I was fortunate to grow up in a fantastic home. My parents have always been amazing — steady, loving and supportive. I had great older brothers who served as role models to me. One taught me that I could have an opinion and stand up for it (thanks Mark!). Another taught me that it was okay and even desirable to be smart (thanks Chris!). And the last one taught me to love music and that church was fun (Thanks Scott!)
But, even beyond all these blessings — I grew up in a great house. It was almost like a member of the family, itself. Built at the turn of the century, it had little nooks and crannies (perfect for hide and seek or quiet moments to yourself), creaks and groans (great for overactive imaginations like mine) and a huge yard (perfect for an outdoors-loving kid). Being the youngest child, I got to see all of my brothers head off into the world and finally inherited the much desired attic bedroom — perfect for a reclusive teenager who needed her “space” and liked to play her music loud.
Between my awesome house and my loving family, I had the place of my friends’ dreams. They all wanted to hang out at my house. I think, it retrospect, it was less about hanging out with me than it was absorbing the loving atmosphere and eyeing my “cute” brothers (their words, not mine).
But, as time passed my parents decided that the house was a little bit too big for our needs. When I was a junior in high school, my parents sold the old house and moved into a smaller one. As an overly-dramatic teenager, I thought this was horribly unfair to me. But I eventually got over it, and a year later, left for college myself.
I often used to drive by the old house with longing in my heart. It passed from owner to owner and no one seemed to love it the way we had. It fell into disrepair and became a shadow of its former self. I fantisized about buying it and restoring it to the gleaming beauty from my memory.
Last year, when we arrived at my folks for a visit, my father greeted me with bad news. I still remember the words, “bulldozer” and “backhoe”and I got an instant flash of
Bradco Attachment Parts Online advertisements along with a huge shiver going down my spine. It was like the loss of an old friend. We piled back in the car and drove over to view the remains. It was nothing but a pile of splintered boards. We stood outside the yellow tape and pointed out various things. “Oh, look, there’s the bannister that we used to slide down.” “There’s the old porch railing, do you see it?” On the top of the stack leaned the doorpost, still sporting the familiar house number.
It was a heartbreaking sight. Memories reduced to rubble.
And yet, it was a reminder, too. A house is just a building. A building is just bricks and wood. A home is so much more than that.
And you could take it further that that. This world is not our home. One day the bulldozer will come to this little corner of our universe and it will be gone.
But our memories will remain. And our new home will be so much more than bricks and wood, rocks and stones. Can you just imagine it?
I can. (and I’ll see you there!)
There’s a great song by Audio Adrenaline called “Big House.” Every time it comes on the radio, I crank up the volume and sing it at the top of my lungs (just ask my kids). It reminds me of my childhood house and my family and how my friends were drawn to my home. But it also points me toward my future. I’m going to wrap up this post with these words. Enjoy!
Big House, by Audio Adrenaline
I don’t know where you lay your head or where you call your home
I don’t know where you eat your meals or where you talk on the phone
I don’t know if you got a cook, a butler or a maid
I don’t know if you got a yard with a hammock in the shade
I don’t know if you got some shelter, say a place to hide
I don’t know if you live with friends in whom you can confide
I don’t know if you got a family, say a mom or dad
I don’t know if you feel love at all, but I bet you wish you had
Come and go with me to my Father’s house
Come and go with me to my Father’s house
It’s a big big house with lots and lots of room
A big big table with lots and lots of food
A big big yard where we can play football
A big big house — its my Father’s house
All I know, its a big ole house with rooms for everyone
All I know, its lots a land where we can play and run
All I know is you need love and I’ve got a family
All I know is you’re all alone so why not come with me?
Come and go with me to my Father’s house
Come and go with me to my Father’s house
It’s a big big house with lots and lots a room
A big big table with lots and lots of food
A big big yard where we can play football
A big big house — its my Father’s house
I was fortunate to grow up in a fantastic home. My parents have always been amazing — steady, loving and supportive. I had great older brothers who served as role models to me. One taught me that I could have an opinion and stand up for it (thanks Mark!). Another taught me that it was okay and even desirable to be smart (thanks Chris!). And the last one taught me to love music and that church was fun (Thanks Scott!)
This is a great post! It goes along with todays “journey to the cross” very well. I am loving your blog btw, even though I don’t always comment! 🙂
Just goes to show ..to put our trust in the things above where rust and moth won’t eat ! The eternal things won’t fade …they’ll last for FOREVER !: )
So true, Gayle!