A Lesson in Lighting: Shalom In Our Stories

The apartment is still coming together, slowly but surely.

I worked on the balcony today, and to my joy, the air outside was a breezy 75 degrees, so I was comfortable as I worked.

There’s a great deal of peace, of shalom that comes with a home that’s put together, to a space that has room for every little thing–

Now, I don’t always do it well. There are definitely odd things in odd places, but organization is a constant process, like the way we try to find God in all spaces, every day.

There are stories to be written inside these walls.

There’s lemonade to make and there are veggies to chop.

There are babies to be snuggled with and a dog who needs a wrestle.

Today, there are candles lit. Little tea lights that give shine to shadowed corners and forgotten nooks.

There are boys munching on tortilla chips and I must quiet my heart again and give thanks for the sweetness here.

In the end, it doesn’t matter exactly how we decorate, what style blog we follow or Pinterest board we imitate.

But the objects we place around us call out the stories in us, and in the corners and at the couches, around the tables, we share.

When all is gone and we gather with only our hands and feet and worn souls, the lives we’ve created in these places live on.

So, create your space. Give yourself to that empty sunroom, that unkept and never-decorated area that’s been calling for attention.

Create and create again every day after, until your life becomes word and flesh, rhythm and prose.

Light your dark corners, fill a pot with flower and soil, and breathe in deep.

This. This is life, and this is our story.