Saturday, October 15, 2011

Day 15 of Seasoning: Mending

We are almost halfway through the 31 days challenge! I hope you have enjoyed this as much as I have. This has been a frightening task for me; I'm a planner, and none of these 31 days have been planned. Rather, I walk through each day, looking for the Grace Window. Sometimes it is the first thing I see in the morning, but often it is while I'm fighting sleep that I recognize the moments of Grace. I don't want to forget, so they are written here. I have no idea what tomorrow's Grace moment will be, but we are on this journey together. Thank you for coming with me, dear friends!

My mom and dad are teachers. I'm a TK "Teacher's Kid". As a TK, you experience life a little differently than other kids may. Your school days start early, because your mom teaches at the school you attend, and you play on her chalkboard until the bell rings. You also have no hope of misbehaving; your teachers will probably be having a staff meeting with your momma that very afternoon. Your grades might as well be public knowledge and posted on the internet, because your parents do this for a living and know that you are capable of more than you think you are...and there is probably a staff meeting that day...

The best part of being a TK was the summer. We weren't rich, but I thought we were. My dad worked an extra job in the summer to pay for the anticipated beach trip. My mom worked at a preschool program when we were old enough to help and gave us the money she made. Despite these extra jobs, we had family time galore. Daily pool trips with a packed lunch, yardwork early Saturday mornings, Sunday church services complete with a homemade lunch and some sort of fun dessert. The one thing that I never understood until now was the annual Summer Project, created and executed by my Martha Stewart Mother. Somehow, martha momma's projects always involved paint.


Kitchen cabinets (which are a post all their own), dressers, rooms, kitchens...All desperately crying out for sanding, primer, paint, and a change. We helped, but I didn't get it. I didn't understand why she had this urge to completely change something that seemed ok to me. I get it now, though. I've taken on the unspoken blessing of the Martha mantle. I'm Martha Anna, and it is deeper than paint. It is more than creating beauty. It is not about keeping up with the latest trend. It is about Mending.

Mending...All of those items that needed paint or changing would have continued to serve their purpose whether we touched them or not. But, my martha momma knew they hadn't reached their full potential. They needed sanding, priming, and sweaty summer days to shape into what my mom knew they could be. She saw beauty in the projects, and this made her happy.

It wasn't about turning the objects or rooms into something they weren' was about mending the cracks and crannies, brushing creamy white paint over tired wood, and breathing new life into something that had given up.

Mending...I sit here now, years later in my own home, and I realize that at least every month I think about painting something. I have a piece of furniture in my den that is screaming for a different color. It needs some mending. When I look at it, it is sad to me. It holds memories of past that are good, but it also shows me times of sadness. It may need to be mended, for I can't just forget the times of sadness, but I can breathe new life into it so it is beautiful. The times make it what it is. sister and I have mended over the past few years, but the past few months have been overwhelmingly healing. The Project Master of our lives has sanded the rough edges, repaired some rotting boards, and given us beautiful shades of love. We have been mended.

What needs mending in your life? Perhaps the urge to update, sand, and beautify things around our home is an outward sign of an inward need.

Enjoy your weekend, and paint away!!


The Ranieri Family said...

Loved this... I remember so vividly working at that preschool during the summer with our moms and sisters:).

shasha said...

So many precious memories! I still love to drag out that old paint brush. Love you Mom