Just Catching Up {Alternately Titled: Me in My Comfy Pants}

I just want to sit down and talk like we are friends. No formal post, no over editing, just talking: friend to friend. Not even anything super heavy. Just catching up, you know?

Sometimes I think in my love for words, painting pictures, and editing, I can kind of get lost back here. I am always me, and I am always me when I write.  But sometimes, I think you need to ditch the Sunday clothes, and put on your metaphorical comfy pants and t-shirt and just hang. 

So here's me, in my comfy clothes. (Well, the writing. That's my daughter in the picture.)

Mustache Mantis.

And here’s the current happenings in my life in no particular order:

1. My husband is now a solo deputy. Training is done. Mike is less stressed. We have a schedule, and the same one till the end of the year. He doesn’t have to be at work quite so early, and he has to stay over less frequently. We have the chance to sit down and eat as a family. My husband even has time to help with baths or dishes now. Friends, it is a beautiful thing! It feels like we can breathe again. {Deep breathe, hold it, and exhale. Ahhhh!}

2. We are starting to get the hang of homeschooling. We have had some rough days, and sometimes it seems like we might be a little crazy for doing this. But I love it. I get to watch my daughter learn to read, light up with wonder when we do a project or experiment, and let all this learning flow into our lives. I so value this time and that I get to be so apart. I also value things like awanas and gymnastics where I get to drop her off and have a little time to myself or with just my son.

3. I went with a dear friend and her kids to this local and awesome fall place last week. Apple picking, AMAZING pies, pumpkin patch, hay maze, petting zoos. We went on a weekday and called it a field trip. Two things I am learning: One: Fuji apples eaten right off a tree... I don't think anything compares. I've eaten plenty of apples in my day, but mini Fuji's, right off a tree... beautiful. Do it, friends. Two: Homeschooling is hard work, but there are some serious perks to it... like visiting a really popular (read: crowded) attraction on a weekday. 

Apple-picking, Pumpkin-patching with friends.

4. My gramps passed away a month ago. It felt like I was grieving his death, my granny’s all over again, and the sun setting on a generation and rising on a new one. That combined with some different changes in my life, and I just couldn’t get many words to form, like I needed silence to grieve—silence to feel the emptiness, the things that are no more. (I think I only made a peep or two on facebook and nothing here for three weeks straight.) I don’t know what it is about stillness and silence, but healing seems to be there.

I got to write up my gramps’ biography with my dad. It was just priceless to get to go through his life and learn about him, the Great Depression, World War 2, the Korean War, his and my granny’s love story, their many cross-country moves… I might have known who he was, but I felt like I got a glimpse into why he was. I can’t even tell you how proud of my heritage I was when we showed up to the funeral and the Navy had sent a few of their officers to honor him.  My aunt was given an American flag and Taps rang out after guns were fired. I just wanted to shout, “You did it, Gramps! You lived and breathed. You fought and you overcame. You provided for your family. You left behind an inheritance richer than your savings account and property. And now you are at peace. I am proud to be your granddaughter and so very thankful.”

5. My son wanted to wear his Thomas the Train underpants five days ago. He’s been in underpants ever since. He’s had a few pee-pee accidents, but he’s got it. We are over the potty training hurdle.  It’s so funny though, I think I might need to invest in a magazine rack or something because the boy really likes going to the bathroom and taking his sweet time. This morning we had the certified teacher over to check in on us (with the charter school) and Jed decided that was the time to go… for 20 minutes, shouting his play-by-play from the bathroom the entire time. Your welcome CT teacher for all the TMI going on in our house this morning.

Besides bedtime, there are no more diapers in this house. (Shout it with me: YAY!) But for some reason that seems very strange… like I need another baby. {My husband doesn’t agree (yet).} :)

Overalls on my Jed. Swoon.

6. I am bursting at the seams with all kinds of posts I want to share, maybe even a series or two.

October and November might have more posts than normal, folks. (Did you notice this is the 3rd post this week?! That hasn't happened in months.) And I am excited about it. I sorta love this writing thing, this organizing of thoughts, this key-tapping word-dance between me and my Friend Jesus. 

I also love connecting with you all. I can’t even tell you how much richer my life is because of this beautiful blogging community. Thank you!

