalkboard/calendar in the background. also a 'homemade' item.)
In Christ alone my hope is found, He is my light, my strength, my song; this Cornerstone, this solid Ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love, what depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease! My Comforter, my All in All, here in the love of Christ I stand.
In Christ alone! who took on flesh Fullness of God in helpless babe! This gift of love and righteousness Scorned by the ones he came to save:
Till on that cross as Jesus died, The wrath of God was satisfied -
For every sin on Him was laid; Here in the death of Christ I live.
There in the ground His body lay Light of the world by darkness slain: Then bursting forth in glorious Day Up from the grave he rose again! And as He stands in victory Sin's curse has lost its grip on me, For I am His and He is mine - Bought with the precious blood of Christ.
No guilt in life, no fear in death, This is the power of Christ in me; From life's first cry to final breath. Jesus commands my destiny. No power of hell, no scheme of man, Can ever pluck me from His hand; Till He returns or calls me home, Here in the power of Christ I'll stand
if i could, i would be paid to be a musician: violin, ukelele, harmonica, kazoo, whatever. there is just a life in music that i can't really explain, but only understand vaguely enough to pursue wildly.
i want to help people.
that sounds stupid and idealistic, but i do. at the very basis, i want my life to be in service for someone.
if i never had to reconcile a business account again, i wouldn't be sorry in the slightest.
i desire, crave, need, adventure.
i think i have allowed myself to be lulled to sleep by the drone of passing cars in a city during rush hour, and have forgotten what adventure is. and it's true: my adventure may very well be in another 9 to 5 job, but i am certain no shrub is safe from wild attacks of imagination from here on out.
i want to be known as an intercessor.
i believe in the power and movement of prayer, and i want it to be something that defines me. the only answer i have ever found to be uncompromisingly true has been something i've discovered in prayer.
i still believe that i follow Christ
and He changed me.
that may sound mystical or flimsy, but it's the Truth. i don't believe someone can be changed by imagination or even by their own will.
as backwards as this sounds - especially with a post with the majority of sentences beginning with "i" - i don't want my life to be about me. i've done that and it just turns into a self-pitying vortex of empty faster than i can take deep breaths to talk myself out of it.
True selflessness is that my mom always sits facing the house.
If you sit outside, and your back is to the house, it is nothing but greens and browns and trees and sky.
If you sit outside and you face the house, it is siding, an unkempt garden and a broken porch.
There is only one seat that faces the house and she always puts herself there, while the rest of us talk gaily and enjoy a late summer dinner under the Lime Tree, with a view of gardens and trees and green.