I have an odd habit. When my house gets to that point where every corner offends my desire for order and echoes the noise of the household squabbles and shrieks, I go and pick flowers for the table.
To me, the table is the heart of my home. It’s where we gather for meals, art projects, occasional read-alouds over tea, serious family talks, reading the mail or responding to letters and examining the latest collection of mosquito bites that need attention. So, when I need to reestablish my sense of home, I clear the table and dress it with flowers. Then, I feel like my conciliatory efforts can expand outwards from there like the tide, sweeping over the rough places in the sand and smoothing it again for new footprints and shell finds.
Sometimes, it is tempting as a wife and mother to approach problems first with knowledge – diving headfirst into research to solve a nagging problem or confronting a child with a verbal prescription for instant change.
Other times, I try to lead with service when I feel depleted and tired. I will shove my resentment into the dark corners where it likes to lurk, and I will attack the nearest pile of flotsam from the children with the energy of a hurricane. My hyperactivity fueled by nothing but desperation rarely wins me any willing helpers in my tasks.
I’m reminded time and time again during more stressful seasons in our family life that things go best when I lead with beauty, then follow that with knowledge and charitable service. The momentary connection with beauty doesn’t need to be long. A step outside for a breath of fresh air, an aromatic cup of coffee, a quick jog, a five-minute plunge into a book, a few minutes spent with a compelling piece of art, a change of clothes (at least out of lounge wear), a moment to brush unruly toddler hair or a fresh arrangement on a cleared table – these all can recenter your peace and connect you with a deeper sense of self and purpose before you go about your other tasks.
Ultimately, seeking beauty with mindfulness is a way of seeking God. He made the world beautiful to help us remember His larger plan for each ripple of our day and each swell of history. We are invited to tend His garden and to be co-creators with Him in our families and our communities. Our small initiatives to recapture this identity in Him open us to the stream of grace that He promises to those who invite Him into their daily “prayers, works, joys and sufferings,” as we pray in the Morning Offering.
The liturgy of the Mass invites us into this same pattern. God first wins our hearts with the beauty and stillness of the church, the music and the opening prayers. Now, our hearts are ready for knowledge of Him, the source and end of this beauty, in the Liturgy of the Word. Our response is a gift of self in the offertory – our best gift is to return to Him in gratitude all that He has given us.
The cycle continues through the Liturgy of the Eucharist – beauty in the story of salvation history leading to the coming of the Messiah, knowledge in the Words that promise His very self as a gift, and love as we give and receive in the Eucharistic feast.
The seasons are changing, and a sort of animal dread of winter touches our hearts with trepidation as we face the additional tumult of school year schedules, elections, approaching flu season and societal unrest. We may have many moments when we need to stop, regroup and start again in faith and fortitude.
Start with beauty. Our families need beauty like they need food and sleep and clean jeans to wear. You’ll find that attentiveness to beauty will form within you a sensitivity to the ripples of live-giving water God sends to nourish our souls throughout the day. Couldn’t the world use something beautiful right now?
Kelly Henson is a Catholic writer and speaker who explores the art of integrating faith into daily life. She and her family are parishioners of Our Lady of Grace Parish in Greensboro. She blogs at www.kellyjhenson.com
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