side table redo

 

That solid wood faux paint marble table was at goodwill for $14. Believe me that the marble didn't look so authentic in real life. It was very sponge paint feel.

 

A quick antiqued silver is more up to date and in 10 years someone can roll their eyes at it and do another faux marble look!

 

Fireplace Mantle

A designer once told me that mantles should have only THREE items. If it is a big mantle in needs three large objects.

I googled that.
And I had a very hard time finding enough to inspire me.
There were a few, to be sure, a handful of sophisticated simplicity.
But most were stuffed with an array of well-blended details and textures and objects.

This was the fireplace room when we bought the house:

I did paint the insert black. With the idea in mind that if I really wanted to go back to brass one day, surely it couldn't be too difficult, right? I didn't want to paint the wood mantel though - this seemed too complex to undo. So I built a cheap shelf that just sits right on top. The shelf boards cost under $10 - though I did cut and measure incorrectly and it was an ordeal.

Decorating with random bottles and feathers and plants and ripped up old clothes is the current state of the mantel.

I wanted a rug that didn't have a defined edge to it - since it's a bit of an odd walkway when a square rug defines it. This one was on clearance and even though I preferred the look of the light silky gray ones, this was the one that was around $100 instead of $500. So. Bear it was. And it matches my floor and works just fine - though the gray ones would have been sweet.

Working around life and budget is what Mcquillyn Smith (The Nester) calls a "lovely limitation" and I agree wholeheartedly. My house wouldn't be very original or have much story to it if I had no lovely limitations. One of these is the wicker basket in the corner. Recycling wasn't happening in our family because it was too inconvenient to put items outside. And there was no good area in the kitchen. Under the sink needed emptying too often to be practical and our built in trash can didn't have a second area for recycling. Since it is important to be as a God-follower to fulfill our first command from Him and care for the earth - recycling did need a practical spot. This hamper is now our recycling bin. And that is why my livingroom décor has a big wicker basket in the corner.

These chairs were a trade - and then recovered in a labor of love by my nice mama. They're one of my favorite things about the fireplace room. They have charm and feminine curves and colors and pattern to help balance my manly rug and sofa. Aren't they sweet?

The last area is this little school desk niche that I created against the low wall between kitchen, diningroom and fireplace room. It was a strange space and wasted until I found this little desk for $9 at Salvation Army. The rug had been $11 at Goodwill and the chair $3 at a different thrift store at a different time.

I do love blending in family life - things for my boys, areas that are practical and used - into available space instead of just filling it with stuff for the sake of décor.

Kitchen

The kitchen is a wonderful one.
I'm utterly grateful for it.
I really enjoy the simple design - plenty of room and storage but not overdone or wasted. I love the dishwasher; it cleans so efficiently. I love the windows to see out while doing dishes. I love the size and the ease and convenience. I love the layout - and the layout of the kitchen within the house itself, off to the side but still open.

Some things I don't really like... the individual elements.

It's a very manly kitchen.
And it has little charm.
Great function - but not anything that speaks to me.

The backsplash = stainless steal and cold
The countertop = not a natural stone so it doesn't interest
The cupboards = well made and nice detail but dark, so the whole kitchen feels heavy and dark. I'm not totally against painting good wood... but I am a little against it. I think I'm actually against hard work to do something that's already beautiful. I find the natural wood beautiful but... totally not what I would pick for a kitchen.
The floor = the whole house has this strange, very functional floor that I've come to appreciate but not necessarily what I would choose.
The sink = certainly not a statement piece

The thing with kitchens is this. The beauty must be in the fixtures. Any added décor is simply clutter. So your faucet and sink and cupboards and backsplash and countertops - THOSE are what create everything. No amount of added fillers to the tops of the cupboards or stuff on the walls or rugs on the floor or magnets on the fridge will do anything to change the feel of the room.

I didn't touch the kitchen for a long time.
This is how it was when we bought the house:

I wanted to paint the tiny wall area white (more contemporary than golden yellow) but, this doorway area gets so dirty that white seemed impractical. So I didn't do anything for a while. Then just impulsively grabbed some tan-gray-offwhite that my friend loves. I don't really love it. I still want white. But, it's different. And maybe that satisfies me for now.

Eventually I would like an herb garden in the window.

