{bah-low bah-loo}
Doors are a thing for me. They always have been. With mousy honey brown ponytails and tennis shoes 2 sizes too big, my little girl eyes sought out doorways. In the car. Riding my bike. Walking to school. I am a weathered door seeker. I delight in their design. Marvel I do at their structure, clean lines, arched openings and primitive mail slots too. Do they have a wreath for welcome? Can you peek through to the inside and see? Screen doors with creaks and stalwart doors with dignity devoted to the protection of the family within. Door seeker. That's me. {image credit above}
There's symbolism there. Safe like & protected, I cling to their physical representation. They have purpose; they boast function. Doors hold in. They welcome too. In my years mustered up & piled from life as a young woman to where time's wrinkles meet my recent face of age, I have developed a new draw to my door-dum. Doors have become my mascot for progress measured.
You see, I wake every day with doors open in my mind. Doors each with a different task my day is to include. And I spend my entire awake-working to lie down on night's pillow with all my doors shut. Silly? Yes. True? Totally. The life of a door seeker has come full throttle for me. Ahem. Full throttle. Life? Life lived. Life rearranged. Life flawed & life beautiful These culprits plays into my goal of shut. With honest & tired eyes, I lie down defeated for night's slumber so very often. Though hard as I may push, some doors are left cracked. Some doorways are stuffed & so overflowing that, in my best cramming efforts, the booger WILL NOT close. And some? Some are flung so blatantly wide open, offense is taken if my eyes cut even in the slightest direction of their corner in my mind.
Overachieving happens to little girls with ponytails of mousy honey brown. Yes, perhaps perfection is the heaviest door of all. And He knows that. For He is teaching me that my open entryways are all a part of my seeking. The high arches above are where I find forgiveness. The letter slots for prayers of grit and might and honor. And, I'm not gonna lie, an occasional $%# when I am reminded I am human not hero. The boards solid are holding me in perfect alignment with His welcome. And grace. Hinges, unfaltering and centered, for hidden strength. I am a door seeker. Thank you, Lord.
Freshness of the breeze making its way through my life's openings, it blows onto into my person. I find lightness and feel strength. The walk is not all uphill. Stop making it be. Better yet, stop. Listen. Make progress. Live. Close the doors that you can. Tomorrow holds a brand new set of 24 for you to do it all again. Enjoy, Meg. Enjoy the journey, you door seeker.
Listen to other's stories and hurts. Make the time. Laugh loud at your boys' super sillies. They want you to. They need you to. Sing loud in the truck with the windows down on the way to church. You'll remember that feeling when you're older. And relish what you love. Squish it in your hands like putty again & again. Jesus. Family. Friends. Creating. Fashion.
May His breezes blow me blue.
Some gorgeous Spring looks in a color my hands have been wrapped in as of late:
Hands wrapped in blue, you say? Yes. The studio has been full of this wholesome color of soul & strength.
One of the custom designs on my docket for next week is a Classic Tote in this happy collection. I am so excited to begin work on its production.
And I am beyond thrilled with the custom nursery bedding I just finished in this dapper collection. 
In theme keeping, this delightful scent is not only k.Mac's most popular candle, but it's also March's candle of the month.
Winner of February's FREE candle of the month is Jennie Simmons. Thanks so much for your February candle purchase. To place candle orders, visit here.
Friday. Hi there, buddy. Ah, the wind feels just right coming through my doorways.
Happy weekending to you all.
.mac :)