So, what's going on with you? Chat with me in your comfy pants in the comments? :)

By Grace,

Amanda Conquers

The Greatest Work

When I was 21, I moved to Los Angeles for an internship with a missions organization. It was an amazing time in my life, and it left me forever changed. I still remember showing up to skid row dressed in plaid golf pants, red sneakers, and a matching bow in my hair. One black woman dressed in rags walked towards me shouting to her friends, “Oh! Look at the cute little white girl!” All I heard was, “Little girl, who do you think you are coming down here in your matchy outfit thinking you gonna save me?!”  This small-town girl felt so out of place.

I gained a vision for evangelism that summer. I ditched my suburban worldview and traded it for a heart that bleeds for people. I have never been the girl that could talk to complete strangers about weather or gas prices. But I learned to sense the Holy Spirit and hear the words He did want me to say. I learned obedience and all about God's faithfulness.  I led worship for the first time in my whole life, me and my acoustic guitar with much fear and trembling. God you have to show up because if you don’t and it’s just me up here, it’s going to be all bad. I talked to addicts about the Jesus who was Hope, always Hope. Even though I didn’t know what it was like to sleep on the streets or to be high, I knew what it was like to be without Hope and how there was no pit so deep that God’s love was not deeper still. I connected with a 6 year old in Tijuana. I called her Liliana Chistosita, “Silly Lily en Ingles.” She was the oldest of 4 and while her mother worked, she looked after her siblings. She had a smile that was brighter than the desert sun and freckles on her nose.  I told her “JesuCristo te ama, Liliana. Recuerde por siempre.” Always remember Jesus loves you. I still pray for her.

A year later, I married my hunk of a husband, and we immediately stepped into children’s ministry. We made slime, gave away a whole lot of candy (your welcome, parents) and told church kids and neighborhood kids alike about the love of God. We lived on the poor side of town, on a street that had plenty of gang activity and drug deals… and a whole lot of children. My street was my mission field. A few months of living there and just about every kid on that street knew I had candy, random kid’s games and if they were bored or mom or dad were high or fighting they could hang out at my house.

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Sometimes, if I am honest, I look at all that back-then stuff. Sometimes, I feel useless, like “just a mom.” Is this what being a housewife is? I can’t shake the knowing that God wants me here, all here, not working on children’s ministry props, meeting with staff, or writing lessons. I know I am living in the neighborhood He wants me in, where people hurry to work and complain about the poor pulling cans out of the dumpster.

God can you still use me? Are you still speaking? Am I not listening? Am I so wrapped up in life that I have forgotten that you are the Hope of the world and I have been given the ministry of reconciliation?

I grabbed my Bible tonight. Today’s reading started off with a thought about making the most of every opportunity especially as moms with our kids. And then I read this: “Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone.” (Colossians 4:5-6)

Live wisely among those who are not believers…

And then it hits me.

My kids.

Kids are not believers by default. Parents cannot carry their kids to cross, they can only point the way. Growing up in a Christian home usually yields a great foundation for a relationship with Christ, but it does not equal salvation.

I am living with precious, very moldable, very impressionable children.

And, I am essentially living with “those who are not (yet) believers.”

I don’t want to argue at what point a person is saved or whether Jesus living in one’s heart is Biblical or at what age someone reaches accountability. It’s just not really the point. My kids might know Jesus. My daughter might have even professed her desire to have Jesus live in her heart. But she hasn’t outgrown my care. I still make decisions for her. At some point, my kids are going to grow up and they are going to have to decide for their own selves what they believe and how they are going to live.

Right now, the first place I need to pour out my salt and light is my home.

Perhaps, I am a bit dense and some of you are going to read this and say “Duh. Amanda.”  But my kids are my greatest mission field. They are my highest and greatest calling. And if there is one thing I learned from doing children’s ministry, it is this: children’s parents will make the biggest impact on their life, for better or worse.

Paul says to live wisely, to make the most, to extend grace.  Instead of attractive conversations, other translations say “seasoned with salt.” Paul is saying to let your words draw them in, enhance the flavor of the conversation, and make them thirsty for Christ.

