The Magnolia Story(55)

I am learning that getting our intentions right simplifies our decisions in life and changes our perspective. And in the end, what it’s all about is thankfulness and contentment.



In December of 2014, a friend of mine forwarded me a blog post written by a woman who was dying of cancer. Kara Tippetts was thirty-seven years old, and she was in her last months of life as she typed out her post. I’m paraphrasing here, but what she said was, “I’m watching this show in the hospital called Fixer Upper, and my kids are at home. I have four kids like them. I wish I could be in my own bed and decorate my house for Christmas.”

We were in the middle of filming, working on multiple renovation projects at once, and dealing with the craziness of the holiday season like any other family. But I said, “Chip, I’m going to see her. I feel like I’m supposed to go and decorate her house for Christmas.”

We wrote to let her know we were coming, and two close friends of mine hopped on a plane with me to Colorado. When we got to her house, she was upstairs, lying in bed. She had been in the hospital for some time, and she was glad to be home. She was in a lot of pain, but being home with her family gave her comfort.

Kara had lost her hair during chemo and had just started growing it back when I met her. When I walked into her room and saw her for the first time, she radiated so much peace and beauty in the midst of her evident pain. She was so sick that she wasn’t supposed to stand up to give me a hug, but she struggled and asked for help and stood up and did it anyway.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

Kara’s house was chaotic. It was full of life. Full of her life. She didn’t choose quiet, peaceful, alone time in her final days. She wanted to be in the middle of it all.

I didn’t know why I was there. I didn’t know what I could do for her. And it turned out, I think, that she did more for me. The more we spoke, the more amazed I was at her story. She chose to find the joy in the midst of suffering. Every inch of her home reflected beauty and life. Before she got sick she had been intentional about celebrating this sweet season of life with four young children—not for anyone else, but her own babies. She had found the secret, and her children thrived there.

I found myself wondering, “What would the world be like if everybody had her mind-set?” She just reconfirmed for me a million times over that it’s up to us to choose contentment and thankfulness now—and to stop imagining that we have to have everything perfect before we’ll be happy.

I was struggling at that particular time of my life, trying to incorporate the cameras and the long days of filming a TV show around everything else that was going on in our lives. But I left Colorado with an entirely new resolve: I would never forget that all of this is a blessing. I would never forget to be thankful—and to find joy.

Kara passed away a couple of months after our visit. Even though I only visited with her for a couple of days, I felt like I had lost a mentor and dear friend. Her example helped ignite a spark in me to see things differently and to live wholly and intentionally for those closest to me.

I am thankful our show paved a path for me to meet Kara. She was a gift.

People ask us sometimes, “Why the connection? Why are people drawn to Fixer Upper and the way you and Chip interact?”

I can’t fully answer that question. I honestly don’t know. But I think—I hope—that a lot of it has to do with the way we’ve chosen to live our lives.

And I hope our example is a good one.





FIFTEEN



THE BLOOM

In May of 2014, just after the first season of Fixer Upper started airing, we did something that had seemed unimaginable eight years earlier. I turned the key in the other direction and reopened my little shop on Bosque Boulevard.

Earlier in January of that same year, Chip and I had traveled to Scottsdale, Arizona, to watch the Baylor Bears play in a national bowl game on New Year’s Day. I had a twofold purpose for the trip. I wanted to watch the Bears beat the University of Central Florida with Chip. (Unfortunately the Bears lost, much to Chip’s dismay.) And I wanted time to get fresh perspective for the New Year.

It was a beautiful sunny day when Chip dropped me at a park near our hotel. I’d asked him to give me an hour or so to journal and gather my thoughts for the New Year. I found a tree to hide under and I sat there to reflect on the past year. And within moments of sitting down, I heard that voice again. You know the one. That voice said, It’s time to reopen your shop.

By now you know I like to argue first and then reason later. “Are you serious?” I said out loud. “I have four kids now, a business to run, and a television show. How on earth could I do that?”

But the still, small, oh-so-familiar voice whispered again: It’s time.

There is always peace when I finally decide to obey that voice. Although I may wrestle with him at first like a little kid, in the end I always know that he knows best.

I began to get giddy, and I immediately started drawing up a business plan and ideas for my shop’s reopening. When Chip arrived to pick me up I walked toward the car, beaming. I opened the door and said, “Chip, it’s time to reopen Magnolia.”

Of course, in vintage Chip fashion, he responded, “Let’s do it!”

Magnolia had outgrown its offices in that space anyway, and had already partially relocated to a larger location. I had a bunch of inventory sitting around that I had planned to use for remodeling projects and staging homes, so it was easy to set it all back up—basically overnight. I had kept in contact with all of my suppliers as well, since I’d continued to do the Magnolia Home shows through the years. It all happened really, really quickly. My regular clientele flocked in as soon as we opened the doors. And because of Fixer Upper, new customers started coming in too.