Tag: #artisans

Feel the Music

When someone newly sober asks how long I’ve been sober, it’s almost embarrassing to answer. I bow my head and mumble, “23 years”. They are shocked and ask, “How’d you do it?” I’m quick to admit, “It wasn’t me.”

I do know, if it wasn’t for sobriety, the life I live now wouldn’t exist. I’d most likely be dead. This has been one of those weeks where I see glimpses of my maker in every little thing. This morning I met an Artisan in a parking lot to look at her handmade, cloth bowls. I came home with one, but took note of her email address knowing she’d create specific ones in the future.

Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I’m walking through every door that crack opens toward that future. Just like meeting with an Artisan in a nearby parking lot.

I returned home, as my daughter was leaving the house and showed her the bowl. She knows my dream for the future, and sees me taking steps toward it. As I strolled down the hallway, shedding my jacket I shouted over one shoulder, “Look at us now”, thinking how far we’ve come, but I know better than that. It will forever be, “Look what you’ve done!”

Look What You’ve Done ~ Tasha Layton

Maybe You’ve Changed

My daughter made my Chemex this morning. She was getting ready to leave for classes, but paused long enough to do that.

That’s true love.

She stayed home this weekend, so I didn’t make weekend plans. I just wanted to hang out with her in that weekend vibe. Life has her on a rapid schedule right now, so it was different for her to just chill. We went to one of our favorite small towns yesterday and strolled the streets of downtown.

lattes

We walked into one of my favorite shops, or so I thought. There was a day not too long ago I would drive to that town just for that shoppe. It’s full of Artisan goods on display and for sale. One of my favorite Potters has his work there and I soon found his display taking up a corner of the store.

I picked up one of his coffee mugs and cradled it in my hand. It didn’t have the same feel as the mugs we use today. My daughter said, “You know I will slip some of those mugs from Dad’s for you if you want.” I used to collect this potter’s work, but left all of it in the cabinet when we left.

Placing it back on the shelf, I said, ‘Nah.’ Our mugs feel like love when you hold them.

This mug belonged on display.

Leaving the shoppe, I looked down at the sidewalk and told my daughter, “I didn’t see anything in there today that resonated with me. It used to be one of my favorite shoppes, but maybe it’s changed.”

She stood with me in that moment and softly said, “Maybe you’ve changed.”