Today my husband gifted me three beautiful pieces of Ikea furniture via Craigslist and a local moms group on Facebook. They are going to be the foundation for my scrapbook room – the room I’ve been planning and dreaming about since we began planning and dreaming about building our home last summer. This room has been filled to the brim with unpacked boxes and clutter galore for eight months now. And the end of this domestic chaos is on the horizon – I can see it now.
Why am I so giddy over some laminate particle-board and boxes of crafting materials? Well, you see, creating is a part of what makes me, me. Whether it’s a scrapbook layout that took three painstaking hours, a tie blanket for a beloved niece, a big casserole to feed family or a love letter to my husband, I need to create to feel whole. God created me to pour myself into these passions so that I might show His love to others. While I love the tedious work of pouring over my photographs and picking the perfect papers, embellishments and placement, it’s about far more than my hobby. Every photo album, every written word, is a gift.
I remember the hours of entertainment I received from flipping through baby and wedding albums as a child. Oh how I wish more of the every day was captured in these chronicles of my past. I want to see how we spend a lazy summer day, the look on my face when I first learned to ride my bike sans training wheels, the jumbled mess on the sofa when my brother and I snuggled up next to our mom after dinner each night. I want to pass down these kinds of memories to Stephen. I want him to share them with his children one day. This is our family. These are our stories. This was our favorite hike on a cool fall morning. These were the ornaments we made for our cousins last Christmas. This was grandma’s curry or grandpa’s spaghetti. I believe that we all long for a connection not only to our past, but to our future. We want the best of ourselves to be passed along, and the rest to be washed away by God’s grace.
So tomorrow as I continue cleaning out our upstairs junk-drawer of a room, I will be saying a silent prayer that the creations to come will be a blessing to our family, both today and down the road. Because if we don’t preserve those memories, share those stories, feed those hungry tummies, who will?