And now I am looking at myself. The way I carry myself in my home, around my kids. Do I do that? Do I live thinking of the long term ramifications of my words and actions on their beliefs? Am I alert, ready, always making the most of every opportunity to share my faith with my kids? Does the way I parent reflect the way God’s been so gracious to me, or do I get lazy or let myself get frazzled and just do what makes for the fastest results? And my words… Do I draw them in, make them thirsty for Christ??

My kiddos in the pool with a lizard they caught.

 I think in some ways, there’s this part of me that confuses bringing glory to God with bringing glory to myself. I want these amazing stories, these grand pieces of God-obviousness to string up through my life. Look at what God did through me. I led this many souls to Christ.  The day-in-and-out grind of motherhood yields slow results… and not even guaranteed results. But it’s a grand work—that God would take your hands and place them to soft clay.  Molding and shaping, giving and giving more, living poured out. 

Your purpose, their soul.

Is there a grander work you could be a part of?

By Grace,
Amanda Conquers

Sharing this here:

Psst.... And don't forget. This mom devotional is still available for $3.99 using the code: UMLAUNCH20 and a full of great reminders to live "all-in" with your kids. Affliate link used.

On the Tough Business of Motherhood {Plus, a Deal, a Giveaway, AND an Awesome Resource}

“Just a mom.”

I have thought this phrase, said this phrase. As if somehow the entire calling of motherhood is part-time or not enough…

Because, you know, having life form in your body, changing your body for nine months and then pushing that life into the world through much pain is no big deal. And I suppose all that time where your life revolved around feeding schedules and naptimes and all the sleep you lost was just a small matter. The way you worry about busy streets, strangers, and hazards everywhere you go, the way you feel like your heart might burst when two chubby arms squeeze your neck, the way you wipe noses and bottoms, the way you agonize over whether you are doing what’s best, the way you bathe and read bedtime stories, the way you mold and shape the lives that have been entrusted to you… eh, anybody could do it.

Um…

Mom. You are kind of a big deal. And being a mom is your highest and your greatest calling.

I know it’s tough. The way you long for just five minutes of quiet, the way you feel under-appreciated and like you just fall so short of what you think a mom should be. The way you endure stares from strangers when your kid decides to throw the temper tantrum of the century in the middle of the store. The way being a mom requires more sacrifices than you might have realized. The way you long for something that you feel good at…

Because I know, some days you probably go to bed feeling like you have no clue what is best for your child and like you completely stink at mothering.

Motherhood shows you how much you need Jesus like nothing else can.

These are the hard years. The in-the-trenches years. The years where you do the most molding and the most shaping. The years where your time and attention do the most and mean the most.

I don’t know about you, but “I don’t want to look back on my life in twenty years and

realize that I wasted the precious time I had with [my kids] by living in a state of perpetual distraction. I don’t want to be ruled by all of my 'supposed to’s'; I want to walk in Truth, with a purpose.”

Yes. Please.

My friend Kayse just released her ebook Undivided Mom today. That quote is from her book and one very good reason to read it.

Can I tell you about it?

Undivided Mom is a 14-day devotional for moms. Each day is either based on a passage of scripture or a real-life story. The Bible passages are relevant and the stories, well, I felt like they could have been written from my own motherhood experiences.

Kayse writes like she’s your friend, cheering you on, in the trenches of motherhood with you. The ebook is packed full of easy-to-digest truths and easy-to-put-into-practice wisdom.

I loved reading it so much, I sorta just read the whole thing in one sitting because I didn’t want to stop reading. And then I went back and read it again so I could highlight all the truth and wisdom (and not because it was given to me to review. But because I needed to hear so much of the stuff that was in there).

It’s easy to divide our attention and not do the thing God has put before us because some days (most days), it’s downright hard to be a mom. This book will remind you of the high calling of motherhood and challenge you to live an undivided life. To be an all-in mom.

I want to be that kind of mom. An Undivided Mom.

So, here’s the deal:

I get to offer my readers a coupon code for 20% off!! That makes Undivided Mom only $3.99 (Psst... that's less than thirty cents a day for each devotional.) Offer is only good until October 13, 2013. 
Coupon Code: UMLAUNCH20

Maybe get it now?

