Your House Doesn't Need Fancy Stuff to Be a Home

I secretly really like fall.

{I can't love it, because winter lurks in the shadows right around the corner.}

I like the crisp fresh air and chilly breeze and having to wear an extra layer on a run in the early morning, and sweatshirts, and butternut squash and not feeling disloyal to summer when I crave making a big pot of soup and letting it simmer on the stove, and apples, and leaf piles in front yards and spilling over curbs.

I remember the novelty of a new school year, and hay rides through orchards and watching apples pressed into apple cider, and going with someone to my first football game ever my senior year of college.

Since the school buses have been on the roads again the last few weeks and it's felt like fall the last few days, I decided it was a good time to come up with a new front-door wreath for the new season. I collected a few handfuls of small branches from around the front yard and tied them together with some white yarn I found in my gift bag of ribbons and bows and whatever else, and then I decided to add some red leaves for color.



It isn't quite as intentionally unconventional and rustic as some of the pictures I'd seen as inspiration. The white yarn, tied criss-cross around the branches, looks cheap compared to the look of tan jute, and the leaves look like they're being used to try to camouflage the stark white yarn or something, and in retrospect, I probably should have used more branches so it didn't look so skinny. It really is a bit pathetic-looking.

I hung the wreath of twigs and leaves on the front door anyway.

Because it's not what you decorate your front door with that makes your home inviting.

The more I've pondered house and home and if it's filled with plenty of furniture and evidence of interior design skills and pinterest projects, the more I've been recognizing that it doesn't matter what your house is filled with, it matters what your heart is full of.







It's okay if there aren't real-wood cubbies and the shoes are left sprawled where they were kicked off when everyone came in, if home is a place of warm welcome, and grace. It's okay if some seats are on the living room floor, if home is a place of rest. It's okay if the fruit salad was forgotten in the fridge, if home is a place where there is real Fruit — joy, peace, patience, kindness.

And it's okay if there are not enough chairs around the table if there is more than enough love.

No comments :

Post a Comment