Special Use Only

Using the Good Stuff

This past Christmas, Patrick and I decided we wouldn’t buy each other gifts. I stuck to our agreement, aside from a few stocking stuffers, a couple of used books. Patrick, on the other hand, did not.

On Christmas morning, Emaline brought me a stack of gifts from Santa to open.

“You weren’t supposed to get me anything,” I protested to Patrick. “This makes me feel bad,” I said, while eyeing the stack of assorted-sized boxes.

Patrick said he didn’t consider them gifts because the price tags were small, but I had quite a few things to unwrap, which is a lot of fun. I actually prefer several small, thoughtful, unexpected things over one big thing. I wouldn’t pass up one small box with a Rolex inside, but other than that, small, fun gifts are what I prefer.

In the boxes, I found:

a glass nail file
a set of nail clippers (Green Bell -Takumi No Waza - Stainless Steel)
some skin care
several books
a reading light
tomato and wildflower seeds
a nightgown
a journal
a fountain pen
chocolate-covered cherries

After I ooh’d and ahh’d, I started asking what led to some of the less obvious purchases.

Emaline said that she had recommended the glass nail file. It’s an unimpressive gift until you use it. Then it’s a 10/10. Emaline also helped with the skin care products, which were much appreciated since that’s not an area I tend to spend money on. It feels good to use some good stuff, that’s for sure.

The nail clippers? He said he’d seen an ad online claiming they were the best. He believed it, and I can attest, they are. It doesn’t seem like much could be done to re-engineer such a simple mechanism, but someone did, and their effort paid off. Now, if they could apply that same ingenuity to cancer treatment, we might really get somewhere.

The red and white gingham nightgown was my biggest question mark. What made you get this? I love it, truly, but it seemed like an odd purchase for him.

He said he knew how much I love the housecoat I found at a junk store earlier in the year. And he’s right. It’s something I never would have bought, but for a dollar, it felt worth trying. Turns out, I like it a lot. It is probably my favorite clothing acquisition of the year because it was so surprising. Why these button-down lounging garments fell out of style is beyond me.

He said he was trying to find something like it, and an ad for this gingham nightgown appeared. Yep, I can see how the algorithm got you there. I can also see where it’s headed, so I laughed and told him he better be prepared for a lot of Amish girl videos in his feed now.

The chocolate-covered cherries are a staple Christmas gift for me. My favorite. They went straight into the cupboard, hoping to resist them for a while. I did, for a few days. But I have zero self-control when it comes to these cheap chocolates, so they didn’t last long.

The books, reading light, and seeds needed no explanation. Neither did the journal and pen. For the last several years, he’s given me things that support my enjoyment of writing.

At the beginning of the new year, I sat down in my yellow chair with my new, beautiful journal and fountain pen.

And the inclination was immediate and familiar.

Save them. Use them for something special.

This journal would hold only the good things. Final drafts. Favorite poems. Lines worth keeping. The pen would be for careful writing. Neat writing. Writing that deserved ink like that.

This has happened before. Things tucked away for “someday,” until someday passed by.

But a few days into the new year, that changed.

Instead of saving, they were used.

The journal became a place for everyday thoughts. Half-formed ideas. Lines that will never go anywhere. The pressure for the words to be good enough faded, and they were simply written.

And the pages started to fill.

With things I enjoy.
With things I’m thinking about.
With small moments that would have been lost if I’d waited for perfection.

I’m glad I didn’t save the journal for something special.

Turns out, using the journal is what made it special.

Through the years, some of my “saving” has looked a lot like not living and not enjoying at all.

When I cleaned out my parents’ house, my brother went home with the Hardee’s DC superhero collector glasses from the late 70s. We each had a set.

Mine had been taken home years ago and placed in a cabinet. Saved for…what, exactly?

That night, he sent a picture. His family was using them. Just like that. Filled up, passed around, part of an ordinary evening.

It never even occurred to me to do that.

To me, they were collector’s items.
To him, they were cups to be used.

Mine had been taking up space. Serving no real purpose. Not enjoyed. Not useful. Not fun for my kids all these years.

I did the same thing with Barbie dolls. For years, I collected the Holiday Barbies. Kept them tucked away in a closet, untouched.

One year when Emaline was little, she asked for a Barbie for Christmas. When she opened the one I bought her, she said she was disappointed. It wasn’t the one with the green dress.

And I knew I had one.

Unwrapping paused while I went to the closet, dug through the boxes, found one of the collector dolls with the green dress, and brought it back.

The box was opened right then.

And the thought came almost immediately, this is what it was for.

Collector’s items collect dust.

I don’t want to collect things like that anymore. I want to collect moments. Memories.

My mother had a china cabinet that she cherished. It was a piece of furniture gifted to her by her brother, Wayne. She loved him, and she loved the cabinet. When it came to my house, it was filled with dishes and serving pieces. It looked pretty, but it wasn’t looked at very often. It was filled with things that were rarely used, if ever.

Over time, as our book collection continued to grow, it hit me. It could serve as a bookcase. It now holds books and treasures that I love. It’s opened and looked at most every day. It isn’t the intended use, but it’s the right use.

The place settings and serving pieces that weren’t being used were given away. With the exception of one pitcher and glass set from my dad as a wedding present, everything left gets used.

Chipped china is far better than dusty china.

I shared some green things I love in a post earlier today, including a rosemary plant started by a friend, my cucumber plants, and a green container of my favorite face wash. This set of green glassware should have been included. It will be used this Sunday for Easter dinner. It will likely just be the four of us, but there will be a pretty table set for my people.

As Holy Week begins, I think of Mary of Bethany, who poured her expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet. The disciples were shocked that she would “waste” something so valuable, but it wasn’t waste at all.

She understood something I’m still learning.

The value wasn’t in keeping it.
The value was in pouring it out.

That feels true of more than perfume.

This week, let’s get out our good things and use them. On and for the people we love. And maybe even those we don’t.

Let’s not save it for someday.

Let’s use it up.
Spend it.
Pour it out.

Here’s to using the good things this very good week,
Martha

P.S. If you’ve been following along, you know I’m reading through a book of 500 poems this year. As you’ll see in the picture below, I read this one on January 31st and marked it as a favorite. It resonates because that same tendency to leave things on the shelf shows up in me, too. I have to fight the urge to draw back from God, waiting for perfection before coming to the table. But He invites us—just as we are.