I do want to let you know, I am an affliate. That means if you click the links from this website to make your purchase, I receive a percentage for the referral. But can I be clear? That's not why I am mentioning this book. I believe in it. And I believe it's needed (I needed it anyways). But, you know, I totally wouldn't mind a little coffee money. :) So, if you read here and want to buy this book, please use the links provided here. That's all you have to do to give me credit for the sale. Just follow her instructions to make the purchase from her site. I'll still get the credit ;)

Also! I need to let you know, Kayse has an awesome give away going on for the book launch. Starbucks Card. Purse. Travel Bag. Coin purse. Cute. (And did I mention the Starbucks card?) Book or not, maybe put your name in the drawing?

Also! (another also!) There is a twitter party going down tonight. Want to come hang with me? Be brave with me? (Twitter parties totally scare me, but I do believe this one will be fun... and there's prizes.)

What's your current parenting struggle, Momma? Maybe be brave and share in the comments? I'd love to pray with you.
And since I'm asking you, I'll be brave and say I am struggling with navigating my daughter through change. Perhaps I will write on this more later, but she seems to have as much difficulty with change as I do. She's been having nightmares and been extra emotional :( I could use God's wisdom.



By Grace,
Amanda Conquers


By the way, I also need to let you know, I was given a copy of this book in exchange for my thoughts. The thoughts and opinions are entirely my own.

Also, (there are a lot of "also's" in this post!) I miss you guys! I am hoping to be back at least once more this week with a "what's been going on round here" type post... and maybe one more. AND I have an exciting series in the works full of FUN girlie stuff for us women. More info to come! 

How Does Salt Lose Its Saltiness?

It’s 2 pm on a weekday and I’m driving to Walmart. I have a list of groceries, and an hour to myself. It’s been a week since Mike completed field training. He is a cop. This is our life now—crazy schedule included. There’s the budget that we just can’t seem to meet. The house we wish we owned. The longing to establish some kind of routine for my kids. The college fund that hasn’t been set up. The hand-me-down couch. The two cars that are both over ten years old. The door I wish I had a fall wreath for.

A thousand ways to be distracted. A thousand things that seem necessary.

And yet, I can’t shake the story I read yesterday. The headline: “A Global Slaughter of Christians but America’s Churches Stay Silent.” And inside the article: the story of one woman, Rasha, who called her fiancé’s, Atef’s, phone. Instead of hearing the voice of the one she loves, an unfamiliar voice told her that Atef’s throat was slit for refusing to convert to Islam. Before that voice ends the conversation, he mocks her with these words: “Jesus didn’t come to save [Atef].”

Atef lived in the reality that he would have a choice, to deny Christ or to live for him. A choice that might cost him his life.

A choice he made at knife-point.

And really, I have that same choice every day. That decision might not cost me my life… but it might cost me my soul. Will I deny Christ?

The decision is subtle here between Newport Beach and the Hamptons with our strip malls and freedoms, where we sing of blurred lines and how we can’t stop and we won’t stop. Where there is worry about housing prices and the job market and the government shutdown… will I deny Christ or live knowing that He is my Daily Bread? Where I get wrapped up in schedules and how my life has changed… will I deny Christ or live knowing Him as my Center, my Constant? Where there are things like Miley Cyrus spinning out of control and whether transgender should be allowed to choose which locker-room they prefer… will I deny Christ or live knowing the God who IS Love? Will I live distracted? Will I live for stuff? Will I hide my head under a pillow and pretend there aren’t Christians who are being martyred and imprisoned daily because that reality is terrifying?

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This Saturday we went to an evening service. The pastor spoke on salt and light. In the passage Jesus poses this question: “If salt has lost its saltiness, what good is it?” (Matthew 5:13)

How does salt lose its saltiness?

I think Jesus was intentionally asking something that would baffle. Salt doesn’t lose flavor. It isn’t natural or normal, just like light doesn’t fail to change a dark room. So what is a Christian that denies Christ? That doesn’t change their environment? That doesn’t make someone thirsty for the only One who really satisfies? That doesn’t live in the reality of who Jesus is and what He promised He’d do?

Syria seems like a hard place to be a Christian right now, but I think America might be harder.

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As I was driving feeling both convicted and burdened for my brothers and sisters on the other side of the planet, I turned up some Delirious.

“My heart, it burns for You. And my heart burns for You.”

