Saturday night we snuck away to the symphony. And I wore rhinestones. I know. You can't handle how ritzy we are. Symphonies. Fireworks. Live music at dinner. It was high class stuff, y'all. Hoity toity is my middle name. Except that it's not. And that in lieu of appreciating the orchestra, I counted every last chair in the Performing Arts Center. Those are some fine chairs, folks. For real, if you are going to count chairs, those are some spectacular ones to gaze upon.
No, but truly. Don't offer me symphony tickets if you have an extra pair on hand. Because I'm about as trailer park as it gets when you put me in a room with fancy instruments. (But I'm a sucker for ballet, so I'll be your first call there.) My husband, however, was psyched to go. It was Brahm's 4th - a symphony that he listened to every night as a kid when his mom put him to bed. So while Annie got spoiled with her Nana, we got to spend the night on the town.
Dinner at Cafe Trio. Symphony at the Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts.
And yes, you know it. Fireworks. Huh? It's October. But nonetheless, as we left the Center fireworks burst in the sky. Granted, this picture makes them look like they were going off in Nebraska, but in person, they seemed rather large, and rather close. Promise.
Anyway, it was lovely to spend time with John. And even though my ear for music isn't much improved, I thoroughly enjoyed imagining John as a little baby falling asleep to Brahm's 4th. Thank you, Mary.
Sweet Annie hasn't been feeling well these past few days. So there's been lots of cuddling. Lots of napping. Lots of lullaby singing. And lots of stories. Oh, and of course, there's been lots of thumb sucking.
I think we often believe that the devil's greatest work is done through the suffering in our lives. It makes the most sense that Satan seems to be winning most dramatically when things are falling apart. Maybe I'm off base, but I think his most effective work can actually be in the sweetest moments in our life. Because it's in those sweet, baby-rocking, family gathering times when the weather is perfect, the food is good, and the music's always on, that I forget about Jesus.
Man, life tastes sweet. My baby is more beautiful this morning than she was when she went to sleep last night. I love my husband more completely than I knew how a year ago. My home feels cozy to me. My sweaters are warm in this sudden cold front. My dog doesn't bark as often these days. The tenderloin I made in the oven actually didn't dry out. It tasted perfect. Ah, and now I'm heading back to bed. The day is done. Wait, I didn't spend time with the Lord today. But, you see, I didn't need to. Because life was that sweet even without my surrendering to Him. Even without my praying to him.
That is Satan's great deceit.
I'm so weak in the easy months. I'm so selfish when I can be. I almost shy away from asking for things to be too good, because I know that I will forget about God when things go too well. It is because I am so weak and so selfish that I need the hiccups. I need the brokenness to remember that I'm broken. Lest I fool myself.
I want to get to a place where I seek the Lord even while the lovin' is good at home.
But lately, I've decided that days go by just fine without my living in the Spirit. I know the bottom will drop. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a month. If Satan had his way, it would never drop out. Because then I would keep believing the lie that I don't need Jesus.
I think what I need is accountability. Someone to shake me out of my self-centered life. Hear me - what I need is Jesus. But what I also need is accountability.
What I want is for Jesus to be my daily bread. My daily eggs over easy on toast. My daily lunch. My daily dinner. I want to feel the need for Him as much as I feel the need for food. I want my spirit to groan the way my stomach does.
I need discipline. I've never had enough of it in my life. I've always gotten away with way too much.
I need grace. Thank God that His mercies are new every morning.
I need God. And if you think you don't because your life looks so lovely, you are being fooled. Thankfully, while we were still sinners - not after we stopped - he died for us.
So here's to some future discipline in my life. Future as in starting now. Because like Annie Dillard says, "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives." I would like to spend mine yoked with Christ. But that doesn't happen a ways down in the lifetime that lay before me. It happens in the todays.
I've got to stop putting off God until tomorrow.
Last week, I catalogued the whole process of turning below-the-TV-drawers into an entry way chest. And maybe you wondered, what happened to its brothers? They were camping out in Annie's new (not old) bedroom waiting for some love. And a little love they did get.
To refresh your memory, we started out with this entertainment center in our living room (not pictured in its glory days):
We yanked it off the wall and separated the heck out of it until we were left with four pieces. One found it's new home in our entry. One in the basement storage (poor soul won't get finished til we someday move and have the space. Unless of course, it gets stolen first) and two now sandwich Annie's crib.
Just for fun, here are the two images floating in my head as I went about all this:
Obviously, the bookshelves all started out black, but as you recall, I got high and painted everything "Fame Orange." No, fo reals, I don't do drugs. But you would have thought that based on the color I chose. I thought/hoped crossed my fingers that it would look nicer in Annie's gray nursery than it did in the living room. But instead I felt like I was swimming in blueberry and peach yogurt. Again, these kinds of descriptors may lead you to believe that I was on mushrooms at the time, but I assure you that I wasn't. The only thing I'm high on is Jesus. BOOM.
Anyway, here is where we began once the bookshelves relocated to her bedroom:
We did to these ends what we did to the middle third - nail boards to finish the sides.
I slapped some primer and high gloss paint on it (same color as the walls - Restoration Hardware's Slate):
I decided that they are way too short for her room (they were built to live beneath a rather large soffit in our living room so the height ain't too high). I also decided that I didn't like the upper doors (or really the glass IN the doors) anymore. I decided that I'd like more shelves than three and that I wished the piece was deeper, wider AND taller. I decided that none of that was going to ever happen except that I could remove the doors. So I did. And then I threw Annie's books and baskets of diapers up there and let the kid run wild.
I am thoroughly unsatisfied. Changes will be made. Wheels will hopefully start turning in my head soon and I'll get inspired. Until that day though, this is where we stand and it's going to have to be good enough.
Oh yeah, here's his brother on the other end of the crib. Holla.
