The mission, should you choose to accept it, is to create a home

Our story so far: On the verge of making irreversible decisions about everything from lighting to flooring, I set out to write a design guide for my husband and I to follow as we transform the old Methodist church into our home.

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I began with a mission statement:

We strive to create a comfortable sanctuary in the modern world, built solidly and maintained orderly.

Comfort was the first adjective for a reason; my husband and I didn’t want an art house that required ramrod posture and scared visitors away. Sanctuary was a good word with two meanings: Churches had sanctuaries, and sanctuaries were places of peace. With this intention, I created my first mantra to carry me through the construction phase when things got tough: “We live in a church. Let’s practice peace.”

After living in what we repeatedly referred to as a cardboard box for a decade, Tyler and I both lusted for solidity. Hollow-core doors, paper-thin walls and plain vanilla details were created for the masses; we wanted something a craftsman from a century ago would have created to persevere through a F5 tornado.

Though I was a slob to my core, I knew my husband was a Virgo who valued order so creating an orderly home with lots of storage and easy ways to hide away mess was important.

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Tomorrow: Our design style, summarized. (I tell you, it’s like poetry.) Read it here.

5 thoughts on “The mission, should you choose to accept it, is to create a home

    • Did you ever sit through those day-long meetings with C.A. writing department mission statements? Arguing about the difference between “delivering” and “providing” or other minutia? Brutal. I just wanted to get back to work. Fortunately, since I’m both management AND the customer, I can declare customer centricity as irrelevant. Ha!

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