I belted those words through stinging hot tears, as though my words could be the fireplace poker awakening a barely-smoldering fire. My heart burns for You. Not for stuff. Not for home-ownership. Not for an earlier bed-time or better routine. Not for stability. But You. The desire of You. The holy pursuit of friendship with You.

Just give me Jesus.

I don’t want to live denying Christ. I want to live like He’s changed me to my very core… because He has.

I arrived at two conclusions today:

1. I have no idea what the proper response of the American church is to the slaughter of Christians in Egypt, Kenya, Pakistan, and Syria. But I do believe prayer is the one clear thing we can do… the one clear thing we are called to do.

2. The only way to make it as a Christian in America is to realize we are deciding whether or not to deny Christ everyday. Perhaps this a simple truth, but I do believe we need to meet with God daily… to burn. To light the fire afresh. To burn away the cares of this world, the distractions, and remember the one thing that really matters: Knowing Jesus. Not knowing about Him. But Knowing Him as friend.

By Grace,

Amanda Conquers

Here’s that Delirious song, Obsession:

Linking up with the #TellHisStory community

Hide It Under a Bushel.

Yesterday I had one of those terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days.

You know the ones: you run behind for the first day of something, and you promised yourself you would be on time. You forget to put on deodorant. You drop your cell phone in the toilet. You blunder your way through a lesson for preschoolers in front of first-time parents. You notice the subtle signs that someone in your circle of friends probably doesn’t much care for you. You attempt small talk with a new friend and end up bringing up a painful topic that you really didn’t want to talk about, and all of sudden you feel incredibly awkward and embarrassed. You feel the sting of someone carelessly mentioning how they can’t believe anyone actually has the time to blog and, with all the other social media outlets, why anyone would want to.

Today, yesterday tormented me. Amanda who is terribly awkward and clumsy. Amanda who can’t do something simple like small-talk. Amanda who is still grieving. Amanda who is apparently hard to be around. Amanda who does weird things like make time to write on a blog. Amanda who actually thinks she could write a book.

So, here I am sitting outside of Starbucks, laptop out, tapping keys, unable to produce a decent thought because I worry about what people think of me and what I write. I am uncomfortable in my own skin. In my moment of self-deprecation, I glance over and my eyes catch the sight of fountaingrass dancing in the glow of the setting sun.  The foxtail ends look lit from within, fluttering about like fireflies through a sticky July dusk.

Immediately, I want to pull out my camera and capture it. And as soon as that thought enters, another one follows: busy street, busy Starbucks. People will see. People will think I am weird bent over with my average camera snapping pictures of a strip mall planter.

That moment presents me with a choice, the same one that presents itself everyday: to live worshiping my Creator with the passions He placed in my heart or to live stifled under the expectations of others.

Because really, if you are going to live lit up with your passions, people will notice. Worship calls out the greatness of the Creator. Worship reflects His greatness too.

The worshiper gets lit up like a foxtail in a setting summer sun.

Somedays, I feel awkward in this skin. The girl who desperately wants approval, who doesn’t want to color outside the lines of the housewife role, who doesn’t want to draw too much attention to herself because some of that attention might look like rejection... she picks on the girl who takes great delight in putting beauty within the four corners of a lens, who likes her big-frame glasses and her purple pants, and who somehow comes alive when she is organizing her words and thoughts on the screen of her laptop. She might even feel like sometimes her fingertip-to-key tapping is really a dance of passion between her heart and God’s.

And really, it's the fight of pride: to bring glory to oneself or to God. Self-glory looks to people for approval. God-glory seeks only God's approval. And isn't it strange how self-glory--how pride--wants to deny oneself of who they really are? And isn't is a grand thing that God delights in the very thing that brings us delight?

How will I live? How will you live?

Will you do your worship dance in the passion that lights you up… behind a camera, pen to paper, in front of a black board before little faces, hands to dirt raising plants from the ground, covering miles of nature trails in running shoes, touching paint to canvas, strumming guitar strings, singing, baking, cooking, creating, organizing…

Or will you worry what people will think?

And just like that, I push my chair back and walk toward dancing reeds and a glowing sun.

Here I am: awkward, silly, occasionally clumsy and learning to care less… learning to like God’s creation (me)… learning to worship.

