{#RealLife | No. 2}

We made it. The rush of the season is starting to calm and perhaps there’s a little rest to be had. I’m worn out. Plum tuckered. Exhausted. You too? 

Yesterday, I was up early with good intentions. I planned to cook some tilapia for lunch; so, I wanted to prep it before leaving for church. I prepped it, put it in the slow-cooker, and left. Without turning it on. Yep, you read that right. To say my house smelled of stinky fish, well, it was awful. Just awful. We had to throw it out given that it sat out at room temperature for no less than seven hours.  It’s probably all for the best because here’s a snap shot of the kitchen just before I left that morning.

Ah, my kitchen. It’s the hub of activity in the house. Everyone passes through the kitchen every time they come and go which means sometimes it’s a catch-all. Like this week. Every flat surface, covered. Dishes in the sink. Oh, and you can’t see it in the picture, but there’s a broken light bulb in the fixture above the table. (That, by the way, is still driving me crazy!) Even if I had properly cooked the fish, we couldn’t have very easily sat down at the table for a meal. Thankfully, we were treated to lunch out by my dad. For dinner, though, we had rice and Big Red floats. In the family room. Then we played board games on the floor. It was a good night. My kitchen is still a bit of a mess; although, the mess has been contained to one end of the table and one corner of the island. The mess represents something more than the chaos of the season. It’s a picture of the generosity shown us by our family and friends. People gave us stuff because they love us. We are loved. And blessed. Even when we didn’t have the means to give a lot in return. But, that’s not the point, is it? We don’t give generously in hopes of receiving things in return. We give generously just because we can. Generosity looks different for some folks than for others. It’s not always an expensive gift, that’s for sure. Generosity is a matter of the heart. A grateful heart loves lavishly and gives generously. Always.

That reminder was worth this mess.

{#RealLife | A New Blog Series}

Confession: I love social media. All of it. I do. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook. And, oh the joy that is Pinterest. Social media can be good. It makes me smile, it makes me laugh, it reconnects me with people I'd otherwise be lost to. But sometimes, it's not so good. Some days if I see another picture of a perfectly baked dessert, a perfectly place Elf on the Shelf, a perfectly executed DIY project, or a mountain of beautifully wrapped presents, I want to retreat into the farthest corner of my closet, underneath all the dresses I never wear but refuse to get rid of (mostly because they don't fit, but maybe they will someday) and HIDE. It's too much. So it goes when you play the game. {Disclaimer: I post those kinds of things, enjoy seeing them most days, and will continue to do so. This isn't about that.} 

See there's something in me that drives me to compare + compete -- some days it's far worse than others. It's not that I want to make a wreath as expertly as the girl who lives half way across the country, it's just that I want to know that I'm doing okay. You know?  I want to know that if I want to make a burlap wreath with monogram, I can. The truth is some days I can barely get dinner on the table and you can forget about laundry. And where in the world is my vacuum? Oh yeah, plugged in upstairs where I left it three days ago when I meant to vacuum the hallway. On those days I find myself wondering how I ended up such a slacker.   But the truth is I'm not a slacker. Actually, most days I'm on it. Really. And when I compare my highlight reel (that's what social media has kind of become) to my #RealLife, it's quite nice actually. I have plenty of picture-perfect moments to share. But I also have LOTS of the other kind of moments. You know, the unedited, unposed, unfiltered messy moments, moments I wouldn't typically snap a picture of and post to my social media accounts. Because, who cares about laundry that's piled to the sky or dishes that are piled across the entire countertop? Who cares that sometimes my socks don't match or I forget to change out of my slippers before I leave the house? Who cares that I didn't have the will to argue with the three year old about her mismatched clothes? Maybe no one. But, maybe there is one who needs to know it's ok. You're doing ok. 

So, I'm taking to social media every Monday for the next several weeks with a #RealLife post. A new friend of mine was doing something similar earlier this month and it was SO refreshing. Here's the thing: I don't want to be the girl that everyone assumes has it all together because I don't. That's not real for anyone. See, I've figured something out. Even when I'm a mess and everything in the house is a mess or the car is a mess, or money is running low, my life is still quite good. Yes, it's good. I am not necessarily proud of the messes but I've figured out how to appreciate them because of what they've come to represent -- my life is FULL of people and things that I have been given to love and enjoy. 

Would you like to join me? Let's take to Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook with the hashtag #RealLife and encourage each other with proof that we aren't alone in our mess.  Make sure you tag me. ( Valerie Gibson Jones on Facebook | @vdjones on Twitter | @valeriejones on Instagram) 

So, here we go. #RealLife No. 1

#RealLife No. 1 {Mount Laundry} valerie-jones.com 

I think these clothes are clean, but I can't be sure. Oh, and when it was time for sleep these piles moved to the floor. Three days. That's how many days we shuffled these piles around the bedroom until it finally got cleaned up. Instead of putting away the laundry, we made fun desserts as an advent activity. I have pictures of that, too. But this, this is what it looked like in the room right above us. And can I tell you something? It didn't matter to any of us one tiny bit. We laughed and giggled and ate ridiculous amounts of candy sprinkles for Advent Day #14 choosing to ignore the mess for a little while and enjoy each other. 

See. It's ok. Your turn.  

{Five Minute Friday | Free Write}

It's Five Minute Friday. That means unplanned, unedited, straight-from-the-heart-to-the-paper writing. Yep, you just write whatever comes out based on a word you're given. If you have five minutes, you should give it a try!  Find out how here. 

