Creating Home { pt 1 } To Nest.

Have you ever watched a bird create a nest? Its beady eyes jutting back and forth searching for the perfect twig, blade of grass, soft tuft. Eclectic ingredients intentionally selected and woven together with one thing in mind: to provide a warm, comfortable space for the family.  

I love to nest. 

The fun thing about nesting is that everybody's nest looks different. There is no secret ingredient. There is no perfect method. In fact, the more unique and imperfect it is the more beautiful it is. 

For the Watsons, nesting has taken a unique form. Our home is a small apartment inside of a borrowed space- a women's residence hall. Creativity wears a different hat when your options are limited. In my opinion, this is when creativity really shines. Here are a few ways to describe my nesting these days: 

Rearranging way too many times in 1 week. Sometimes I disassemble the living room. Add a new side table. Sometimes I just move cute little accents around. Change, that scary thing I usually avoid, is what makes nesting fun for me. My husband is used to coming home to something new and he thinks its silly but humors me. I think he realizes that a small inconvenience (like not being sure where to put his keys and wallet) is the unfolding of my creativity. So he just laughs and lets the nesting happen. Nesting is fun when you keep things fresh. 

Thrifty nifty. Our home represents the life we're choosing right now. Since we are committed to getting our school debt paid off, we are on a tight budget (which means I cannot just browse Target home decor anymore...) Our home is a hodgepodge of thrift store antiques or just pretty little things that catch my eye. You'd be surprised what you can find when others get rid of what they're bored of. I look for things that tell a story. It seems to make me feel connected to the homes of others. It doesn't have to be NEW to be nesting. 

Paint covers a multitude of sins. People. Have you heard of the miracle that is Annie Sloan chalk paint?! I love this stuff. It covers virtually ever surface with out having to pre-sand or strip before painting! And the colors are lovely. (You'll hear more about this paint in future posts). The biggest project my crafty mom and I took on was covering a 70's walnut hutch ($60, Salvation Army thrift store) with duck egg blue chalk paint. My hubby added chicken wire to display our fancy wedding dishes that we never use. I am IN LOVE with this piece. The cool thing is- you can do it too. Check out Big White Goose Store.

I think I love nesting because it's a  kind of creative expression I feel capable of contributing. There are times when I don't feel good at it. That mostly happens when I spend too much time on Pinterest trying to recreate a look or too much time browsing others' creations on Instagram. I think successful nesting, the beautiful kind, is measured by the uniqueness of those who dwell within its walls. When the style, the overall ambience and the accents tell the beautiful story of your family. Does it fit you? Is it nice to come home to? Do you want to invite others in? Then it's beautiful. That's nesting at its finest, folks. 

Comparison: when you're tempted to feel small.

I watched her hair bob as she excitedly shared her plans. The exuberant, confident 30 something spoke of her dreams and I put on my best listening face. Her husband was her biggest fan. She talked about her research, her ambitions, her story. I too started to believe that she was capable of attaining her most grandiose desires and nodded excitedly with her. Until...

That ugly feeling entered the scene. 

That unintentional sinking feeling when you realize that someone else shares your dream. And they may be better at it than you. 

My enthusiasm dampened, withdrawing to coddle my very puny looking idea in the shadow of her grand ambition. The ambition which I too had dreamed, aspired, hoped, prayed for. My usually encouraging self pulled back, unable to speak empowering words. Insignificance held my tongue. 

I reflected on the drive home. 

Why do I get all small when I hear of a pursuit that looks like mine? 

This plagued me most of the way down I5 South. 

So I started to nitpick my little baby steps that I'd already taken. I questioned my usefulness, even the validity of my big dream. Maybe it's just too big for small me. 

Ever felt this way? 

What is that feeling called, exactly? 
Comparison. 

That sticky, poky, nosey little creature that slithers in to evoke insecurity. Its shifting eyes look back and forth between you and others, pointing out dutifully every little way that others are just better. Skinnier. Smarter. Funnier. Just better than little you. And you shrink down, down, down and up go walls to protect the insignificant you. The small you. 

I am convinced that nothing threatens to shake my identity and calling more than comparison. The weird thing about it is that comparison shows me the bravest, most beautiful, seemingly flawless snapshots of others. Not the times they mess up, have a bad hair day, cry really hard or get impatient. How in the world can everything I know about myself EVER match the flawless snapshots I see? 

I'm thinking that this enthusiastic 30 something probably questioned her dream too. Maybe it even happened yesterday. Maybe there is someone she feels small next to. 

When I consider all of this and, setting comparison aside, let the Lord inform my perceptions, the dream He's given me reappears. I dust it back off and take a look. Its bright colors fill my imagination, giving me hope. If I keep my eyes off of others and lock my gaze on the Giver of all good gifts, I remember my divine usefulness. I won't do it like she does. To do so would mean forfeiting my uniqueness. 

I think I'd rather pursue my big dream in a way that only I can. And that's more than enough.

A prayer for when I lack. { John 15 }

Oh Lord, my Provider
today I lack. 

So I recall your promise to me. 

You are trustworthy. You have always kept your promise. 

Remain in Me. Abide in my love. 

 Remain, stay, continue, live, set up camp under the protection of your love.

Do this and fruit will abound. 

Apart from me you can do nothing. 

My efforts 

My striving
My best intentions devoid of you are flat and useless. 


I have told you this so that you can 
have JOY- real and complete. 
Where is the joy when I strive and struggle? 
Take me back to that spacious place
That vast expanse under the covering of your love. 


Remain in Me. Abide in my love. 
Help me to put down roots, 
set up my makeshift tent, this temporary dwelling under your wings.
Teach me to be still and soak in the melody of your truth
that in that vast expanse I may discover my belovedness 
And yield fruit that they will know I am yours. 

{ John 15 }