I try to keep as little clutter as possible - countertops are always busy. I do, however, permit myself to stash my collection of oils and vinegars on top of the fridge. Delicious vinegars make me happy so I allow myself to store them as a collection out in the open, convenient to grab.

My stools I was lucky with.
The old owner was selling her 3 bar stools for $75? each. Maybe she said she'd go down to $50. I didn't like them though and that wasn't my price range. Here they are below - and an idea of our house layout.

I found these on Craigslist.
bonus 1 & 2 - one of our current neighbors was selling them so easy to get and he went down to $20 each for us
bonus 3 & 4 - they happened to match perfectly and be the right size, and they're SUCH GOOD QUALITY. I didn't know that I cared about bar stool quality. But for the constant use, I just love a solid stool.

And even if I can't change all the elements of my kitchen - the little things do add some magic and meaning after all.

My in-laws bought me this heavy iron teapot. I chose the one that was on clearance instead of the one that best suited my taste. Why? I don't know exactly, but because I was really happy with the delight of a heavy iron teapot and I decided the dragons were fun and I don't need everything to be all matchy-styled. Why not appreciate the one that was half price? Maybe that isn't a good call for everything, but sometimes it is fine and this was one of those. And I love it and use it regularly.

I also have a small collection of pottery bowls from a talented friend. When I first go shopping all three bowls are out on the countertop spilling with fruit. Today I'm down to one bowl. But these give a smile to the kitchen as well. I can't pick the sink that makes me feel artistically impressed, but I can choose the bowl that I put out for apples. And it makes me love my kitchen fully.

Bathroom Vanity

My bathroom vanity was chipped and needed touch up paint.

But why do maintenance when you can create something new?

Marriage Epiphany here:

This never ceases to shock our marriage. My husband would blink and say "Why reinvent the wheel? It's not efficient to start over," and I would blink and say, "What? You're spending time to continue as is when for the same effort you could have something new?"

In real life this is how it looks. The closet is a mess. So I empty it, clean it thouroughly and completely rearrange while doing so - same time but adding some interest to the work.

In real life for my husband, the closet is a mess, so he carefully remembers where things are, cleans it out and puts everything away as should be and is glad that no one is confused about where to find the toilet paper or light bulbs.

I have people hollering at me "WHERE DID YOU MOVE THE TOILET PAPER?!" as a result of my creative tendencies.

Aren't people interesting?
But I digress. Because my vanity was dingy and scuffed I did it in a new color. Voila. Much more fun than touch up paint.

 

Not the best quality photos - sorry. But it was about a 15-20 minute project. Touch up would have been 5. But this was a coat of white bonding primer so that I didn't have to sand, followed by a messy rub down of three grays that were squirted on a Styrofoam plate. The end.

Dining Room Again

I'm always working around something - sometimes I wonder what it would be like to create from scratch.

With my previously posted diningroom updates, I worked around the existing chairs that I had. And I bought a bench to match, and thus give me enough seating for my very large table project (Putting farmhouse planks on my existing table legs).

Unfortunately, the bench was wiggled to death by my boys in less than a year.

Conclusion: I do not like cool looking cheaply made furniture.

Action: Sold my chairs for $20 each. Hunted down chairs for $8 each.

Dilemma: I prefer mixing styles. It gives drama, and is currently in style. My exchange student pairs the craziest combinations of shirt, sweater, skirt and shoes, and always looks adorable. I like this look in my house as well - the contrast and drama from items that at one time wouldn't have been paired. However, my light fixture is already a country look. My farmhouse table is also rustic. I would need elegant glam chairs, retro plastic ones, or modern contemporary things equaling 8 chairs, and I had a hard time finding this for under $10 per chair (my goal) and also STURDY and well built. Due to these factors I went with quality over aesthetics and bought some Varagesale Very Country Chairs.

I have a very country diningroom.

The benches were a Craigslist find. For my kids who are bouncing on and off - I'd rather not have them knocking and scraping and pushing chairs every 4 minutes. So benches have been great. These were extra wide which I liked, and extra solid which I liked, and extra tall which confused me. But a friend chopped the legs off to fit at a table. I painted them and embraced the blue upholstery. Funny how I've become so lax on things because overall, the function is important, and next important is scale, and I can usually find a way to like or alter almost anything else but the less work the better these days.

