Rainbow Loom-We've Got the Goods.

These things are about to become "outlawed" at my kids' school.  I can't deny my oldest son didn't have something to do with this.  I mean really, he only took orders and passed out the goods on the playground.  He said he only did it during recess.  He is only allowed to wear three bracelets and one necklace to school.  The rest sit forlorn and ignored on my kitchen counter for most of the day.

That isn't to say the rubber bands are left alone during the day...a two year-old has to get in on the action, too.

BB-the oldest and Rainbow Band Dealer-has his ear to the ground at school.  He has overheard one 2nd grade teacher telling his teacher that she's going to have to limit how many the kids wear,  But he's pretty sure the bracelets are here to stay because the Principal wears "at least four."

Get your orders in!

Everything Happens For a Reason

A week before school started I began looking for a red backpack which EG used and now LP would begin to take to school with him.  After turning the house upside down and shaking it, hard, I couldn't find the backpack.

A few weeks later a group of four library books could not be found.  These lost items continued to be part of our family conversations up until this week.

On Tuesday, I posted something on Facebook saying I needed to find these items.  It was one final declaration of defeat.  I was headed to the library to pay the fines and clear my name.  (I had managed to keep them 'renewed' so I didn't owe overdue fines, but had given up on finding the books and wanted them off my mental list.)

Instead of heading right to the library, I decided to stop and check out some accent chairs I had my eye on.

The Husband and I had looked at some other chairs over the weekend and the price (and size) was too large for the room we are working on. With that price dancing through my mind I went to the design shop "just to check on" the accent chairs I had passed by earlier in the fall.

The pleasant interior designer greeted me and I asked about my chairs.  I was prepared for them to be custom furniture, with fabric options and a hefty price tag.  She went on to tell me they were some "estate finds" that she had re-purposed.  In fact, she had just written up an article about these exact chairs for a local women's newspaper.  Then she quoted the price.  It was wellllll below what I had prepared myself for and even within my "just get them" budget (insofar as this well discussed room project would go).  Giddy with design joy, I said I would take them!  She was happy.  I was happy and even LP seemed pleased by the whole exchange.

But I had to move somethings around in the car before I could transport my new found love.  I unhooked a car seat and flipped down two seats in my minivan.  Giddy, and now a bit sweaty, I flipped up the final seat.

Guess what I found?  A red backpack and three library books!!*  Just like that!  I have no understanding of how they got into this particular place after our summer vacation, but seven and five year-olds can be very inventive.  Not to mention, forgetful.

I shared my every increasing joy with the design lady and bundled up my new chairs.  I paid her and took off.  I was so in love.  So excited.

But love and excitement can be blind.

One day these chairs will serve as a sermon illustration about how love is blind.  Sometimes that blindness can be helpful, when we overlook flaws to see the deeper qualities of a person (or chair) but other times that blindness can serve to keep us from seeing the deeper truth about a situation (or chair), the deep brokenness of someone (or chair.)  I'll wrap up the sermon by talking about how God sees both our brokenness and our deeper qualities and in spite of both, loves us.

But that is a sermon for another day.  Today, I just want to say, my love for the possibility of a finished room/project and my joy over the lines of the chairs, blinded me to the larger truth about their qualities.

The minute they got into my house they became ugly.  And, they only got uglier as the day went on.  It hit me that I hadn't negotiated with the designer.  AT. ALL.  I realized I wanted to change the paint color.  Deep down I had always known that the seat cushions were all wrong for my design vision.  (we have paint and fabric picked out)  Then a much more wise person--from a photograph!--noticed some structural flaws in the chairs.  Major structural flaws.

Blind. Love.

By the time my husband saw them, I had called the designer and told her they would be coming back.

In between the time the scales on my eyes had fallen off, and I called the woman, I had a very small, but very real anxiety attack over how I would disappoint this very nice stranger.  I was overcome with panic about having to confront her about the ever-growing-ugly chairs.  I was embarrassed and overwhelmed by my epic failure in adult shopping.

And, after all, God had used her to help me find my backpack and library books.  I hope she understood as she refunded my money.

It makes for a good story.

Well, worth the price of a reminder lesson on Love's blindness.

Here is a photo of one of the chairs.  My heart no longer feels anything for them.

(well, that's not completely true...love is blind and hard to shake.)