Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

Archives for June 2011

Readers are Leaders

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Years ago I worked for a company called “Readers are Leaders” a program that taught reading to the very young. I only worked for them briefly but Paul and I have laughed about the name ever since.
The other day I tried to get Eden to join the summer reading club at the library. I explained how it worked: sign up, record all the books you read throughout the summer (on the list they helpfully provide), turn it in and get a prize.
Eden wasn’t interested. “What’s the point? I don’t need a prize for reading a book. The story’s the prize.”
Indeed.
She might look like Paul’s miniature, pig-tailed clone, but that’s my girl.

One of Job’s Comforters Was Right

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“Give in to God, come to terms with him 


and everything will turn out just fine.


Let him tell you what to do; 


take his words to heart.


Come back to God Almighty 


and he’ll rebuild your life.


Clean house of everything evil. 


Relax your grip on your money 


and abandon your gold-plated luxury.


God Almighty will be your treasure, 


more wealth than you can imagine.”

Job 22: 21 – 25 from The Message


This year has been one long haul of abandonment to God’s provision in every way and on every level. Paul and I have been stretched beyond ourselves in so many ways. As I stood and watched my house burn I thought “I can take this.” I was talking about the loss. And I was right. With the exception of my kids’ art, some journals, a few paintings and some books, I haven’t missed a thing and never looked back. If not for my children and trying to salvage things that were evocative of home I would have gladly walked away and never given most things a second thought.

What I could not understand as I watched the flames destroy all our possessions was that the rebuilding was where it would all come into play: all my beliefs, fears, trust, faith, doubt and strength.

The Bible compares life to a race that we are running. Watching my house burn, losing my possessions was like being dropped into a 5K. If we are speaking metaphorically I knew I could run that race and at the sound of the gun I started running. “This doesn’t hurt. I can take this.” I told myself. In a way I had already trained for that. Losing every thing? No problem.

What became difficult was as the months passed and the 5K became a marathon and then it turned into an Iron Man and then it was more like the Olympics and Paul and I were signed up for several simultaneous events. Making every single financial decision from how big of a house to build down to what type of spatula to buy while under mental and emotional duress has been so challenging. Making every single decision while waiting for insurance to come through and not really knowing how much every thing is going to cost has been excruciating. A rebuild is not a build; things have to be torn down.

God has been showing me the rickety structures that I have used for shelter: being fiscally prudent, careful, living within our means – all good practices, but God is a jealous God and he won’t let us settle for less than abandonment to him and his provision. I think I want grace but it seems risky, it involves too much trust. So I see now.

I have also been learning a lot about how we choose or refuse to comfort each other. It is uncomfortable to just be with someone. Our urge is to fix, to remove obstructions, to placate. But somethings cannot be fixed or removed or placated, they must be born, endured.

A true friend is one who will be with you in the uncertainty, who will sit with you in the mystery of and the suffering itself.

If someone glides in and blithely says “You’re going to be fine” we reject that. But isn’t that what we really want to know? Am I going to be alright? Is everything going to be OK?

We don’t need bland assurance – we see right through that – what we need is someone who has been through the fire and who can tell us everything is going to turn out just fine.


What we have

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A few years ago we spent a week in a cottage on Lake Michigan. It was such a relaxing vacation. It was October but mild so we still spent a lot of time on the beach, playing with Jack and then we cooked together and played games or read books. Every night I tidied things up before bed. That little cottage was so easy to keep clean. I took note and realized that what I can handle in home keeping is furniture, kitchen supplies, books and clothes and spent the next year and a half trying to divest our home of everything else. The six months before the fire I went room by room reorganizing and de-cluttering. I got rid of so much stuff. For months one stall of the garage was dedicated to Goodwill and the other was trash. Paul dutifully hauled it away one carload, one trash night at a time.
We lost almost everything in the fire. When we moved into our rental house, insurance provided a minimum of belongings to get us through: a couch and chairs, tables, lamps, beds, linens and kitchen supplies. We requested a couple bookcases and a desk since we began to rebuild our library from the first day.
With the exception of books, clothes and a few chairs we haven’t really replaced anything. From the beginning I felt a real reluctance to buy and then, as insurance dragged and dragged and dragged its heels, it became a necessity to wait.
I told myself, “It’s not a problem. We’ll move in get the feel for the place and take our time. We’ve lived this long with the bare minimum, we’ll be fine.”
And then I remembered that the rented pieces would be returned and as thrilling as minimalism is it’s no fun sitting on the floor and I don’t want to try cutting meat with a measuring spoon so I began to think about what we have and what we really need.
We have:
  • 4 barstools (a kind stranger generously donated when we moved into the rental)
  • 7 Thonet bentwood chairs (four my mom gave us and three I picked up over the year)
  • 1 antique wicker rocking chair (my first big purchase since the fire)
  • 1 bed (Paul and replaced ours first thing)
  • 2 seven by four foot bookcases
  • 4 lamps (need shades)
  • 1 night stand
  • 1 desk (on loan from my brother-in-law)
  • 1 dining table (it’s actually a long, harvest looking table from my mother’s elementary school. It was used as as sofa table in my home growing up and will look great but won’t work long term as the apron is lower than is comfortable for dining)
  • numerous plates and bowls (I replaced some jadeite and hit the jackpot with Buffalo china)
  • 1 filing cabinet
  • 1 13 x 9 inch pan
  • various glass food storage containers and lids
  • 1 XL stockpot
  • 1 sauce pan
  • 1 XL metal bowl
  • measuring spoons
  • 1 serrated bread knife
  • 2 large cutting boards
  • 2 muffin pans
  • 1 baking rack
  • 2 spatulas
  • oven mitts
  • kitchen towels and washcloths
  • flatware
  • glasses
  • goblets
  • 1 can opener
  • 2 wine openers (gifts from concerned friends, bless them! We’ve actually had three as the rental company provided one too)
  • 1 coffeemaker
  • 1 toaster (that seems such a small word for what this is…will be blogging later)
  • 2 king sets of sheets
  • 7 pillows
  • 3 bath towels
  • 5 beach towels
  • 3 quilts
  • 1 down duvet and cover
  • 1 large blanket
  • 2 wool throws
And then a friend has promised the loan of two leather club chairs.
I think that’s it.
Here’s what I recognize we need to buy:
  • knives (I can get by with a 8″ chef’s and small paring & plan to replace our Wusthof)
  • 1 large skillet
  • 1 dutch oven
  • a coffee grinder
  • a pancake turner
  • long plastic spoon
  • large ladle
  • whisk
  • measuring spoons
  • gas grill
  • sheets (twin and queen)
  • bath towels, hand towels and washcloths
  • shower curtains
  • 4 end tables or night stands
  • beds: 2 twin, 1 queen
  • lamps
Am I missing something obvious?
Are you amazed by how little and yet how much it all is?
The picture above is of a couple of drawers in my kitchen after the great purge. The one on the right was my “junk drawer” replacing three others that functioned as such.