Country is inviting and homey. It says, "Gather, stay, connect, get comfortable, open your heart, give, and love"

 

I don't mind that. I'm always at home with a slight country touch. Maybe it's my childhood memories, or maybe it's that there is something wholesome about the country and this type of decore seems to capture wholesomeness.

Anyway. Country diningroom it is. And we will gather and love and get comfortable here a lot. With friends and family. On solid seating.

Master Bedroom

When my husband expressed a desire for a King size bed (mainly due to weekend mornings when all four boys climb in with us and there is No wiggle room - and laying there for ten more minutes is just as miserable as getting up) and a firmer mattress (we both have some back issues and a hard uninteresting mattress is recommended for that) I listed our queen set on Craiglist, and sold it promptly. I assumed mattress shopping for a basic plain jane cheap firm king wouldn't be too tedious. But since we spend 1/3 of our life on that thing, it's sort of a big deal, and dragging 5 kids with us to mattress shop doesn't make the adventure any faster. But, after a week of makeshift sleeping we had a mattress.

I assumed I would make another fabric headboard, and sold my queensize one on VarageSale. But my husband expressed interest in something heavy and wood and solid - something "viking."

I didn't know what a viking headboard would look like - but it's fun for me to take my husband's input because he rarely expresses household opinions. So I started searching and discovered two things:

1. A lot queen headboards. Beautiful old full size options. Some cute twins. Very few King size in the online resale or thrift stores.

2. If you do find a wood king headboard online, it's ugly and very expensive.

My hubby needed to go to chicago for passport renewals so I took the liberty of looking there. And I found one that fit the bill. Close to where Sylvain would be, solid wood, good price, good name brand (Horchow) and available. I didn't think it would happen but Sylvain strapped it to the van roof and made it through a blizzard for me. (How very nice of him... I don't think he had tender thoughts of his love gift to me while driving though)

My turquoise bedroom had always been a bit bright and I wanted to have a pale gray or white for a fresh, clean, relaxing feeling.

I mixed paint though and thought I had a gray. Gray is neutral, it's okay if it's dark right? Thus I told myself when the colors mixed were not the aforementioned pale.

Well, in addition to dark, the shade turned out more of a drab sage green.
And I can tell you a few things that occasionally pop up in my cooking, house decore, and friendships.

1. As I mixed in green to avoid the pink hue to the gray, I told myself "Go slow, add a bit at a time, stir and check" - and then I was exasperated at myself so for spite I dumped the whole green can in at once. Because when I'm crunched for time I feel less patient with the pressure of doing things properly. In friendships it might be, "trend gently, you don't wear their shoes" and then I just throw that wholesomeness out the window and embrace "just dump - I'm so tired of walking gently through life, this is my friend, surely I can just flop my heavy weight down and let them bare the load of my initial impulse and we'll sort out what is good and true together and let the rest slide"

by the way - not helpful for either paint mixing or friendships.

in cooking its actually not helpful either. Pancakes might more or less be pancakes every time but there is a big difference between the loving intentional - measured - blends and the banged together ingredients.

2. "Well," I patronizingly explained to myself, "That was too much so now you must wait another day, go get a sample paint of pink, and balance out again."

But of course that annoyed me too. So instead I stayed up late into the night painting. And in the dim light told myself that it was gray. And then when the afternoon sun reviled that it was nothing like my original vision I kept painting anyway.I'm stubborn and creative. So when I bump into an issue - like the wrong shade of paint, I change my vision and embrace a new one. This happens with friends and food too - I might have been going for encouraging and it turns into a sorting session. Or I might have been going for a pretty meat dish and it becomes a soup base.

 This is the color that is in a craftsman style house with mission furniture - or a log cabin - and I do not care very much for those styles. But do you know why this sort of color is paired with that? Because it shows off wood very well - it makes the wood very showcased. So. I told myself showing off the wood of the headboard is a useful function for the color. And Kept Painting. TV area got a treatment of things available based on size and shape more than anything else. Scale. If you use scale and proportion the rest doesn't matter much. I learned that from my husband who told me beauty (in a female) is all about proportion - who cares what color the hair etc. A pretty arched eyebrow and not-too-big-nose is more important than if there is blonde or brown hair color.

