Big Dreams in a Little Teacup

Mattie, Mom, and I just got back from a fun overnight trip to Jefferson with our girl cousins, Aunt Robin, and Grammie.

I've got the SAT tomorrow, so I've been spending the afternoon diligently avoiding all forms of study. No, I really was going to come home and stuff in some more algebra. It seems though, that just cramming in more numbers and frets is only going to make me worry. I guess the best preparation is to rest, relax, drink tea, and...maybe have some sewing therapy? Hmm. That will certainly keep my mind off of it, but I'm afraid it will also keep me up at night. Thinking about sewing causes me more sleep deprivation than anything else barring Starbucks (and more often!) I just get so involved and wound up.

It was a great time at the Bed and Breakfast. I sort of feel like all I do these days is party (but that's not entirely true!). It was a special treat from Grammie for conglomerated birthdays.

We pretty much took over the house. In the midst of a kafuffle over who was going to sleep where, Elizabeth and I ended up in the room we were both secretly coveting, even though we never said a word. The ceilings were about 14 feet tall, wallpapered in pale blue with white trim and simple white lace curtains on the tall windows. The gigantic bed was draped with a canopy of something suspiciously like mosquito netting (at least that's what I thought of first.) It was all rather breathtaking...the garden, the daffodils and jonquils in bloom. The whole house had a homey, restful atmosphere that made me want to patter around in sock feet, and gave me a queer ache inside.

I was so inspired. I pored over several Country Living Magazines in the "conservatory" (the dining room with lots of windows opening onto the garden where there was a good spot for drinking tea and having fresh cookies and visiting). I'd never looked at current issues of Country Living, so I was kind of dazzled with the artistic flair of home decorating. I fell in love with the fabrics. Scissors began to dance dangerously through my head, shredding up old clothes and visiting Goodwills to start a little artistic sewing myself. Of course, this comes a little late. My room has just been redone. But I was thinking tableclothes...clothe napkins (which I think are so homey) and bags...skirts...cushions.

All of us had a splendid "girl time" together, and after 9:30 Liz and I sat in the giant bed and looked at more decorating magazines. We hardly said a word to each other, but I think we had fun. At 11 we turned the lights out and hit the sack (a rather luxurious sack, I must add), but I coudn't go to sleep. I tossed and turned, listening to the old wooden floor creak and the train screaming by just down the street, and...thinking.

I feel like I have a disease. I can hardly enjoy the beautiful things I see because I'm so craving to create them myself. I want to snip and sew and paint and play the piano and sing and dance and do calligraphy and make delightful food and plant tulips and write and make cozy corners for teatimes. All at once. Without spending any money, preferably. I think I'm a little crazed, and I usually go 'round in circles with it, concluding that "what's the use, it's all going to burn up anyway." But this morning, when I had woken from an interlude of fitful sleep at a bright, early, and unexpected 6:15, I crept out to the white porch swing in the damp morning with my coat and pondered it a while. I thought about the verse in 1 Timothy 6 that says that God has "given us all things for our enjoyment." I don't want to waste my life getting tied up with the things of this world, or spend my life on work that has no eternal value, but the thought that was in my head was, maybe I am supposed to look for beauty right here, right now, and do what I can at this moment, in this day, to bring joy to other people, and to point us to God. Creating is certainly a godly quality trait! We can't make anything apart from Him. It's all a gift from Him. I can't go out today and take art lessons or decorate a house, but I can send a pretty card to a friend, draw a doodle in my journal, and drink tea out of an enchanting teacup!

Today I did stifle my inner penny pincher and make way for delight: I bought a beautiful teacup. It's a pale irridescent wintery blue with silvery-gold and white designs- very delicate and beautiful and breakable, and entirely unpackable. Since I plan on making it the first of a lifelong collection, however, I will have to just pack it on faith and tote it around the world as I go :)

See, one of my dreams is to have a home where people come and stay, whether for short or long, a place where teacups are in definite cirrculation. No dust. Dusty collections are my dread. There will be lots of gathering together, lots of meals together, lots of prayer and rest and good things. I'd love to make a tranquil, delightful haven for seeking, weary people, a little like Francis Schaeffer's "L'bri." I want people to seek God and know Him. I want them to know others, without being rushed and pressured. I want there to be beautiful things in the house that point people to God and help create a restful atmosphere. Pictures of bare trees in the snow. Light, fresh curtains. Fresh cut flowers. Tea in teacups. Long talks in cozy corners. Tulips and daffodils and shade trees outside. Paintings inside. Rich, soothing colors. Lamplight, candles, firelight. Warm soup in big bowls. Scripture stenciled in gold around door frames. I don't know. It's just a fantasy. I know that I can't create a utopia, and I should know well from observation that external things don't make a peaceful place. But it's just a dream, after all. I like it. And you have to start small. That's why I bought the teacup.