This on is a tough one.
Recently, I have started milling my own grain, and making my own bread. This has blown up into a major life altering experience. Throughout my life I have been told to watch/care about my diet. I thought I did. I thought I was being careful and considerate of my diet as I tried different eating habits, or different recipes, etc.
I knew nothing.
By venturing into the world of real bread, I realized that i had not been consuming food, but sustenance. Different combinations of altered and enhanced substances created to keep me functioning.
Food is.....creative. It is real, and is beauty. It is sometimes simple, sometimes complex. Real food is not always pretty to begin with. Sometimes the foundational ingredients have flaws; they are misshapen, or dirty and need washed (ie; potatoes....). Real food takes time to prepare.
Yes, food and sustenance can be used interchangeably. But sustenance you don't have to enjoy. Food, you can't help but enjoy.
One would never describe gruel as food. It is sustenance. One would never describe Bolognese as sustenance; that is food.
Anyways, in making bread, I realized, I am making food. Making good food is an art.
...Which then led me to the reality of homemaking. Homemaking is also an art. It is a skill that must be taught, and practiced. A properly run and managed home is a thing of beauty. It is a combination of order and chaos, functionality and impracticality; a unique environment for development and growth where one can be blessed with safety, peace and joy. It also includes good food. It exists on a wavelength; some days are better than others, but all days contribute to the musical composition that is called Life. It exists in all cultures; its not culturally specific, but it is always a thing of beauty.
Homemaking is a lost art.
It is not, however, lost to antiquity. It can be found, and developed. I don't think it can ever be mastered; as people and needs and lifestyles change, homemaking must adjust to compensate.
It is also something that needs protection.
When operating from a place of emotional or physical unrest, creating art is hard. Who has time to think about the beauty of things when one must survive?
I love art. I have always loved art. In my youth, I would always try to draw, or sculpt or paint. In my young adulthood, I surrounded myself with individuals who excelled in the visual or musical arts. I never was able to come close to their talent, but I enjoyed trying to excel in the areas I felt were my strengths. As an adult, I didn't have time for that; "it wasn't my world", I told myself.
But it was. It was in my home. I didn't have to be perfect; I just had to be. I could express my "art" in my food, my organization, my interests. The pictures on the wall. The cleanliness (and style) of the clothes. The shine of the floors. The layout of the furniture. The placement of the plants. The taste of the meals.
My home is my canvas, and there is no wrong way to paint on it.
As my girls grow older, and go on adventures and find out who they are, I pray that they will find their homemaking skills. I can only teach them the basics; the creativity is theirs. I pray they will find husbands who will see the art that is them, and fight to protect it at all costs; even sometimes, against the artist destroying the work of art. Unfinished work can be a mess; but that does not mean it is inadequate.
This weekend, my youngest left for summer camp. I am thrilled for her, and terrified that she will not have fun. I have been reassured by humans who have no idea of the future that she will be fine. I have prayed that she will be kept safe and will have fun.
I'm choosing to believe that God will protect her.
To God, we are unfinished works of art. He is continually shaping and molding us. We are a mess a lot of the time; but He does not give up. He will continue until we are perfect.
And He will protect us as He is shaping us. He protects His works of art. We are all invaluable, unique pieces of art. Irreplaceable.
And worth dying for.