The lamps I am very pleased with. I had a $20 gift card from the overstock store where we got our mattress. So I used it towards these lamps, which ended up being $10 each since I had a gift card. Just enough bling and function and size, with still a calm simple grown up look.

 

I picked up this end table for $7 at Salvation Army. It's 70s and I thought I'd paint it, but if my wall is a color I don't need to paint the furniture. If I had my white or pale gray wall maybe I would have. So, maybe in the future there will be a blog post titled "finally doing what I should have done the first time" because sometimes something stuck in my mind just wont rest until it has been crossed out. Below is my free yellow couch that I quiet like. My husbands favorite chess set. My bronze trash can that works as a second table as well as holding soiled diapers, and my black throw pillows that I've had since I was in college. I really do like this nook of our bedroom. If a boy comes up at night to sleep with mommy and daddy they get the couch. Or a sick kid can have the couch. It's useful to have in the bedroom. And much cuter than the blank space it was when we bought the home (see below) 

 

My desk I'm also happy with - though I can imagine it white with gold dipped legs. I don't love gold dipped legs but my room needs a feminine touch with all the heavy wall color! Anyway, I got the desk for $15 at a thrift store and I love that there is a back flap made for keeping a mess of cords all tucked together!  so the alarm clock and lamp and computer and printer and phone charger get to all be hidden in the desk section!

Because the room felt a bit masculine I wanted to try wallpaper, but without the price of wallpaper. So I bought a $3 bird stencil. But I'm not good at clean lines with a stencil. So I used it as a guideline and sort of free-handed a wall of birds and branches. I don't know if I love it but at least I got to try it out. And I don't mind it. And it was something I wanted to do.

I had a dresser that we shared that I bought for $30 years ago that we shared. But my goal for this bedroom was a grown-up space. So, I sold it for $160 and bought these two for $160 instead. That way we both had our own dresser. I'm very happy with these two $80 dressers. (Actually it was a bedroom set for $220 but I sold the headboard for $60 so it brought these down to $80 each. They're nicely made and I decided not to paint them either. I'm getting more and more into wood. As long as its not too beat up. But every room needs one painted piece. That ought to be my desk.)   

I'm happy with my dressers, happy enough with my wall, happy with how inviting my bathtub looks. I'd like to style the dressers better eventually but for now, it's a grown up space.

The trick to having a stencil or something painted on the wall is to outline it. Usually I'm a big fan of sharpies but this time I used a pencil.

This is the before photo again - how the room looked when we bought the house

 this is how it looked with my handmade headboard - which I loved the scale and it fit perfectly. Scale makes me very happy.

This is the bedroom now - somewhat more solid and grown-up. I can't say that everything is exactly what I would choose, but I'm very satisfied with how it turned out for what I had to work with. It's a calm, inviting, adult area with a big bed that is viking enough? A few minor finished to come, but, good enough for now.

Journal Entry Christmas 2014

Christmas had bright promise - all seven of us children at home with all the grandkids and a full house... three exchange students (one of my own and two of my moms) and my sister-in-laws sister. 22 People would gather for Christmas dinner and 18 of us would share the home for 10 days. It sounded lovely. Games happening in one room and if you don't want to join in a movie is in another room or others cooking or cleaning in the kitchen to talk with. The home is stuffed full of love and laughter.

December 23rd we gathered around the tree to sing carols. Juyoung carried us with his beautiful voice. His mom had been an opera singer and she had passed on her clear beautiful voice to her sweet boy. On December 24th we had a church service and Juyoung sang - he was a pretty boy with confidence and kindness and he flirted with the audience and charmed us with his charisma, but when he sang, it was to God, in a way that stirred every heart. "He sounds like he is with the angels, bowing a knee to God Himself" my mom whispered.

My exchange girl, Ama, had a bit of a crush on him, especially after that, and she was excited about the Christmas gift she gave him, hoping he'd like it as we opened the piles of presents Christmas day, but too shy to ask.

December 27th Seth, my quiet tall eighteen year old brother, went with Juyoung to a church friends house. My older brother Justin had a butchery happening of 5 of his ducks. A stomach bug had been bouncing around the family and Caleb - my other brother - was helping him pluck ducks but feeling yucky still. Justin had been hit by a drunk driver months before. He still couldn't walk and it had been a long journey for him and my parents. So I volunteered to help. And thus I was dipping ducks in hot water, pulling feathers, waxing, and such unpleasentries.