I will not hide under a bushel of worry or expectations. Oh no, I am going to let it shine. 

Since I just gushed about some of my passions, I'd love it if you shared with me: what passions do you worship with? What makes you come alive? 

By Grace, 

Amanda Conquers

Psst... My beautiful inside-and-out friend Becky posted earlier this week on a similar topic. She addresses comparison and the reason why we as women sometimes hold back when it comes to our passions. It was well-written and pricked at my heart. You can find it---> HERE.

Sharing in this lovely community:

For Sunday Morning

This one’s for the single mom, the military spouse, the cop’s wife, the woman whose husband won’t go to church. This one’s for the woman who does the toothbrush, pajama, bedtime story, no-more-getting-out-of-bed-son routine all by herself and then wakes up on Sunday morning to get herself and her kids dressed, ready, and looking decent… and wearing matching shoes… also by herself.

This one’s for the woman who doesn’t have the luxury of applying her make-up in the passenger seat while someone else drives.

This one’s for the woman who took all three of her kids to 3 different Sunday school classes and survived one “no-I don’t-want-you-to-leave-me!” tantrum. This one’s for the woman who snuck in during the middle of the third song and sat down in the very back, the one for whom just making it is a victory in itself.

This one’s for the momma who feels small, like everyone notices that there is no man present and wonders about it.  This one’s for the momma who dreads the cue to “turn and greet somebody” because all you see is husbands and wives and this magical land of perfect families and you forget you belong here.

This one’s for the weary one, the bone-tired one desperate for a touch from God, the one who wants to sink into her pew when the minister talks about serving because just getting to church is really all you have to give.

This one’s for the one who overcomes temper tantrums, self-pity, lost mascara, missing shoes, slow drivers, and the worry that maybe you don’t fit in because you don’t look how you think church-goers should look. This one’s for the woman who puts her children above herself, the one who pushes back the lies of the enemy, the one who tries to be transparent, the one who chooses to live in community with other believers, the one who seeks after God’s face with all her heart. This one’s for the one who doesn’t always feel like being that woman.

This is for you.

This is for me too.

Maybe you need to know that it is really hard for me to get to church right now. Maybe you need to know you aren’t alone. Maybe you need to know that I see you. Maybe you need to know that the church is made of misfits, of broken, of sinners, and that the enemy would like nothing better than for you to think you don’t belong. Maybe you need to know that sometimes in this following-Christ life, the way we feel doesn’t match what God requires.

Do it anyways.

Do it for your children. Do it for your husband (or the one that may be in your future). Do it for yourself. Do it because it’s worship, because it’s sacrifice, and because it’s community… and all are important. Do it because the church needs your voice. Do it for the woman who is struggling to get to church too. Do it because you are keeping the enemy from getting the victory.

In this uncomfortable space, in this desperate and lonely place, I have seen God work in my heart. I have fallen deeper in love with Him. My sufficiency has decreased, so Christ’s very present and abundant grace has increased in my life.

Sometimes I feel like I barely have anything to give… what could I possible bring to the body of Christ? Tired, weary, barely wanting to go to church, and never making it on time… what do I have to give? And somehow in this place, God reminds me: Your salvation is free. And My love is yours. You cannot do anything to earn it.  You just have it.

My pride hates all that I am learning, but it’s kind of an amazing thing to behold.

God. Is. For. Me… and that truth cannot be shaken from me. I know know it.

I can hear His soft voice:

Rest in me. I have prepared a place for you.

And that raising children (and supporting your husband) business? That’s kind of a big deal.

And that mom who is sitting by herself? You know what it’s like to be her, go love on her for Me.

So maybe instead of closing with a question, how about I close with a challenge? How about you find someone at church today who is all by their lonesome and after you ask for their name and how they are, give them that look... you know, the you are welcome and you belong here and I don't really care what baggage you came with because I got some of my own too and how about we learn to follow Christ together look. (Is there such a look? I think there should be. :)) 

By Grace,

Amanda Conquers

Retro Office-Classroom Space

We live in a two bedroom home. We chose this place because, well, our budget doesn't allow for us to rent anything larger than two bedrooms at the moment and because this place came with a little 10x9 bonus room. It has no door or closet, but it makes for the perfect office.

Now that we are homeschooling, I have to share my creative space with a classroom. 

