Tiptoe......................peeking through the gate


Why Eve on Tiptoe?


      Lucy Pevensie (of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe fame) once pushed through furs in a wardrobe to hide, only to find herself crunching through snow in a magical land called Narnia. In this wondrous place, all of creation was working backward from a curse to re-enter the garden. My husband and I recently waded through waist-high weeds with a realtor to reach the back porch of an outwardly bedraggled Carolina farmhouse, then stumbled, Lucy-like, into a Victorian beauty that wrapped its welcoming arms around us.  This is our new home, and these pages will be written at a desk overlooking cotton fields in the countryside where we, too, long to work back from the curse and encounter the garden.

      I hope to share this unfolding story with you, my readers. Our last child is off to college, and guests are coming soon. We will fold clean linens over the beds; place daisies on dressers; and fix bright, healthful meals. In between guests,  we'll visit Main Street and make new friends in our small town. At home, I will read, pray and write; cook, play my harp and tend the kitchen garden. The evening's entertainment will almost always be dinners with my husband, Ross (no true names here!) and any guests we are harboring. A predictable, gracious and peaceful end to the day.

      I am Eve. That is not my given name, but it fits. Eve is my mother, if you run my ancestry back to the beginning, and she set the course for my life long ago. A stunning beauty, she lived in the first garden on earth, filled with tame animals and brilliant flowers. Sadly, she lost her place there and could never return, though she yearned for it until the day she died. Since before I could speak or even crawl, I have been longing for the garden she left. Hints of it brought wonder to my baby soul...a lozenge of sunshine resting on the floor, magnolia petals scattered on the lawn, storybook angels dressed in aqua and pink.

     Someday, we will re-enter the garden our mother (and father) left, and all will be healed. In the meantime, we watch and wait expectantly with lights burning, on tiptoe, looking for the lovely works of God now and eager for the glorious return of our Aslan.

     So, welcome to EveOnTiptoe and the life in and around our 1890 farmhouse. We call our home Eden's Gate. You understand why. May you find a bit of the garden here--refreshment, beauty and pleasure--as our farmhouse wraps its arms around you!

         Here's what's inside:

         In Southern Hospitality, you might join Ross and me at a dinner with friends,
               watch a decorating project in process
               or pick up a recipe

        Spiritual Musings often occur in connection with my daily scripture readings combined with
         real-life application through gentle thumps on the head.
         Warning: If you don't mind collateral damage, join me here.

        Children (and adults alike) may enjoy stories about our farmhouse or the critters on our property in Country Living.

        Healing Harp is music from my hands meant to refresh your soul. In the future, it may include scripture
         or other devotional readings woven into the music. 

         Hungry for local adventure? Follow me around in Small Town.

         Interested in a bigger trip? Go to Wandering.

         Books could be old or new, but I'll cover only the ones I find compelling.        

        My Diary is my blog (don't like that name!), where I plan to fill you in each week on life in our farmhouse. All the categories will merge at times in there. Please look for my weekly updates on Monday mornings. I will not use our real names in these pages, mostly for our children's sake. They will go by Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy, since we had two boys and two girls in the same order, and our four roughly mirror the birth-order tendencies of the famous Pevensies of Narnia. (Note: Our Edmund, while a mischief-maker in earlier life, has grown into a very kind, disciplined and thoughtful adult.) As I said, my good husband is Ross, and in this diary, I am Eve. So, let's tiptoe in to: