I literally labor to enter into rest. I have learned that if you serve at high levels, you should also Sabbath at high levels. And not long ago, another pastor’s wife messaged me privately, asking me to elaborate.

I don’t know whether to say “I’m sorry” or “you’re welcome”. Because now that I’m getting my thoughts out on the subject, well…

…they just keep coming.

As you’ll soon see.

::cough::

Rest is the cornerstone of Christian theology, because Jesus is the cornerstone of our faith. Rest is to be our permanent perspective. It is to be our posture in life. We are also called to rest as practical lifestyle. As a daughter of God, I am meant to fully and firmly believe in a finished work so redemptive and potent that it requires nothing from me but believing.

That’s grace! Having a gift of life that complete, I find myself able to shift from scarcity to abundance - in both my labor and my rest. With a faith that robust, active and happy, there also comes a willingness to put my hand to the plow, sunrise to sunset, six days a week, in joyful response.

Everything I do, I do heartily, as unto the Lord.

It’s sweet sweat, honestly. It’s also rewarding rest.

Spiritual rest is the foundation of my faith. But I actually don’t want to talk about spiritual rest in this post (!!) I want to talk about rest-rest. I want to talk about physical rest, emotional replenishment, as lifestyle. I want to tell you all about how The Preacher and I have set the goal of having the kind of life and home that we don’t need to leave or escape to be able to rest.

Guys! I even have a name for it.

(…but of course I have a name for it. #enneagram5probs)

It’s extremely gratifying to put a name to a process I’ve engaged since I began creating “home” for my own family.

BACK STORY:

In April of 2017, God took me to Paris for free. (Well, for the cost of a round trip ticket, in full disclosure.) Walking Monet’s gardens, floating for 6 days down the Seine river, praying in a tiny Notre Dame near Normandy, and simply watching how Parisians dress, lunch, brunch, and do home ruined me for the life I had previously lived.

Mise en scene is French for “setting the scene”.

I came home from France with a burning desire to “mise en scene” - to intentionally live beautifully and design a lifestyle of rest like a daughter of a King.

Given, I had always had a strong desire to live beautifully, but honestly? Limitation had me in its stranglehold. For decades, my own theology held me back.

TODAY:

Now, I know that if I serve at a high level, I must rest at an even higher level. The mental and emotional battles I fight, just to make art and minister to women, are very intense. The spiritual attacks I come under because of my love for the New Covenant gospel and the local church would be terrifying, if I did not understand my right to live in “the unforced rhythms of grace”. (…you haven’t lived until Jezebel comes after you…just sayin.)

Sigh. This post is already too long. Because it could be a book. #notjoking I wish I had a whole chapter to “mise en scene” the stage for you, so that you could know how deeply, and why, a spirit of limitation owned my perspective for so long. For many years, I worked to create beauty in my home, with almost no resources. The Lord still met me, and met many of the desires of my heart, but friends…

…He longed to lavish my life!

At the same time, I don’t want you to think that “mise en scene” involves all the bougie things that money can buy. Money can’t buy good taste, style, or the presence of God in your home.

But it could buy a velvet couch in the perfect shade of blue.

Yes, it could buy me that. Remember me, when you win the lotto. I’m not allowed to play it.

Anyhoo. I have to go ham on everyone here, and cut straight to the chase.

When you serve at a high level, do not apologize for making your home a high level refueling station. Set the scene for your one wild and precious life! Again, this does not have to involve major renovations (though it could), nor does it involve having to win a lawsuit or the lotto to pay for it.

It involves your permission.

It involves your passion.

It involves knowing what you love, what inspires you, and what you find to be beautiful.

It involves your season of life.

It involves a finely honed practice of the presence of God.

It involves loving what is yours. If you are married, it involves nourishing the marriage so that the passion between you two is what brings you satisfaction, rest and laughter.

It involves a lot.

Mostly, it involves your five senses, your best dreams, and a willingness to labor to enter into rest - work to make your real home be a place of real rest for the real you.

We live in a cul-de-sac in a semi-sketchy urban neighborhood. We have yet to hit a six-figure income mark. But people come from all over the world (literally) to break bread at our table, and to be loved on by our family.

I’ll boil it down to 5 things that mean the most to me, in practical terms:

Organization, minimalism, no clutter. You wouldn’t know it to look at my desk right now, but I’m a work in progress. I can tell you that I have pared my closet down to less than 40 pieces of clothing, that I have only a few (amazing) recipes on rotation that I cook regularly, to keep from having a bunch of gadgets, exploding pantries, freezer, or fridge. I do all my own cooking and cleaning and I like it that way, and I get rid of “stuff” religiously.

Beauty, beauty, beauty. If it isn’t beautiful, I don’t want it. When in doubt (as to the beauty of a “thing”) throw it out.

I own it. I’m a beauty snob. (And yes, beauty is totally subjective. I don’t judge what you believe to be beautiful, if your taste is different than mine, I promise.)

Music. It is always softly playing. It streams through four speakers located in various spots, inside and outside my home. When you come onto my porch, you will probably hear Spencer Lewis’ The Silence Between the Words. If you circle around to the back yard fire pit, you’ll hear the same music.

I always turn the music ON when I leave. Because it means a whole, whole (whole) lot to come home to “mise en scene” - to a home that welcomes us.

No telling what kind of sad, hard thing we had to tend to while we were away. It is untelling the hours of work that were engaged, or the people served. It needs to feel good to come home.

Home should feel like an exhale, not a project.

(Granted, it’s a project before it’s an exhale. I know…I know.)

Outdoor “rooms”. I don’t have a view. Well, unless you count 3 adorable grandwildlings as the very best view (which I do). But I do have outdoor rooms. I have seating areas, a pond with a waterfall in the front, a tiered fountain in the back, an outdoor fireplace (very basic, and hand made from reclaimed brick), and a long (l o n g) table that can comfortably sit 15 people. And I will trick that table out, just for my family. I’m talking table linens, fresh flowers, beautiful Italian made green glass bottles for filtered water, set all up and down the table, mismatched silver, my best plates….all for hot dogs off the grill.

Oh, in a heart beat. We do it all the time.

Scent. I’m always diffusing oils. I only use two brands, and neither one is bougie: Eden’s Garden, and the oils that my friend Terrica Joy Smith carries in her Apothecary.

(not an ad…I don’t make a dime for sharing my best sources…)

In the summer, I bring in bouquets of fresh rosemary, mint, and cilantro. (Yes, cilantro - the plant - smells like heaven to me!). In the winter, I light a fire in our Preway, because I must have fire and the smell of burning wood makes me deliriously happy, allergies be damned.

I said I would narrow it down to 5 things. In closing, consider this “5A, 5B, 5C”, and so on:

Original art, beeswax candles, fresh flowers always, a garden, chickens (not my own - they belong to my daughters who both live in the two houses next door), a cage full of tiny, happy finches (those are mine), a curated supply of toys for the grandkids. These are beautiful toys that always sit out and about - things like a magnifying glass, a crystal ball (not the fortune telling kind, the “looking at the world through it” kind), a kaleidoscope, this deck of amazing playing cards, a sketch book and Palomino pencils, and wooden puzzles.

A hot drink station with espresso machine, 3 kinds of tea (no exploding pantries or messy drawers if I can help it), raw sugar, honey, straws, fun bottled drinks, and maybe the occasional Bailey’s Irish Cream.

Friends. The best most beautiful accessory.

A vibrant married love - no amount of good design or pretty things can overcome a tense atmosphere.

A sweet, sweet presence of God - always available, always a beautifying force, always a peace to be reckoned with.