Why Write?

Writing does something for me. I dont' know what it is, but it fuels something in my soul. It brings out thoughts I can't seem to articulate with my lips. It's the camcorder for the moments, days and years of my life. I can look back over 20 plus journals that cronical the last 10 years and see where I was and where I am now. I can see the beautiful ways the Lord has heard His daughter and answered. I can see the growth of my faith, the lack of faith in dark seasons, the struggles, the fear, the joy, the thankfulness. All of it. All of life staring back at me from the pages.

I see the journeys of faith. Single. College. Boyfriends. India. Peru. Mexico. Philly. Full-Time Ministry. Married. Saying hello to in-laws. Saying good-bye to my father. Attempting full time student-hood again. Starting and ending a business. Deep financial struggle. Moving across the country. Darkness. Joining the community that's becoming family. Reconciliation and Redemption. Buying a home. Saying hello to a step-family. Becoming a Mother.

When I get a new journal, I always sit for a moment staring at that first blank page. I don't know what it is about it, but there is something inviting. Something beckoning to me to record life. To fill the pages with the beauty and the strife that is the life we all live. A place to be real. To be honest. To be naked.

I am thankful for the writing. Thankful I have recorded life in this way. Reading back reminds me of where we have been, where we are, and where we will be one day soon.

Reading takes me right back to the full emotional brunt of whatever was flowing that day. My tenuous personality is obvious. My fear, faithlessness, begging and tears are clear. And alongside, His faithful oozes from the pages. His truth screams freedom. And I remember. I thank. And I rest.

How do you rest?

A question that the hubs and I have often posed to one another is: "How do you rest?" The question is continually directed toward me, as, I find it hard to rest. I find it hard to find how I rest.

Most people can tell you something that revives their spirit.

If I can just get a cup of tea and curl up in that chair...

I need a bubble bath and a glass of Shiraz...

Coffee at that shop on the corner, wrapped up in the scents, calming music and my favorite book...

Candlelit dinner with my love...Gardening...driving...playing my instrument...painting...scrapbooking... pedicure...spa day...shall I go on??

Yet, here I sit. 24 hours ago, I was crying and yelling at my soulmate. Because. I. Can't. Rest. I can't find that magical one thing that revives my spirit and helps me feel centered again. He is more than willing to watch our child so I can "get out." But, the question always sits heavy. A bowling bowl that leaves the hand wrong on its journey down the lane. Dropping with a mighty thud on the wood. What is my thing I want to do?

And here I find myself. Planted behind my keyboard. Typing. Words flowing. And weight lifting. Could this be the thing? The thing I can do to find release and rest in the midst of my crazy "un-restful" moments? Or could it be a mixture of all of the above? The gardening, pedicures, wine and these words, all mixed together in a beautiful life casserole. All the flavors are always present, but consistently changing based on the bite you take.

I don't have a clean ending to this post for I am continually in process. Thanks for journeying along with me.

The Great Door Project of 2011

  Strange Fact about our home...

It. Has. No. Doors.

Well, no interior doors anyways. 

Except for the bathroom, of course. 

Who has a bathroom without a door?

I can hear you saying it ..."Well, Julie, who has a house with no doors?!"

Touché, my friend, touché.

We have some dear family visiting in the next few weeks, and my mommy radar started going off that we needed a bedroom door for the ninja. Generally, its not too loud or busy round our lil casa, but that is all about to change as we welcome the Southards' (Randy, Breeze & Brisha) on Easter weekend and Dave's brother and his family (Rob, Megan, Jack and Afi) the following weekend.

We dug the old doors out of the garage and got to work. These are the original wood doors that were built, I assume, when the house was in 1929. They have not been refinished before, to the best of our knowledge, but have been painted a few times! Dave hooked me up with the Paint thinner and I got ta strippin'! (the door, that is...)

So, far, we have one side completely stripped and ready for sanding. Still to go, the edges and other side. The pictures don't do this job justice, but hopefully you can see the difference by looking where the hardware was before we took it off. 

Dave is also doing some mighty fine work to the hardware, but you'll have to wait for those pics till later! For now: Enjoy! 

The door before stripping. Note color around where hardware was.

Pre-Stripping. Note color around where hardware was

Door knob assembly. Refinished pictures will be coming soon!

Doesn't this just scream Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew mystery?! Love it!

Great shot of the layers of paint. Yah. Pretty sure that's lead . (Don't worry, we are taking appropriate precaution.)

Post Paint removal. Ready for sanding!

My super smart hubs figured out how to get the paint out of these crevices without  me loosing my mind! Little nylon brush and a paper towel. Viola!