I was in the kitchen re-heating wax  when my dad burst out of the office and told my mom "There has been an accident - car accident - I have to go"
"No no!" My mother screamed. "I can't hear this again!"

Justin's accident was a terrible one and I knew their hearts were still fragile. "Mom, lets not assume anything until we know more" I told her, trying to calm her. But soon my dad called back with a quick message, "It's bad Cindy. They're using the jaws of life."

The accident was only minutes from the house. Black ice. Seth's small car spun into the other lane in a moment and was hit by a two teen girls who had borrowed grandpa's big four door pick up truck. My dad was back in no time. He screamed in gut-wretching sobs. I've never heard my dad like that. "He didn't make it Cindy. Juyoung is dead!"
It was shock.
Seth was on his way to the hospital. Juyoungs bones were like powder. He had died instantly and my dad saw him before they had a chance to cover him up.
They left.

The phone started ringing.
One woman asked what she could do to help. I gave a wry answer and said "Can you tell me what to do with all these ducks?"
She said, "I've gutted chickens before. I'll come over and do the ducks. It's better than sitting on my butt here."
So she came and we cleaned up the mess and put it all away.

I suppose I felt what everyone feels - Why. How did this happen. What will happen next. My poor parents. His poor parents. Why God. It's so unfair. Poor Seth. And then repeat the thoughts over and over.

My parents were voicing their crazy thoughts on the way to the hospital too. How did it happen. Seth - why couldn't you be more careful!? Then they hit black ice and their van spun into the other lane and into a snowbank and they banged against another vehicle too. The other driver said "You're okay, I'm okay, our vehicles are both a little scratched but lets just go and not make a report out of this" so my dad was back driving again and this time they all knew just how it happened. Maybe God allowed it for a little more empathy towards Seth.

Mom flew in the helicopter with Seth to a bigger hospital. Cat scan was broken at the local one. My dad kept trying to get ahold of the parents in Korea. I told him that the exchange program could break the  news, that it wasn't all on his shoulders, but he couldn't deal with life until he could talk to them. Until that terrible moment to say to someone you've never met, "Thanks for entrusting your son to us this year. Now he is dead."
I ached for my parents.

Justin took everything so personally. Like the burden was his alone to bear. Maybe because he had just been in his own accident and was still physically broken. Maybe because his personality is so responsible driven. But he looked awful.

I answered phone calls. I tried to guess what the memorial service would be like and what would be needed. I tried to be my mother while she was away. I stressed about everything and tried to be calm because everyone in the house was so helpful and lovely that I didn't need to be snappy. My husband was wonderful. But Juyoungs things lay about the house as vivid reminders that he had just been with us. His bright yellow coat begged notice over it's chair.
The phone just ran and ran for the next few days. People brought food. And then Juyoung's parents arrived.

The first day they viewed their sons body. Mrs. Kim is a delicate lady as classy and regal as a queen. But at the casket she was hysterical in grief. Her screams moved her whole body has she jump and shook and wailed for a long while of agony. Her husband tried to keep her from falling, to hold her the best he could. I can only imagine that she, like David, was pouring her heart out to God with all of it's hurt and question and anger. At last she drew in a ragged breath. She knew the Lord. Her husband is a Korean pastor. And she said, "I have peace now." She had let it out and accepted the Lord as Master and was ready to walk forward with faith. That sentence seems wrong because it's so much more complex. But it was what happen. She laid it all on the alter before the Lord and came to the place where she could say as Job, "The Lord gives and takes away - blessed be the name of the Lord."
The next day wanted to see Seth. Justin has spent the night with him, haggard and weary and, like my dad, dreading the moment they would come but not able to deal with life until it happened. They brought Seth flowers and Mrs. Kim put her face to hers. "We don't blame you," she said. "Thank you for being a good brother to my son. And now I have no son. So I want you to be my son. I hope you will come to Korea and visit me."