Today is a Free Write. We get to choose our own prompt, but the same rules apply.

Ready? Go. 

Space. S P A C E. There, that's better. 

I'm learning to create space in my life. Somewhere along the way, I learned that things lose their meaning and I lose my effectiveness when my life is overcrowded. The important things and people are overlooked while the unimportant things scream for our attention and time. Those unimportant things win far too often. Any one else? 

Creating space means figuring out when to say 'yes' or no' and who to say 'yes' or 'no' to. It means being willing to walk away from some thing or someone or some place when it's time. It's about boundaries, both establishing them and respecting them. Not everything or everyone gets to claim space in my heart and mind. Read that again, because it's a game changer. I am so grateful that this is true. 

Here are a few reasons I am reclaiming S P A C E in my life. 

1. Space creates room to breathe. You know, time to stop and re-set. Breathe in. Breathe out. Pause. Having that room to breathe goes a long way toward my sanity. Which, by the way, most days is questionable!

2. Space creates room for give-and-take. I'm learning to see what's right in front of me and I am learning to find the value in those unplanned, unexpected moments. I'm not saying I throw my calendar or schedule out the window. But, there are days when I recognize that I need to adjust. So, I do. And, it's ok. Nothing is ruined, wasted, or otherwise lost. Sometimes in the space of unplanned, unexpected moments are the most beautiful God-moments. And sometimes, in the space of unplanned, unexpected moments we make the BEST memories. I'll take that.  

3. Space creates room for creativity. When my life is overcrowded, it's safe to say my heart and mind are also overcrowded. When that happens, God-given creativity lies dormant and buried. That's never what I want. I need that creativity for those days when parenting requires a creative solution or when a shoestring budget threatens to ruin Christmas. 

4. Space creates room for rest. Exhaustion is not meant to be a constant state of existence. We aren't wired to sustain break-neck speed as we scurry through our days, head down. But that's what we do. Busy has become a badge of honor that we proudly wear. It makes us feel important. It makes us feel needed. But, when we live life exhausted nothing we touch gets our very best. Everything suffers even if just the tiniest bit. Sometimes, we leave a trail of a hot mess behind us. Here's the thing. My ability to rest is tied to my ability to trust that God really IS in control. So go on, take a rest. 

My life is far from perfect. My house is a mess. My kids are a mess. We have $1.43 in our checking account. We don't always get it right. But, making space for the things I'm talking about means that when life shines that blasted spot light on all my imperfections, it's ok. You know why? Because there's space for that too. 

STOP. 

{Southern Gal Hostess of the Year? Not so much.}

A few weeks ago, it was my Dad’s birthday. (Happy Birthday, Dad!) We decided to have an impromptu gathering to celebrate — at our house. I, being the southern belle that I am, had suggested a nice dinner out. After all, the house was a mess, the fridge was empty, and I was tired. Very tired. But, no. Dinner out wasn’t going to do. There had to be a celebration. For my dad. With other people. And I would host.

So, we came home from Sunday lunch and had a few hours to prep for the party. Any southern gal worth her weight in butter can prep for a party on short notice, right? Um, no. I came home and took a nap. Yes. Fell asleep. In my favorite spot. With my favorite pillow. Don’t judge me!

After my Sunday afternoon nap, the house was still a mess, the fridge still empty, and people were still coming over in an hour. On the way to grocery store, I whined and complained at my lack of preparation. I moaned that I know better than this. Why couldn’t we just take everyone out for pizza? My awesome, superstar, worth-his-weight-in-gold hubby assured me it would be fine. He has a beautiful gift of calm. We scurried through the store like a couple of crazy people. We still had 30 minutes to spare. Then, we realized we forgot the cake. Did I mention we were halfway home at that point? Yikes.

When we pulled in the driveway, we were late. (Now, you can judge me.) Our guests were already there. And so, I did what any other respectable southern gal hostess type would do. I put them to work. What. In. The. World. It’s shameful, I know. Pizza really would have been better. I promise the next gathering at my house will be better. I do have it in me.

Here’s the thing: While I may not have scored high marks this time on the “Southern Gal Hostess of the Year” chart, I still had an opportunity that evening to practice hospitality.  It didn’t necessarily look the way I wanted it to look — ok, who am I kidding, It looked nothing like I wanted it to — but, even still, I was being hospitable. See, I’m learning that hospitality is about a heart that says “You are important to me.”  I opened my door wide and invited these folks into my mess because they are important. I opened my door wide and made a place here where it was perfectly acceptable to be a hot mess! Because, hello, did you notice? Hot. Mess. Right here.

Opportunities for hospitality will sometimes interrupt our daily routines with no regard for our empty fridge or our mess. But, it’s ok. It really is. I’m learning that there’s more to it than a perfectly executed five-course dinner or beautifully executed party. It’s about leaning in with a tender heart towards the people that God has put in my path. I can be hospitable when I greet the clerk at the grocery store. I can be hospitable when I greet my neighbor with a smile. I can welcome people into our home despite the mess. Why? Because people are important. Hospitality says I see you and you matter. That, my friends, is the kind of southern gal I want to be. One who is worth her weight in butter because hospitality isn’t just something she does, it's who she is. Kind. Gracious. Warm. Tenderhearted. One who loves others well. That's what we're meant to do, isn't it? Love people. Hospitality starts there. 

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categories / Random Musings, Family, Everyday Life
tags / birthdays, celebrations, devotional, encouragement, family, hospitality, random musings