Sally Clarkson - The Lifegiving Collection: The Lifegiving Home / The Lifegiving Table / The Lifegiving Parent

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The Lifegiving Collection: The Lifegiving Home, The Lifegiving Table, The Lifegiving Parent

The Lifegiving Home copyright 2016 by Sally Clarkson and Sarah Clarkson; all rights reserved. The Lifegiving Table copyright 2017 by Sally Clarkson; all rights reserved. The Lifegiving Parent copyright 2018 by Clay Clarkson and Sally Clarkson; all rights reserved. The 24 Family Ways copyright 2012 by Clay Clarkson; all rights reserved.

Cover photograph of wood copyright Michael Mroczek/Unsplash.com; all rights reserved. The Lifegiving Home cover photograph of bread copyright Barbara Dudziska; of teacup copyright Sandra Vuckovic Pagaimo; all rights reserved. The Lifegiving Table cover photograph of table copyright Maskot/Getty Images; all rights reserved. The Lifegiving Parent cover photograph of father and child copyright Hero Images/Getty Images; of linen texture copyright Miroslav Boskov/Getty Images; all rights reserved.

The Lifegiving Home cover designed by Joy A. Miller | FiveJsDesign.com; interior designed by Nicole Grimes. The Lifegiving Table designed by Mark Anthony Lane II. The Lifegiving Parent designed by Julie Chen. The Lifegiving Table edited by Anne Christian Buchanan

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations in The Lifegiving Home and The Lifegiving Parent are taken from the New American Standard Bible, copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations in The Lifegiving Table are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked ESV are taken from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version (ESV), copyright 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version.

Scripture quotations marked NASB are taken from the New American Standard Bible, copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Scripture quotations marked NET are used by permission and taken from the NET Bible, copyright 19962006 by Biblical Studies Press, L.L.C., http://netbible.com. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version, copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

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ISBN 978-1-4964-4054-9 (Kindle)

ISBN 978-1-4964-4055-6 (ePub)

ISBN 978-1-4964-4056-3 (Apple)

Build: 2021-04-21 15:53:34 EPUB 3.0

In honor of the Girls Club

Unless the L ORD builds the house,

They labor in vain who build it.

PSALM 127:1

Many thanks to our wonderful Tyndale team; our editor, Anne Christian Buchanan; Joel Clarkson; and all our precious friends and comrades who gave love, encouragement, and prayers and helped us through the writing and ideas of this book. We are so very happy to be able to give you a book of our dreams and couldnt have done it without these wonderful people as a part of our team.

Most of all, we are so very grateful to Clay Clarkson, Sarahs dad and Sallys adventure companion for thirty-four years of marriage. You have dreamed, collaborated, cultivated, and worked so diligently to give our home a story worth telling. We are deeply thankful God gave you to us.

T HE ADVENTURE STARTED ON A WHIM. With a suitcase in my left hand, a laptop case and tote on my shoulder, and the luggage cart dragging behind me, I stumbled against the door of suite 209 and pushed it open with my shoulder. The cart lurched over the doorstep, propelling me farther into the room as I grabbed for the door, laughing at my decidedly ungraceful movements. With one toe balancing the cart and my finger just on the doorknob, I held the door open for Sarah, my nineteen-year-old daughter, who was lugging the laundry basket of extras we had thrown in for our week of retreatelectric teakettle, printer, candles, chocolateall the necessities!

When she was safely inside, I gratefully dropped a few bags on the couch and breathed a sigh of deep relief. We were finally, blessedly here. After several months of planning, several more months of crazy living, and a four-hour drive through a mountain pass, we had finally arrived.

We had come here to Asheville, North Carolina, to write a book together. With my husband, Clay, busy with his own project, Joy, my youngest, off to a favorite aunties house, and my two teenage sons away at camp, Sarah and I had decided to escape for a rare writing getaway. We were excited about this week of girl time and writing time in our favorite town.

Asheville, as I describe in the next chapter, is nestled in the arms of the Blue Ridge Mountains and has an air of mountain coolness that we absolutely love. Though it is famous for the incredibly beautiful Biltmore Estate nearby, it is also graced with dozens of lovely little shops, delightful cafs, and an excellent tearoomjust the places we would want to go in our moments of relaxation in between long hours of writing. Instead of holing up in the usual small motel room, we had even splurged and booked a suite complete with kitchen and a living room at a well-known hotel chain. We wanted everything to be beautiful and cozy as we sequestered ourselves away to do our work.

But now, as we stood in our suite with all our excited expectations chattering in our minds, we peered around, searching for the expected coziness. We had yet to see any sign of it.

First of all, as we approached the registration desk, wed had to walk alongside construction tape that kept us out of a work area. Just as we initialed the final form, a jackhammer had begun to pound away so that we had to shout to each other to be heard. And as to our accommodationswell, the kitchen and living room were definitely there, but that was about all that could be said of them. The floor was covered in stained, thin, nondescript gray-brown carpet, with a large wet spot in the middle that smelled of Lysol. A cheap, stiff couch with nary a pillow was pushed up against one wall. Old, torn wallpaper covered the kitchen walls, and the unmistakable smell of strong cleaning solution from the sink assaulted our noses.