Confessions of a Disclaimer

Tomorrow I am hosting a Spring Brunch at my home that I am really looking forward to.

I opened up the invitation to Facebook friends, offering 10 open 'kitchen seats' to join myself and an extra-special guest, Fan Smucker, the author of THIS blog. (I only am friends with those who I actually know/like on there, so I could do that comfortably).

In preparing for said event, a conclusion has been made that's been a long time coming:

I am a disclaimer.

No matter what the season, or the reason,

I throw out disclaimers like a clown with candy at a parade:

"The twins don't normally act like this, it's just getting close to nap time"

(to the checkout clerk at Target)

"I don't normally look THIS bad at 2pm! This morning was just rougher than usual"

(said to a friend who unexpectedly drops by)

"The meat was in a little longer than it should have been, that's why it might be dry"

(spoken as the rump roast is placed on the dinner table)

"There are SO many things I want to do this glorious old house, starting with painting it's siding and {fill in two-hundred blanks}, but it is hard with five little ones to get it all done..."

(said to almost any guest who comes to my home for the first time, especially the ones whose homes seem more 'put together' than mine.)

As I am preparing for the brunch, I am thinking of the many amazing women who will be here, several of whom I've either been to their homes or seen pictures of them on their blogs. Let me just tell you, in seeing their homes I lose all my manners and simply stare. The way they create beauty in their homes (usually on a dime!) is breathtaking. Inspiring. And it can leave me wanting when it comes to my own home (even if I was content with it before I saw theirs). This 'wanting' surfaces especially during the times I am preparing my home for special events.  Suddenly I notice how marked up the walls are. How dingy the back bathroom looks. How dull the few 'vingettes' are that I have dotted around the house. The weeds in my garden. My non-matching silverware collection. {You get my point}.

*Not a personal picture! But one similar to that which I covet admire!

***

May I just insert here that my three year old daughter's cough that I'm listening to as I type is about to send me over the edge? I have had a cold too.  But i do not cough like her. Or my husband. They both share the same type of cough. The one that sounds like it comes up from the tips of their toes and threatens to tear their body apart. Each and every cough sounds that way. And literally, she will NOT stop coughing. Vicks, water, oranges...I've done it all (still not comfortable with cough syrup). I know, I know...WHERE is the motherly sympathy? I'll tell you. It left on Tuesday. Seriously. Has the sound of coughing ever put any one in a little white coat? 'Cause if not...today might be a first! 

Ok. I'm done. Sorry for that. I normally don't lose compassion for my sick children, but it's my time of the month and --- Gee Whiz!

There I go again!

****

Disclaiming reflects on the disclaimer.

On what she wants, but doesn't have.

Or what she has, but doesn't want you to know.

"Disclaiming" has multiple spellings.

You might also know spelled  as 'P-r-i-d-e'.

As a public disclaimer (one who disclaims out loud), I serve up a personal source of discontentment and insecurity to whomever is lucky {ahem} enough to be the recipient of it. 

It is all quite silly, sinful and somewhat pretentious! As for my home, which I am so deeply thankful for God's provision for, I am missing the heart of hospitality when it become about the house itself. This home is not about me. Hospitality is not about decor. It is about loving those who come through the door. I am not super woman. I cannot do a million - or five- things projects at once and I need to be at peace with that, and let it be.

My imagination, abilities and time rarely, if ever, line up. And I need to accept it, seek my Father for opportunities to use what ARE my strengths and LOVE people through those.

(Wow, that was a jumbled piece of writing. My apologies. It is what you get for reading an online, amateur journal!)

Here is a little poem I read recently off another blog (Muthering Heights) that spoke to me as I was trying to mentally figure how how to give my entire house a makeover before having this brunch tomorrow. It could apply to anything we value over the real treasures of life:

Treasures

by Edgar Guest

Some folks I know, when friends drop in

To visit for a while and chin,

Just lead them round the rooms and halls

And show them pictures on their walls,

And point to rugs and tapestries

The works of men across the seas;

Their loving cups they show with pride,

To eyes that soon are stretching wide

With wonder at the treasures rare

That have been bought and gathered there.

But when folks come to call on me,

I’ve no such things for them to see.

No picture on my walls is great;

I have no ancient family plate;

No tapestry of rare design

Or costly woven rugs are mine;

I have no loving cup to show;

Or strange and valued curio;

But if my treasures they would see,

I bid them softly follow me.

And then I lead them up the stairs

Through trains of cars and Teddy bears,

And to a little room we creep

Where both my youngsters lie asleep,

Close locked in one another’s arms.

I let them gaze upon their charms,

I let them see the legs of brown

Curled up beneath a sleeping gown,

And whisper in my happiness:

“Behold the treasures I possess.”

****

This poem reflects on children as the treasure of the home, but I do not think they are the  point.  You may not have children. That does not leave you treasure-less.

The treasure of the home is what is not seen.

The treasure of a home is the

Love

Mercy

Grace

Compassion

Safe Refuge

and

Contentment

which are

the

invisible,

but felt

treasures

that are

the most

valuable.

If even one of those qualities are evident in your home, or-more importantly-in your countenance, what is there to disclaim?

Seems to me, not much!

And so I am going to go weed my garden while there is still a little 'nap light' left, and when I do not get them all pulled with pretty little pansy's in their place, I am going to choose to be grateful for what I got done. I am truly looking so forward to having several outstanding woman around my table tomorrow, and I know that all of them are kind, gracious women who, I suspect, probably have a few disclaimers they've thrown out from time to time. Even though I would find them as unnecessary as they would find mine!

We women can be so silly that way.




{Cough update!: I have never, in all my life, been so excited about two big wads of phlegm that have just been coughed up. I know, this admission completely qualifies as Too Much Information, but seriously...I praised her as if she had won herself a college scholarship. I praised Jesus. Who knew that phlegm would make me so happy!?!? On that gross note, I sign off, wishing you a contented and disclaimer-free day}