Theme Week 6 - My Room

My bed is large; it was not bought for me.  The worn blanket that covers it is blue with decorative embroidery.  It reminds me of a medieval tapestry in a way, I really do like it.  I use two pillows but there are twelve on the bed.  The corner at the end of the bed is where I kneel.     

There is a double bookshelf built against the wall – painted the color of the walls so as not to stand out.  But this bookshelf is the thing that stands out the most to me.  It holds so many memories, so many gifts from people I never want to forget, so many people and places that have shaped me, so many pieces of my heart.  

Next to my bed, across the room from the bookshelf, sits my black bed stand.  It has an open front, and there I keep my books.  Stacked from bottom to top: my study Bible, a couple of novels I’ve been meaning to read, and an unopened book that I promised to finish before Christmas.  On top of the heavy wooden stand there is a rebellious alarm clock, a black lamp, stacks of papers, and more books.  The books?  My journal, my devotions-Bible, my current novel (The Phantom of the Opera), one of my old journals, and the Fellowship of the Ring (for no other reason than it’s a good book to have at a hand’s reach at all times).  There’s also a candle on my bed stand, an Apple Cider Yankee Candle.  I light that candle when I write, the smell reminds me to concentrate.  It’s at that candle that I light matches and watch to see how close they can burn to my fingers without burning my skin.  

Against the wall is my mini roll-top desk.  If I opened it then I would see a mess of papers and books, covering a mess of a desk-top, spattered with pain that didn’t make it on the canvas.  I rarely open the desk.  The mess makes me anxious – knowing that I should clean it.  I don’t like working at that desk, it’s too enclosed and I can’t write in a place where I can’t breathe.  On top of my desk there is a wilty plant that I’ve been ignoring for a month and a half a dozen books – stacked neatly. 

My older sister’s desk is also in my room.  We used to share a room before college interrupted our companionship.  Sometimes I wonder if that desk will ever be the same.  I mean, she’s been gone a long time and she’s had lots of new desks.  Maybe her old desk will be too foreign for her when she comes back.  She’s changed a lot I’m sure, and maybe this old desk just won’t cut it anymore.

There is also a closet door in my room that stays shut as often as I can manage it.

I have two windows in my room.  One faces the mountains and I love it.  The rustic view makes me feel rich.  The top pane has a long crack stretching from one side to the other – I shut it too hard one day.  They are old windows though, and accidents happen.  The other window faces the barn, and it sits over the head of my bed, letting the draft in.  I love to look up and watch the stars on nights when I can’t sleep.  It reminds me of the beauty that truly does fill this world, and of the beauty beyond this world that was created for His eyes only.  It reminds me of how small I am, and what a miracle it is that someone as small and insignificant as I am can love and be loved, hate and be hated, feel and think, learn and grow.