{i n h a b i t} a celebration home

We’re filling mouths with food and the space between us with words and I pause between bites and spill…a shy gush of pictures, dreams of a Christmas that is different – S L O W – and a tree, reborn, that tells the story. A purposeful pause to remember. And he listens and smiles that smile that tells me he knows me. With dinner done, we wrestle her into long pajamas, adventure through a book and whisper bedtime prayers. I tug the blanket to her chin – the one I dreamed beneath as a child – and step out of the darkness of her room into quiet. The clock announces the night is young. Where to begin? I mumble to him that I’m not entirely sure…but entirely determined. So the search begins and just as I’m losing steam, I find the sketches – a simple work in black and white. And my imagination flickers. These were meant for paper, but what if I…

sketches by Reformed Church Press }

The making is long and fragmented. A few stitches here and there scattered across the night hours in short snatches of time. It fills the in between space. I pick it up and put it down…pick it up and put it down…again and again, watching the clock and the calendar and willing my fingers to take flight. But mostly, I REMEMBER, which somehow surprises even me. I never expected to encounter Holiness in this hoop. Night after night, stitch by stitch, the sacred story comes alive in these tired, clumsy hands.

I work one stitch at a time, under a silver moon in the dim lamplight, the cadence of him reading by my side. The pause in his rhythm and the question – Which one tonight? – usually comes, and I offer up the soft stack, without words. None are needed. The story is his story too – our roots and our wings – where we came from and where we’re going. Redemption and promise in our hands, soon on our tree, and perhaps, eventually on these walls – a retelling of our story in color and cotton.

How are YOU…

capturing time

filling your table

making memories

weaving rituals

creating warmth

encouraging deep roots

nurturing creativity

being fully present

and learning to fully inhabit the space you call home?

There are several ways to participate.

(1) Comment and tell us what “inhabit” means to you this week.

(2) Leave a link to a relevant post on your blog. You may craft a special post or link to one in your archives. Kindly provide a link back here to make for an easy meandering through the posts.

(3) Link to a relevant Flickr image that shows what “inhabit” means to you.

If you need further clarification, this post explains a bit more.

If you’d like a graphic for your {i n h a b i t} post, you’re welcome to use the one below but it is certainly not required. Enjoy your weekend, my friends . . .
S L O W L Y.

 **POST UPDATE: Comments to this post are closed but we would love for you to add your comment / link when we gather again for {i n h a b i t} next Friday, November 26th.

21 responses to “{i n h a b i t} a celebration home

  1. Your embroidary is so pretty. I haven’t had much patience for it latelly or a chance to sit down. We have been spending a lot of time in our art studio and sewing studio. Most my efforts have gone into making it more comfortable lately.
    My other inspiration especially when I have some down timei nvolves a lot of crochetting.
    Have a good weekend.

  2. What beautiful writing and embroidery. Thank you for sharing how you’ve been filling you time and hands with love and deep meaning, very inspiring!

  3. What a beautiful way to tell a story. And your pictures are lovely as always.

    I had quite the lesson this morning on what inhabit means to me.


    Enjoy the weekend 🙂

  4. You write, photograph and embroider so beautifully. I am trying to inhabit our home by decluttering and making space for thought, rest, creativity. Today I talked about how we would inhabit our space and time during the cold months. I want to do it without television or too much computer time. I am hoping this way of being will encourage the children to be creative, have a good time and learn to think for themselves. Have a beautiful weekend. I love this series already.


    Peace, Angela

  5. Thank you for the peace this post brought to my heart. I am good with “sticks and string” but not so much with thread and linen. Your work is beautiful.

    My contribution can be found here:


  6. What exquisite work! And through it such a gift.
    Thank you for giving me such wonderful inspiration. I have really enjoyed reflecting on what inhabiting means to me today.
    Here’s my link…

  7. I love your embroidery, did you free hand them. I’ve wanting to make my own Jesse tree ornaments for ever!

  8. Oh, I’m totally out of it. LOL. I just admired the pictures before posting, now I’ve read the words. *Sigh…I am coming into this season with lots of renewal of mind, body and spirit. I feel I’ve nearly started from scratch with life, or just come alive or something. I’m overwhelmed by what I want and need to learn and to forgive myself for not paying attention more when my children where smaller.

  9. Pingback: redefining “a good day” | making life

  10. The first thing I intend to work on as part of inhabit is the being fully present part. I’m a stay at home mom, and blogging is often my way to escape, a way to have grown-up conversations when I can’t leave the house. However, that “quick peek” into Blogland often becomes an extended detour I never meant to take. I think I need to slow down the blogging, work on being fully present for my girls, and concentrate on having more good days: http://themakinglife.wordpress.com/2010/11/18/redefining-a-good-day/

  11. And so one moment leads to the next another . . .

    I love this concept, and one of my recent posts, written before discovering {inhabit}, is similarly inspired, if not nearly as poetic. I find great peace in the meditative nature of needlework, be that mindful embroidery or the repetitive stringing of corn, as we have done here:


    I will edit the above post to link back here, and reflect more on what inhabit means to me.

  12. “Inhabit”ing is what God tries to teach me about when I’m sick, and am forced to slow down. Struggling with bronchitis for three weeks, I am being made to see that I can’t do all the fall cleaning before December, just as I didn’t finish washing the windows last month. With each illness or headache, I see the need to go slower and *inhabit* my life – be more human – and then when I recover, I forget much of what I’ve learned. So I go back and forth. Just as, if you drop a marble down the side of a deep bowl, it will roll up the other side, and back and forth until it settles in the middle, hopefully in the right place; I hope I’ll eventually settle in the right space between having to get things done, and being human – i.e., not in a *hurry*. And taking Edith Schaeffer’s advice about making time to make things http://searchingforabalance.blogspot.com/2010/10/trying-out-all-ideas-that-come-to-you.html . Well, enough said – if it’s going to take all winter to deep clean the house, that’s better than nothing!

  13. I loved reading this. I can’t wait to see how your embroidery all comes together. My husband reads to me each night after our kiddos are tucked in bed, too. One small way I’ve been “inhabiting” during this week of wind and rain is snuggling and reading with my toddler every chance I get.

  14. Pingback: Corn Garland Tutorial — {:.}nesting season

  15. Good morning friend!
    Thank you for your kind words…and for stopping by my little blog {easie peasie}. I am honored! I am also in love with your blog! It is marvelous.

    I really adore this post. I have been feeling the need to {inhabit} my home on a deeper level too and this post spoke to my soul. I fully intend to find my unique way to do so in my home as well. I love this!

    So nice to meet you too! What a wonderful Sunday surprise!!♥

    Tiffany @ Easie Peasie

  16. i enjoyed browsing through everyone’s links! sorry to miss out on participating but i hope to do so as soon as family portrait season is over 🙂

  17. Right now, I think it means I should get up from the computer and wash the dishes. 😀
    OK. Going to do it.

  18. Pingback: {i n h a b i t} Turmoil and Peace : Wild Whispers

  19. Pingback: our Jesse tree (branch) | making life