Starving for Beauty

NO, this is not a post on anorexia--just a little epiphany I had today while wrapping presents. I got this mega-huge bag of old ribbon spools at Goodwill a few months ago, everything from red and white gingham to chartreuse polka dots, with a lot of good Christmas colors, but other crazy stuff too. And I had to wrap a big pile of presents so I used a good bit of the crazy stuff in there too. I got more and more elaborate with the wrapping, meditatively matching (and mis-matching) colors and patterns on top of the already-printed wrapping paper. I reminisced about past Christmases and thought about what made them special. All the time I thought, "I'm stupid for wasting time doing up these packages that are going to be shredded in no time flat."

But I wanted everyone who happens to be in our house to "feel special." I mean, when you're over 30 and you know that what's under the paper is no more exciting than socks and butter cookies, I thought that maybe we can squeeze just a bit more enjoyment out of the packages themselves. Maybe it will help the adults feel like kids again, just for a moment. Maybe it will help visitors feel especially loved and welcomed, just for a moment. Maybe it will stick in the kids' memories 20 years from now when they look around their college dorms and think, "Man, I wish I could be home for Christmas." Since we are moms, we can do that. We can take the time and make the cookies, use a little extra ribbon on the gifts, put a little extra flair into our decorating. Now I'm no Martha Stewart, mind you. I've got a downright scary toilet that needs cleaning, so I am neglecting things in order to wrap these presents, that I should perhaps be doing. But I couldn't tear myself away!

I got to my presents and started to feel sorry for myself because I had to wrap my own presents. How stupid, I thought. It's so much work, and it's not like I'm going to be surprised! I was tempted to skimp on ribbon and put less effort into my own packages. I mean, the baby is crying as it is! Then--WHAMMO--the realization hit me. We never think we are worth a little extra effort. A little extra attention. A little spot of sheer gratuitous beauty in our lives that sometimes seem as dull as...well, dishwater.

BUT...

God thinks we are worth it. God loves me! God loves me and wants to shower down presents on me. God thinks I'm worth a little pretty packaging, just because I'm me. Somewhere I had fallen into the trap of thinking that God loves what I do. But it's not true. A little tiny voice was trying to tell me, God loves you. He loves you as joyfully and abundantly and dearly and unconditionally as you love your kids, the little voice said. Even more. And when you exert yourself to add just a little bit of beauty to your life and the lives of others, you are doing His work. Those packages may go unremarked, but the likelihood is that the recipients will feel the love that you put into them, and they will treasure the love, not necessarily the wrapping paper or the socks. So I wrapped those packages and added plenty of frills.

That's what makes the home. It's the love that the mother can put into it, and any little touches of beauty that she can bring. That's what's missing in the culture "out there." There is pragmatism and commercialism and cold charity and cost. But not love. Yes, we have to scrape greasy dishes and clean up all the grimy stuff--life as real as it gets. But I think that we need beauty even more as an antidote. To remind ourselves that it's not just by changing diapers and fixing food that we show our love. This post goes into it a little bit better than I can think right now. But I am thinking, let's pursue an apostolate of beauty along with our wifehood.