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I’m at a blogging conference called Blissdom in Nashville, TN this week. This morning I ventured into the Wisdom Workships Writing track, to see if I could get a little guidance and practice at improving my writing. Below is a “prompted” piece that I wrote during one of the sessions. We were asked to visualize something in our home that brings great memories and/or sentiments to mind.


My Grandmother’s Chair

My home is filled with pieces of my family’s history. My bed is a 150 year old four poster “princess” bed that I used to clamber in and out of as a child at my favorite aunt’s house. My dining room set is 60 years old–for three generations we’ve celebrated every holiday, birthday and important event around this table. I have the civil-war sugar chest from my great-grandmother that hid their valuables from invading soldiers; my great-grandfather’s 1909 pulpit bible that he used to preach from; my great-grandmother’s turn-of-the-century dressing table; and the clock that I’d help my grandfather wind every Saturday night before we headed for bed. My son even has a 1952 world map hanging in his room from my grandfather’s classroom. The whole house is filled with memories and stories! I love being able to walk from room to room and having my loved ones so near, even though they’ve passed away long ago.

Yet nothing is quite as special as my grandmother’s chaise. As I child I remember my Granny–a strong southern lady, elegant and refined, yet also full of sass and fire. I remember when she bought the chaise. I was about eight years old. I would curl up in it to read and felt as if it was the most luxurious, elegant thing I’d ever see. Today it sits in my bedroom, in a corner with a window that overlooks a Japanese red maple. I’ll often sit and read my bible, musing on the words as they dance through my head, watching the birds dance through the tree. It often feels like I’m in my very own grown-up treehouse. And as I sit and watch the leaves flutter, dreams begin to float across my heart. God begins to speak to me in the deep, quiet places of my heart. I dream.

Here in this chair is where I first dared to dream of sharing my love of savings through tv and radio–long before it ever happened. Here in this chair I is where I dreamed of becoming a pastor. Here in this chair is where I first dreamed of traveling the world, of missions and people to share God’s extravagant love with. Here in this chair I dream, and I remember who I am at my very core–the very best parts of me.

I’ve sat in this chair and poured out heartaches, frustrations, mistakes, hurts and sins. In this chair I’ve found God’s forgiveness, his peace and his wisdom. I sit in the chair and all the pettiness of my life seems to melt away with each breath. All those annoyances that can come from job, friends, marriage, family–they suddenly seem unimportant. In the chair I’m me, and the good of that returns.

Every time I sit in the chair I wonder: Why have I waited so long?

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