So, armed with very little money, this woman set out to make the space a great learning environment and a place where I could retreat in the morning and evenings to pray, read and write.

I sorta love the way it turned out. 

The design plan started when my mom (who runs a thrift store) got a few desks in. I fell in love with the lines of the desk. They were solid wood, sturdy, were designed for two kids, and were completely retro.

I also found a mint paint chip that just seemed happy, energizing, and perfect for a retro classroom.

I used Glidden Minty Green in flat for the bottom of the desk and Glidden White Muslin in flat for the top.

My mom convinced me to try out chalk painting for distressing. I fell in love.

It was easy to make chalk paint. Easy to apply. Easy to distress. And the wax? Well, it is easy to apply too, easy to make your furniture look shabby and aged, and it feels like butter to the touch when you are done. (Are you catching the easy theme?)

We are almost two weeks into school and so far it's done a great job of holding up against crayons and two rough kids. If you like wood working or furniture restoration, I highly recommend looking into chalk painting.

Isn't she pretty?!

I found THESE free alphabet card printables and strung them up with yarn and mini clothespins. 

Addy really wanted to put the painted wooden butterfly, flower and crown in her space. I really didn't want to let her because they just didn't fit with my design scheme. But, you know, Addy is in this space and it needs to feel like home to her too. So I let her. :)

My mom had some of those old kitchen cabinet doors lying around in the thrift store... you know, the standard 90's-track-home oak kind? I turned one into a chalkboard. The frame got the same white and the same treatment as the desk and the inside was painted with actual chalkboard paint.

I thought I would use the board to teach from, but, as it turns out, it is a great way to keep little brother occupied.

My favorite part about using old cabinets (besides the free part)? We used the original hinges as our hardware! EASY! Plus, it seems to fit in with the retro theme. I added two pieces of those picture mounting Command Strips to the back to keep the kids from pulling the bottom of the chalkboard away from the wall and then releasing it to bang against the wall. Kids seem to like to make noise like that.

I used another cabinet door above my desk for a sign as a personal reminder to me.

I love the way it turned out.

It seems to be the phrase God keeps speaking to me... when I want Addy to just get through the school work and just magically understand the concepts... when I am wanting to go places with my writing and the kids need my attention... when the to-do list is long and I want to skip time in my Word and in prayer... when I am "running late" and hurrying and could completely miss the gifts in my day (and teach my kids how to miss them too)...

Walk Slowly.

My daughter asked me about what the sign said. Her response: "Oh. Like we aren't supposed to run in our classroom?"

{And momma grinned.}


I put a few more quotes up that I thought would help me as a homeschooler, a writer and a human in general.

I love this one: "The bravest love is wildly faithful and it falls hard again each morning." -Ann Voskamp

It reminds me to faithfully meet with, pay attention to, and love with my whole big heart my husband, my kids, and my Jesus even when I don't much feel like doing what love requires of me.

I got the free printable from HERE. I ended up changing the colors to suit my color scheme. (I may provide my printable version later... but I feel like I need to ask permission first because I didn't design it, I followed her design and made a few color and font changes.)


I used thrifted frames and chalk-painted them too.
Oh, and see that curtain fabric? MUSTACHE print!!! I didn't think I wanted mustaches in this space (or any space really), but this print just makes me happy, the scale of the print was right for the room, and it seemed retro. My daughter told me that she hates it, but then in the next sentence bursts out laughing,"It's just so silly, Mom. Mustaches are silly!"

I'm taking that as it being successful. Silly. Quirky. Happy. Retro.

And I am still laughing over the fact that I put mustaches in the space.

And sometimes you just need a laugh.

I have a feeling I am going to need to remember this quote from Anne of Green Gables: "Each day starts fresh with no mistakes in it." Marilla says this to Anne after Anne has a "Jonah Day."

I need this reminder often.

I picked this clock up at Hobby Lobby when it was on sale. It just seemed like it was made for my classroom/office.

Most important piece in this space:

Okay. So there you have it... my office, creative space, and homeschool classroom.



I'd love to hear what you think. 
Also, I'd love to hear the quote/scripture you would put in your office and/or classroom to prod you forward. I could use a few more good ones :)



By Grace,

Amanda Conquers