When you look up the definition of home, you will find several options to choose from: a place of residence; the social unit formed by a family of individuals living together; a familiar setting; a place of origin; a residence providing care for people with special needs; and the object of victory in certain games.
If you would have asked me about nine years ago what a home was, I would have given you the "place of residence", and I would dare say, the most common and expected answer. But almost four years ago to the day, we were forced into bankruptcy and reluctantly, but eventually willingly, conceded our "home".
As I sit here and think about all the structures I have resided in, I am pretty positive I have the majority of them covered: Trailer parks (many), house in the country, childhood home, college dorm, sorority house, 3-bedroom apartment, 700 sq' duplex, big city first-time home buyer new construction, larger second home in the "country" on an acre with some of the best neighbors evvaaah..., small town 3400 sq' 100-year home dream project (going into it), fear of being homeless/living in parents basement, and currently...1100 sq' of 100-year old 'cozy'.
To look at that previous paragraph, it is completely humbling on many levels. My first thought is that is all so temporary...just a place...a blessed place of shelter until the next piece of the puzzle is put into place. Second thought, is that God has always provided for me. I have always had a roof over my head, it may not be the roof I have always dreamed of, but it has always simply been. And third, with many shelters in the U.S. overflowing there are people in this world that may only have one or two of those structures on their list and one of those might be the shelter or in third-world countries it might be a box...
As discussion after the second break-in to our store began and we approached the cliff on the tiptoes of bankruptcy, my husband and I were on opposite ends of what to do with our "home". After all, the house is what drew us to the small town, sealed the deal. This neglected old home with red-oak woodwork and old stone fireplace and the opportunity to restore it into all the beauty we saw it could be under the layers of green shag carpet, one-inch of dust, and foam ceiling tiles. And we did what we could, and it was beautiful. And it was our sweat, tears, smashed thumbs, curse words, and satisfaction in the final product. And....it was hard to let go.
But in the end it was just a place. A place that housed "things" that we had collected over the years. A place that housed memories, yes...but those memories transfer with us, they are not fixed. A place that had felt much of our sadness and witnessed some ugly discussions as we absorbed the tragedy of losing it all. The people within the house mattered....the memories of 16 years of marriage being packed into boxes mattered...the hope that God would use it for His good somehow...mattered.
Let me tell you something about the little "home" we are in now...it needs a lot of work...just like us. I have no doubt that God looks down on us and dreams of all the updates He would like to make on our hearts. If we would only invest in bettering ourselves one tile at a time, as we dream of doing to the kitchen backsplash. My bathroom is holding on to 1960's salmon tile and a matching sink...what am I holding onto from the past that needs to be left in the past? And the east and south side of the house still has the original windows and screens, and while full of character, they lack efficiency...sometimes I am full of personality, but am I really using that to make others around me the best they can be?
The greatest thing (and sometimes the worst) is that we are always together. Someone might be watching TV in the living area, while one is at the desk on the computer, and someone else is coloring in their new journaling Bible at the table. We are in the same 250 sq' every night and it is awesome. If someone gets up and goes to sit on the back deck with the hound dog, the other three usually aren't far behind...that my friends...is home.
Home is my son begging his dad to start the charcoal on the grill, home is that we can hear someone singing in the salmon shower in the short distance to the living room, home is everyone holding their nose because someone tooted on the couch under their blanket, home is everyone of us talking baby-talk to our basset hound when we go to the back door, home is my daughter's addiction to baking, home is coloring for six hours last Saturday in our Bibles together, home is knucks at bedtime, home is shoes that have had feet in them lying on top of folded sweaters in my small closet, home is my grandma's bowling pins in a frame behind the couch, home is a cold beer and fire pit. Anyhow...that is how I see home.
2 Corinthians 9:11 is part of the section on the 'Cheerful Giver' and Paul says: "You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce Thanksgiving to God."
My small house has enriched me. I am thankful that I have a roof over my head that happens to be new. I am thankful that it only takes me an hour tops to clean it ceiling to floor...not that that always happens, but in theory it is pretty spectacular. I do my best to be generous when I can to others going through a drought in life...I have been there, I have made it through...thanks be to God.
I have learned that it is not the shell that surrounds me while I sleep, but the beings that inhabit the innermost parts of my heart while I rest...that is home.
No comments:
Post a Comment