Springtime Purpose

It's a season of re-purposing for me. Life has been that way, and usually when the Lord is doing something in my soul, it spills out into my house. (So, as long as you keep your eyes open, and have an insightful heart, you'll probably be able to guess my state-of-soul.)

Last week's project was a really fun one. The neighbors across the street must have been doing some spring-cleaning, and, fortunately for me, their taste differs from mine. They threw this lovely old desk out on the curb to be picked up by the garbage collectors.

Thankfully, I had two strong men around to pick it up for me and carry it across the street under the cover of darkness. Thanks, guys, you're great!

[Big round of applause for these two. ]

Now, I had only seen this desk from afar, so when it was graciously brought indoors, I knew my suspicions of its loveliness had been well-founded. It's minus all the drawers (no idea what happened there), but beautifully made. Old and sturdy. Right away, I set out to clean it up with a mild solution of Mr. Clean and warm water. It was a bit grimy, but that was soon taken care of.

[Really fun numbers scrawled across the back]

The next issue to address was the top of the desk. The veneer was quite scratched, in some places, down to the under-layer of wood, so I knew some sanding would have to be involved.

[Kind of a messy inside project, but that's what vacuums are for!]

After the sanding and a bit of wiping down with a damp paper towel, I decided on a painted surface for the top of the desk. I happened to have some leftover chalkboard paint from a previous crafting project, so that became my paint-of-choice.

[I've always been really happy with the final results whenever I do a project with this stuff.]

After 3 simple coats of chalkboard paint (and a little drying time in between), my desk was ready to become an organizing station for my crafting supplies.

[Blur of a dog named Buddy. He was awfully excited about this restoration process.]

Since the desk was missing all of its drawers, I decided to look for some bins to stand in place of drawers. I found some lovely ones of various sizes on sale at Target.

[Lower Level: Chalk-board front bins for painting supplies and kid crafts
Middle Level: Painted wire bins for ribbons and hot-glue gun crafting bits
Top Level: Drawer openings hold sheet music from Anna Mae Vintage's inventory, while a deep, slender drawer-organizer serves as a catch-all for small bits and pieces in place of the middle drawer.]

After I finished stocking the shelves, I used the top of the desk to store Anna Mae Vintage's supply of vintage book decor, and I even started some ornamental wheat-grass seed on one corner of the desk, courtesy of the desk lamp, of course.

Spring is for growing things, cleaning things up, and starting again, in life, and in the house.

Happy Spring, Everyone!

When You Grow Up

Yesterday, a friend asked me about my wildest childhood dream. 

"What's the craziest thing you wanted to be when you grew up?" she said. Honestly, I really had no answer, and as it happens with most questions that I'm not expecting, I ended up thinking about it long afterwards. 

And so last night, I tried to put myself in my perceptions of life as a little girl. I didn't dream of being a firefighter or an astronaut. I didn't imagine exploring a jungle or saving the day as a doctor or a nurse. In fact, I was probably one of the only little girls out there who didn't grow up planning her wedding! (Truthfully, it's never happened.) 

I know that I lived in expectation and dream. Childhood has a rosy glow of hope and excitement in my memory. That was the atmosphere that colored the season. So as I thought about why I didn't have any big expectations or goals for myself as a little girl, I realized that my overall sense of security and excitement came from love, not from doing. My sense of myself-my hopes, dreams and aspirations, were never tied up in something that I would someday achieve. They were tied up in belonging. 

I knew, deeply, that I was loved, by my parents and by the Lord. This love filled up my little personhood, and I knew that this love was for who I was in the present, not who I would be someday. My parents always told me that I could do anything I dreamed, but they never suggested that those "anythings" would increase my worth. They loved me, and still do, simply because I am theirs. 

And that planted a seed of contentment deep down in my soul, and a trust that the Lord's love, like my parents', would always be for me. The security of the Father's love sends down roots into my soul, deep down into the bedrock of Jenny Claire Tokheim. And roots of that sort will support a tree more steadfast than I can imagine, with branches whose directions I can only dream about right now. Expectation, hope, excitement--all of those still remain.

I'm still not too worried about what I'll be when I grow up either, because I trust that who I'm becoming has always been about whose I am, not what I'll do. The doing is important, don't get me wrong, but I trust that the achievements of my life will always be more profound when they're endeavored for in the strength of His love, not out of my need for accomplishment. 

Let His love be your source today, Dear Reader. Let His love be your strongest motivation and your most steadfast security. 

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are." 

-1 John 3:1