Resting with Purpose

Let every safe harbor be a a place to rest up, not rest on your laurels, before you set off again for unknown jeopardy and joy.

--Nikki Hardin

I'm home, sitting on the worn-in cushion of my favorite loveseat in my favorite spot in the house. Outside the front window, fall is stealing the leaves from trees' branches, making way for a vista of scraggly lines and outlines.

God, I've missed home. I don't think I realized how much I missed it until I drove up, saw my friends and roommates descend the front steps. I don't think I knew how heartsick I was until I joined together with my family of believers and let praise pour forth from my lips. It didn't quite hit me until I was curled up beside my roommate in her soft-as-butter bed talking into the night.

I'm home where being myself comes easy.

Don't get me wrong. I loved Penland. There was purpose for my time away. There were, there ARE things that I learned, things I am learning. These lessons may take months, years to seep into my consciousness. It was so good that I went. It was both restful and labor-intensive. It was a strange hybrid of retreat and get-ready.

I read the above words from Nikki Hardin (publisher of that old skirt! I used to wear) when I was still in North Carolina. I scribbled them down, hoping that in reading and re-reading, I would not fall into the temptation of resting on my laurels, rather than resting up for what is ahead for me.

Life back here in Birmingham beckons for me to fill it up to the overflowing. I have dreams to chase, now with more of the skills I'll need for the trek. I thank God for what the last two months put in my arsenal.

(If you'd care to, check out an almost-complete album of what I created while at Penland here. I'll be making the switch to etsy asap.)

A million thanks to the people who have encouraged me to follow this less-than-logical artistic path. Your votes of confidence in me have given me the courage to put flesh on the bones of my dreams. Thank you.