And Justin broke. He crumpled to the bed weeping.
Seth, half drugged and not remembering a thing about the accident, just nodded. I don't think he knew how to process everything. It may take a long while. But that was the moment that a great burden was lifted for Justin - that moment where Grace was given.That moment where Christianity was raw and real in the purest form. Love washing out any chance of bitterness. Grace outshining any hate. Kindness was the law of her tongue, this virtuous woman.

I set my sisters to work putting his things all together for the parents to go through. And they found a few pages of homework journalism. There weren't many, but the ones he had were intended for this time. I marveled at God arranging those.
He had good things to say about his experience in the USA:

I stay in Brimley 3 weeks. This is my resultabout Brimley. First, host family, I love host family, and brother SethKnepper, he is good teacher to me. Second, school. I like this school. I can’t judge students [yet]. But I think usually good students. I like American school, Brimley High School.
Sometime I ride a bicycle in Brimley with beautiful background. But I waiting Novemberbasketball practice.
Anyway, I like Brimley, so I need more friends, basketball practice, and a goal.

Jooyoung met his hopes of having friends (everyone loved him), and enjoying basketball. But God never gave him a goal. The day before he died, I talked with him about coming to Peoria in April. I asked him if there was anything he wanted to do or see at my house (since it’s a huge city compared to Brimley). And Jooyoung said, “No, I don’t need to do or see anything else. I’m satisfied with everything.” It was as if he knew that his purpose here was complete. In his journal he wrote: I stay in USA, that is my challenge, (to learn English). However, that is just challenge, that is not dream. So everyday I have a inner empty. Just I said, “I’ll be good at English,” [but] there is not a goal. During I writing this journal, I think about my goal. But I can’t solve this question.

Most importantly though was an assignment to write about who changed your life. And he wrote about Jesus. Because God knew that we all would need to read these words.
Before I met Lord Jesus I’m just a student. Everyday I just eat, play, study, and sleep. I’m worried about everyday. Because rising sun is mean coming out Death. So when I thought about death I got scary. And I don’t know about I live for what. During the evening I play with my friends and got a happy, but on the night I got a profound thought (about death). But after met Lord Jesus everything is changed.
Every morning I meet the new future. And don’t worry about death, but not at all. Thank you for giving me a lot -sunshine, family, friends, food, and my life. If Jesus didn’t gave life to me, I can’t know my family and another people, that is most thank you for Jesus.
God even let him leave a goodbye:
I like basketball because when I play the basketball feel like in the heaven.
I like stay in Brimley. There’s fresh air, ground, and good people. Family and friends is important in my life. Thank you for my friends, because they give me good power.

The night after his death a woman who stopped by the house with a card for Seth and said that her estranged daughter was far from the Lord and had witnessed the car accident. The daughter knew Seth and was so shook up that she called up her mom. The woman (mom) hugged me and said, "I'm going over there right now. She said I could pray with her! It is so terrible what has happened - but I'm so grateful that God used it to soften my daughters heart and I will hope that He will do so many other works through this difficult time."

When I read the journal excerpts to my mother, Ama (my exchange student) was there, and when I finished she said, "For the first time I understand who Jesus is"

The memorial service took place at the High School.
Some ladies who occasionally buy goat milk from my mom took it upon themselves to arrange food. They read Korean custom of fruit and asked for donations and created a beautiful arrangement. The center table was had a long rustic box overflowing with flowers and then fruit arranged elegantly and full - enough fruit to feed a city it seemed - so fresh and classy.
There were evergreens at each table, and clothes, to transform a school cafeteria into something beautiful with a tone of the sacred.
The basket ball team gathered off to the side of the throng of people. I think the coach gave them a run-through of how he expected them to handle themselves at this time, that they would each give the parents condolences, with manners and decorum. That basketball team was shaking. They were passing around a ball to sign for him. For the rest of their games they would have an empty chair set out for him with his shirt sitting there.

My mother is good at letting people get involved however they would like to volunteer - appreciating and cultivating community like that. When someone offered to do a photo board, though she could have had someone in our family do it or done it herself, she accepted graciously. It's not about controlling things to ensure that it's done according to certain standards. It's about including. And trusting that each person will offer their own unique abilities. And everything turned out beautifully.
We stayed up into the night making wreaths - a korean custom instead of flower bouquets - and by making "fake" wreaths the family could take one home and the church could have a memory. They turned out pretty, and were on either side of the coffin.

