It's all relative

This past Monday morning, my husband and I flew to Florida. Just the two of us. My husband has quite a few clients who spend the winter months in Florida, and I was privileged to accompany him on a trip. We felt like such grown-ups, jetting off to Florida on a cold morning in January.

It was 18 degrees when we left home on Monday morning. Now that's cold in North Carolina. Unfortunately, Florida has been experiencing some record-breaking cold, so we weren't exactly tempted to break out the swimsuits. You've never seen so many mink coats on the streets of Palm Beach. But one of the lessons of this vacation for me is that the old cliche' is true: everything is relative. The weather in Florida was mostly in the 60's while we were there, and the Floridians were complaining like crazy. But, boy, did it feel good to us!

We stayed in a lovely little hotel built around a beautiful courtyard:

And one day we walked over to The Breakers, the famous Palm Beach landmark hotel, and ate at their beach club. Here's the view from our table:

One day we were window-shopping on Worth Avenue and saw this car parked on the street:

This antique Mercedes was exceptional even for Palm Beach, but there were new Mercedes on every street corner. We saw a number of Rolls-Royces. We lost count of the number of Bentleys we saw. And we got a kick out of the fact that the Publix had valet parking.

Funny how a few days in luxury setting like Palm Beach can make things seem awfully plain and un-luxurious at home. I mean, I have to turn down the covers for myself at night. No one snaps to attention and holds the door for me when I approach the front of my house. I have to park my own car at the grocery store, for crying out loud.

But oh, how the news accounts of the earthquake in Haiti jerked my perspective right back into line. Now I'm wondering: why is it so easy for me to compare my lot to that of the ultra-wealthy and to concentrate on what I don't have? How dare I forget just how blessed I am?

I pray for the suffering people of Haiti and all over the world. And I pray that God forgive my lack of gratitude for all I have and enlarge my heart to greater generosity toward those in need.

Ain't no mountain high enough

". . . Ain't no valley low enough. . . ain't no river wide enough. . . ."

I think I am a mountain climber at heart. I come alive in a tight spot. If you have an emergency, I'm your girl. Special challenge? No problem. If there's a deadline, I'll make it. Urgency brings out the best in me.

That personality trait has served me well the past couple of years, for there have been many mountains to climb around here. I've been through some trying circumstances, and I've made it. Not always valiantly, mind you--sometimes on hands and knees--but I've made it. I've learned first-hand that "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13).

Right now, though, there appear to be no mountains to climb. For the moment, everyone's healthy. My husband's new company is doing pretty well. The church we helped to start is going great. We're chugging right along!

But I feel as though I'm lagging behind. All I have to do right now is normal life. I'm not in the midst of a crisis. I'm not renovating a house. I'm not moving to a new home. I don't have a new baby. I didn't start a new job. In short, I have no excuses. And I'm wondering if maybe that's my problem.

I'll make a confession here. I think perhaps I got used to feeling victorious. I liked that feeling that I was climbing mountains, fording rivers, overcoming obstacles. Why? Because I want to be admired. I want people to be shocked and awed by my skill, my cunning, my derring-do. On top of that, I've had lots of excuses when I haven't gotten around to things I should have done. Folks have had to cut me a lot of slack over the past couple of years, and I think I kind of liked it.

Oh dear.

I think perhaps it's time for me to retire my Supergirl cape. Time for me to realize that, at least for now, everything is okay. No abnormalities, no emergencies, no special struggles--just everyday life.

Just everyday life, after all, is quite enough to keep me busy. And challenged. And fulfilled.

And on my knees. Because, apart from Him, I can do nothing (John 15:5). Not even on level ground.

Top Projects

Rhoda at Southern Hospitality is hosting a "Top Projects of 2009" Party today. As I look back over my projects from last year, here are a few of my favorites.

One of the first "before-and-after" blog posts I ever wrote involved an old wooden tray

that I transformed into this serving tray/vacation memento:

This summer I found a bedraggled ottoman at the thrift store

and turned it into a storage bench for my closet:

And in one of my thriftiest projects ever, I turned an Omaha Steaks styrofoam cooler

into an ottoman for my front porch:

One of my favorite large projects of the year was a makeover of my laundry room. It went from this:


To this:

I must say, though, that the project of 2009 that stands out most in my mind is the one that involved getting my husband from here to here. In case you're not schooled in reading ECG's, the first shows an example of an electrocardiogram strip from a person in atrial fibrillation. The second shows an ECG of someone with a normal heart rhythm--which is what my husband has now. Actually, we were most grateful for the a-fib. For my husband, the irregular heartbeat prompted a special visit to the cardiologist, and extensive testing revealed that he needed open-heart surgery. So now he has a brand-new stainless steel heart valve--and at his last check-up, the cardiologist said that his ECG looked like that of an 18-year-old. That was quite a project!

Now it's time for me to get busy on some new projects for 2010. Thanks, Rhoda, for the chance to look back fondly on what we accomplished in 2009!