The Nesting Place: It Doesn't Have to Be Perfect to Be Beautiful

In her book The Reluctant Entertainer, Sandy Coughlin writes, “Excellence is working toward an attainable goal that benefits everyone, while perfection comes from a place of great need — usually the need to avoid criticism and gain praise and approval from others.

Everyone gets to decide how happy they want to be, because everyone gets to decide how grateful they are willing to be. — ANN VOSKAMP

I’ve finally figured out that almost no one is living in their dream house. And I don’t know anyone whose life has gone exactly like they would have planned. You make the best choices you can at the time with the information you have, and then you deal with the consequences, and that’s the part where your life happens.

IN ORDER to be irreplaceable one must always be different.” —Coco Chanel

Is your home just another place of unmet expectations, to-do lists, and exhaustion? Or is your home a haven, the safest place on earth, a place to come back to, a place to heal, a place to create, a place to risk and simply be? You get to decide.

We like to tell ourselves that we are insisting on perfection for the betterment of those around us. But really, insisting on perfection is a self-centered act.

Homes are happiest when they are being used. Sofas are meant to be sat on, chairs are made to be pulled around when needed, favorite items are meant to be displayed.

The dangers of life are infinite, and among them is safety. — GOETHE

Most of us simply need to learn to see the beauty in the imperfect. Because life is gloriously messy. We can find rest in our less than perfect circumstances when we figure out that no amount of striving can create the perfect life we think we are looking for. True rest comes when we realize that we can’t get it from trying extra hard. We find rest when we give up.

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. EPICURUS

Instead of seeing imperfections as thorns in my decorating flesh, I want to open my eyes and see them as signs of life. These messes all stem from gifts in my life. I still clean the mud off shoes (or make my boys do it), but I also know that if a neighbor walked in and saw a trail of mud, I wouldn’t need to be embarrassed. It’s just proof of lives being lived, and houses are for living. My home is a reflection of our life, and life’s messes can be gloriously beautiful.

Don’t apologize for what you have. It makes guests feel uncomfortable, it encourages discontentment, and if you’re married and your husband hears you apologizing for what he’s provided, it could be hurtful.

But that day, I realized that when I apologize for my home, I’m declaring to all within earshot that I’m not content. That I’m silently keeping score. That I put great importance on the appearance of my home and maybe, just maybe, I’m doing that when I visit your home too.

When I walk into a house, my eyes immediately dart around hoping to find something imperfect so that I can know this is a house where I can be real.

You can learn tips and tricks to help keep your home more put-together and beautiful. Or you can accept the fact that your home will be imperfect and that each season of your family’s life will bring different kinds of beautiful messes.

I don’t open my home because it’s finally done and presentable. I share it for the same reason I wear a bikini to the pool. It’s not because I think I look great in it. It’s because I’m finally okay that I don’t. It’s the same with our home. I don’t share it because it’s perfect; I share it because I’m finally okay that it’s not.

That is how it is with your home. The imperfections play an important role: they put people at ease.

I had braced myself for shock and sadness and guilt and hopelessness over Topiwo’s house. I knew his family had struggled to survive through drought until Compassion stepped in to help. But after visiting that beautiful dirt home, I didn’t feel sad about where Topiwo lives. Unlike most of the homes we had visited, Topiwo’s home was rich with love and community and joy and gracefulness. Richer than a lot of homes I see in our country. Rich with the contentment I want to have. It was, in a word, breathtaking. I had been welcomed into a true home. Topiwo knew. He knew what I so easily forget.

We can find rest in our less than perfect circumstances when we figure out that no amount of striving can create the perfect life we think we are looking for. True rest comes when we realize that we can’t get it from trying extra hard. We find rest when we give up.

By allowing myself to add quirk, I was announcing to the world that — guess what? — I now have the confidence to put something in my home even though I know someone will think it’s ridiculous. Once you experince that kind of freedom in decorating, you’ll never go back, and your house will finally look the way you’ve always dreamed.

As women, we ache to believe that real beauty can be found in the midst of imperfection. We are crying out for permission to lower our standards. Let yourself know: permission granted.

The real question isn’t whether it’s right or wrong for me to live in a “big” house. The real question is, What am I doing with what I’ve been given?

The Art of Risk We don’t risk because it’s easy; we risk because of hope, because we see the promise of something better.

and realize that as long as we all choose to walk around clothed, the laundry will never really be finished.

The moral of the story: you can't ruin something that you don't like, especially if it doesn't have much value to begin with.

Quieting a room is one of my favorite things to do.

The Nail Hole Diaries I didn't realize... how terrified some women are of devaluing their homes by making a nail hole in the wall. Part of me wants to scream, "It's a ding-a-ling nail hole in the wall! Is there anything in life less risky that creating a one-millimeter hole in a wall that can be filled with your finger and some putty in two seconds?" A nail hole is the easiest repair.

I once heard someone say, "There's no such thing as a chandelier that's too big for a room." I'm not sure I completely agree with that, but I admit I've yet to see a chandelier too big for a room.

Natural light is a free gift from God. Don't waste it.