Antique prayers and picture frames

This is one of my favorite corners of our home, a little bit gold, a little bit aqua, all thrifted, discovered, or salvaged.

This entire corner cost me less than $10, I love that.

The chocolate brown table was hauled out of the trash near our first married apartment.

The gold mirror tray was a garage sale find

The aqua watering can, I must confess, was an Ikea special that I took the spray paint to.

The cranberries were a Hobby Lobby purchase.

The frame, however, is the best story:  Found at a garage sale on the outskirts of town  for $1. When I started working on it I realized it was lined with old German newspapers that, although illegible to me, predate World War 1.

Oh the stories it could tell, I like to imagine that it came across the Atlantic on a steamer, wrapped in brown paper or in a trunk, the cherished possession of a woman with hopes for new life in America.

I could be all wrong, but I’m glad that it’s come to rest with us.

I painted it glossy white and filled it’s corners a prayer-poem that is saving me right now.

I wanted to share it, all of it, the frame, the nook, the prayer with you.


Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
     to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
     unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
     that it is made by passing through
     some stages of instability—
     and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you;
     your ideas mature gradually—let them grow,
     let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Don’t try to force them on,
     as though you could be today what time
     (that is to say, grace and circumstances
     acting on your own good will)
     will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit
     gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
     that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
     in suspense and incomplete.

—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ

For those of us who long to see around the bend, but know that for now we must wait.

For those of us who feel jittery inside, wonder some days if their insides match their life at the moment.

For those with dreams that feel uncontrollable stunted right now.

For us who wonder, us impatient ones, For us there is this prayer.

  • Mark Allman (@Vaderalman)

    Great artistic work there Leanne. I think at times when we are trying so hard to see around the bend we miss what is going on in the here and now. We need to relish where we are on the journey and not be so hell bent on getting to the destination.

  • Anne Vermeulen

    Did you write out that poem yourself? It looks beautiful. I would pay money for that.

    • leannepenny

      I did! I used graphite tracing paper

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