Things I Love

Ever since I was a toddler, I have loved tiny containers—

little plastic suitcases, wood boxes, and secret hideaway places like built-in closets and drawers. 

I loved the little plastic farm and zoo animals at Ben Franklin’s and McCrory’s.

I have always loved shells and even used to have dreams where I walked the beach and found hundreds of unique shells, which I collected in breathless ecstasy.

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I loved collecting pictures of nature from old calendars

and sometimes wrote little poems about them and also improvised tunes to them,

singing in soft soul worship until tears sprang to my eyes,

as I tried to imagine God and touch Him with my imagination. 

I yearned after God from my earliest days and wanted to live my whole life

in flawless obedience to Him, not missing one iota of His will. 

I knew that His will, whatever it turned out to be, would be beautiful in the end,

even if it caused pain. 

I sensed even from my earliest days the glorious purposes of God in my life

amid His magnificent plan for His world. 

~

I have always loved poetry and found it natural to write poetry,

although making the poems good did not come naturally. 

I had to work at it, and then I had to learn not to work at it.

I have always loved singing from the time I could talk. 

I loved making up my own songs

and would hear hymns playing in my head all day long

when I was in grade school. 

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I have always loved pictures of little children,

especially the ones in my Bible story books and Sunday school pictures

or in the books of songs about God that my mother taught us. 

The children always had round rosy cheeks and looked so pure and happy.

I have always loved birds—their songs, their colors, their flighty ways, their joy. 

They seemed to be talking right to me, comforting me with their jubilant tunes.   

I have always loved books—especially inspirational books,

Bible study books, and home decorating books. 

I especially love Grace Livingston Hill books,

even though I know they are flawed and sometimes sappy. 

I love them because, like life,

they come with the good and the bad, the beautiful and the flawed,

and they always end with righteousness winning, which is right! 

There is always a prince somewhere, too.  

My own daddy was a prince.

~

I have always loved making things—

scrapbooks, cards, bookmarks, things like that,

but I never learned the techniques of most crafts.

I love all things Dutch—

the yellows, reds, and Delft blues, the blue and white plates and tiles,

the tulips and windmills, the little children with pointy bonnets,

crisp aprons, and laughable pantaloons. 

I love, love, love the wooden shoes in all sizes. 

I love the cottages, the lakes, the little village scenes. 

Somehow, they make poverty beautiful and noble. 

Cleanliness and happiness seem to reign

with artless simplicity and childlike innocence. 

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I love baskets, especially rough,

simple ones like those found in country cottages. 

I love colored glass and blown glass. 

I had a pink glass fawn when I was little,

but I don’t know whatever happened to it. 

I love emerald green glass,

persimmon Viking glass, bittersweet orange slag slung glass,

cobalt blue glass, and cranberry glass. 

I love cameos and vintage jewelry. 

I love lanterns, especially those that look barnyard or European. 

They whisper of twilight and intriguing streets of Dickens’ England. 

They promise light in dark places and direction amid mystery. 

I love movie mysteries.  I love Great American Family, even their commercials! 

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I love wood—especially dark wood like walnut and reddish woods such as mahogany,

but I am developing a deepening love for oak,

especially rough, simple, worn oak that is almost ugly with age. 

I love blue pottery and have some pieces that are quite valuable

that were handmade in North Carolina. 

There is a certain shade of Carolina or cornflower blue that I absolutely love,

but it doesn’t go with much but itself. 

It takes over a room. 

I love stained glass that just waits for the sunshine to crown its colors with glory. 

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I love vintage pictures of Christ—

Christ praying, Christ knocking at the door,

Christ the Shepherd, and Warner Sallman’s Head of Christ in both poses.  

I love decorating with coral, cinnamon, spice, rust, and dark reds;

I love orange and yellow and yellow-orange and bright green,

especially spring green and apple green.   

I love pretty dishes, especially bone China with flowers. 

I always dream of a chance to use them.

Somehow it comforts me just to have them,

like my dreams that haven’t broken through the years.

I love little cozy lamps around the house at dusk. 

I love soft quilts and handmade Afghans and doilies from my mother.

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I love, love, love vintage pictures of little girls in gardens with birds,

like Annie Benson Muller’s prints,

one of which my mother had since her girlhood—Poppy Love.

I love teaching. 

I love being bombarded by young people

and helping as many as possible until the day is done. 

I love people. 

I love meeting new people and thinking about people I have never met

and imagining what their lives must be like.

I love gardening—although I don’t have one. 

I love yard work and planting flowers

and trimming shrubs and planting happy growing things. 

I love working with the earth. 

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I love redoing old houses—not exactly by myself,

but planning the updates and renovations. 

I loved my little yellow Cape Cod cottage in Emerywood,

but it wasn’t really me. 

Where I live now is really me.

The sun pours into my home in the morning, and I just love it. 

The kitchen is the softest spring green,

and it’s the perfect backdrop for the greens and vintage yellows that I love. 

This house has no pretense, just unsung quality and great bones. 

It’s a masterpiece. 

~

I look out over a huge backyard with a massive oak tree

that must have been planted before the Civil War. 

A creek runs right past my neighbor’s house,

and a Second Empire mansion is a holler away.  

This setting is the real deal,

just a tiny town of about 8,000 people. 

The teller at the bank smacks her gum;

the lady at City Hall talks to me like I’m her neighbor

or like we go to church together. 

~

I love making things beautiful,

and someday I hope to finish living a beautiful life

where I made someone happy and brought many souls to Christ.

Most of all, I love my family,

my sister and brother-in-law and my nieces and my nephew. 

I loved—I adored—my parents,

and I shall never see the likes of them on earth again. 

But no one compares to Christ, my coming Prince,

Whom even the very heavens cannot contain.

Thank you for listening. 

These are the things I love.