When Juyoung's parents saw the picture board, the mom couldn't go any farther and was uncontrollable in her grief. It shook everyone to their core to hear her wails, and she went to the coffin.

I left to feed my baby, a good excuse because I simply didn't know what to do for those broken hearts. When I returned I was told that the school counselor and my family could not coax Ama (my exchange student) out of a locked bathroom stall. So I went in and saw that she was leaning against the door and I slid under the side of the stall to join her.
She was a too shocked to remember her fixed position on blocking everyone out. "Mother!" she told me, "Don't you know this is a public toilet with a disgusting floor?" To which I replied, "Yes, and aren't you ashamed of yourself for making your mother crawl on this disgusting floor? Now, what is the problem?"
She crumpled. "I think I can't control myself and I will cry and hold him his spirit back."
"Oh. Well. That must be a Mongolian tradition. In Korea they used to hire people to cry for funerals. Crying is very acceptable here. It shows that you care. Everyone will cry. So come on, lets go."
She blinked. "Really?"
I took her hand, "Really. Will you please open the door for me so I don't have to crawl on the gross floor again?"

So we joined the gathering - the bleachers were packed and the police officers and others were standing. We had chairs in the family section. I had brought Tristan and watched as he saw the Mrs. Kim crying softly and took a kleenex box over to her. She said a kind thank you to him and my heart ached to watch my sweet son while knowing her sweet son was no more.
My brother Caleb had been playing video clips before the service started and she kept asking for the one of him in the very gym where she now sat, where he proudly gave a tour of his beloved basketball court.

My father offered a beautiful service - reminding us all that Juyoung had found his identity in Christ, and had accepted the love of Christ and thus was able to give the love of Christ to those he came into contact with. Lastly, he had a hope, a blessed hope that made him unafraid of death, and that we too could know this hope and peace through Christ and that this hope is what makes us able to go on with life in confidence instead of despair.

There was a slideshow and a church group sang "Oh Holy Night" in memory of his last song. I played and realized that my mother could have done it despite not having time to practice with the group but that probably it was her way of letting me do what I could offer because she is good at that - inviting others to express themselves and do something in their own moments of hurting.
A high school native american girl sang "Amazing Grace" with a voice that amazed us all. She should be on TV instead of a tiny town in the bleak winter wilderness. She told my mom, "Thank you for asking me to sing for him, for this; I have never been so honored in my life."
And Mrs. Kim read this letter to her son,

Dear Juyoung, my beloved son:
The day you were departing to America, you chose to shake my hand instead of giving me a hug, for concern that I might cry. My thoughtful son.
Today, I'm following the same path you walked on. With a broken heart, I walked down the path which you walked with such excitement and hopeful dreams. Holding hands with your dad on the plane, we looked out of the window, and saw the beautiful clouds. While I was thought about where would you would be, you smiled for us from afar.

Because of you, a tacky mother like myself can now see the school you attended, the house you lived in, all of your friends, and everything that I was curious about your life here.
Yesterday, your dad and I recalled the memories of your childhood, They were all such precious memories. A 2 year old Juyoung who tucked his sister into her baby blanket when she was born, A 5 year old Juyoung who danced when music played on the streets, a 9 year old Juyoung who served breads, fruits, and drinks on a cute dish for his grandmother's friends, an 11 year old Juyoung who felt sympathy and compassion for a physically disabled man passing by on the street,  a 15 year old Juyoung who, with sweat pouring down, ran back to the house to bring a drink for a friend who forgot his lunch, an 18 year old Juyoung who was concerned about mom for spending too much money on phone bills while talking to him long distance on the phone a few days ago. You always comforted your mom with warm words. Thinking about you, my tearful eyes shortly turns into a smile. Our hearts became peaceful because we saw you in God's arm. However, I want to see you so much that my heart is torn apart. You were my source of pride, an awesome son by anyone's standards. Everybody was jealous of me. A happy mother now turned into a tragic woman.

A promise of cooking japchae for me when you come home, recipes you cooked for the first time in America. A promise of giving me a birthday present you bought and kept until the day you come home. A promise of giving me 2,000 dollars as a living expense when you start your own business in the future. You left without keeping any of these promises. What a horrible person you are.
For it would have been so much harder if you left while I was with you, you let me practice living without you for four months.
After spending the happiest moments here out of the 18 years of your life, you have gone to a place where of eternal happiness.
Thank you the family who fed him warm meals everyday and took care our Juyoung like your own son.
Thank you to the teachers who introduced him a new world.
Thank you to the friends for your kindness and making many wonderful memories for Juyoung.
I do not blame anyone. I do not blame myself. Because this is not the fault of anyone. I only profess that everything is in God's providence.
Juyoung, I will see you soon. When God calls for me, I will run to you with excitement.
I love you, I love you so much.
This letter was a tear jerker.
Afterwards they came to our house, the mother and father and sister, the interpreter and the exhcange student president and her daughter. I nursed my baby and mused at how it all happened. They were supposed to come the day before and I had ensured that the house was clean and a good meal was made and worked hard to arrange every detail, including that we would all clear out and sit our butts at the church to let the parents have a quiet meal with just Juyoungs immediate family and not have any craziness happening everywhere in their greif. But instead they had too long of a day at the hospital with Seth and postponed. And then came unexpectedly after the service. And there were 26 of us in the house. And yes chaos. And the food was mainly leftovers reheated. And nothing that I had carefully planned. Yet so much better.

Mrs. Kim sang in her beautiful opera voice for us. She glowed like a queen and gave such sweetness in every soft movement. She was treasuring this time, finding the good and beautiful in everything, and smiling to think of her son living in this home with this family. The father was noble. Wise. Understanding. Generous. Watching his wife to make sure she was alright.
The interpreter was a woman who was expressive and talkative and went about saying, "This is just amazing. I've never been anywhere like this. Why you can just FEEL the family in this house. It's so great." She looked at my husband, "Do you know how lucky you are to have married into this family?" she demanded. He made a sweet response. Minutes later I heard her asking the same question to my sister in law. She was marveling the whole night.

Carissa reminded me to calm down (gentle words but her big eyes that spoke disapproval strongly!), and "let it go" as the Frozen cliche says. And so I did. I relaxed. And saw the glowing home full of family with grateful eyes. It was a beautiful place to be. My parents talking so freely with his parents, despite a language barrier, this connection of a common Lord, a shared hope, and love for a boy who was no longer there. Abby has a gift of scooping up uncertain persons and making them feel welcome and secure. So she had Juyoungs sister as a bestie by the end of the evening.
The sister had her parents demeanor of royalty. She was sweet and elequent without bitterness and simply said, "I think the Lord heard Juyoung singing and said, that was good, I think I'll have him by my side to sing for me for eternity."

They're all wonderful. My brothers and sisters and Tamara and her Yessica (sister in law and her amazing sister) and my parents... and the community there was so touching as well. And Mr. and Mrs. Kim - what examples of Christ flowing through you even at the most difficult times.
They donated all the monetary gifts to the teens at the Brimley church.
They left their cash with my parents to pay for a dance class for an exchange student whose parents were not sending any spending money due to financial difficulty.
They left all of Juyoungs things to be given out to family and friends as a way to remember him by. Natalie wrapped up in his handsome yellow coat remembering the cold day where she had gone without one and he had, like a gentleman, removed his own to lend it to her.

They hugged my parents and invited them to visit in Korea and expressed a desire to come back and visit again.
They spoke kindly to me about how God could use even this disaster for good.
They were thoughtful and generous - oh so giving - at a time when most would curl up and shut everyone out.
Ama summed it up like this: "I know who Jesus is now. I saw Him this Christmas."

And, despite the circumstances, she said "It was a wonderful Christmas and I wish I could go again to Brimley for Christmastime"
And when I asked my mom how she was doing she smile and said, "Is it strange if I say I'm great?"
That was the thing. I've never beheld such extremes of pain and grace. My sister's baby died earlier this year and that funeral had it too - hurt and hope. But this time, with strangers included, the weight of God's grace was so thick that you could feel it and know it in ways that we are missing most of our lives. And it will go on. My parents will invest in the basket ball team, the teen girl driving her grandpa's pick up truck, the other local exchange students, and many other lives who were affected.

I marvel at this Christmas and treasure it in spite of the deep ache that I know will go on in the hearts of his family. Because I know they will love and live fully and that Juyoung will smile from heaven with the pride of his heavenly Father.