My House

The wise woman builds her house,

But with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.

Proverbs 14:1

I have lived in one house or another my entire life.  First it was my parents’ home, then college dorms, apartments, and finally a variety of single family houses.  In all that time, I never owned the home I lived in – I always rented.  Buying a home was simply never a financial option.  My father talked constantly about pouring rent money down a rabbit hole, but there was no other option.  In the summer of 2010, however, the Lord opened up the opportunity for me to purchase my first home.

I have always thought there wasn’t much difference between renting and owning, other than the financial advantages.  How foolish I was!  There is a vast difference: this one is mine, and when cracks appear on the guest room walls, or the grout begins to loosen in the bathroom tiles, no one is going to fix it for me (unless I pay them, of course!).  I have never been the world’s best housekeeper, and things around here tend to get a bit cluttered (including all that paper that I always seem to drown in).  When I get a current project spread all over the living room, it begins to look down-right disgusting.

My oldest daughter called last weekend to let me know that she had taken a couple of days off work, and was going on a road trip with her boyfriend – to Richmond!  I have never met this young man, and as I listened to her plans and surveyed my home, my heart sank!  My house is absolutely in no shape to receive visitors, particularly my beloved daughter’s significant other.  It is time for me to build up my house, rather than tear it down!  I have four days to accomplish that – a daunting but exhilarating task.  Say a prayer for me this week – I’m going to need all the help I can get!

Many Hands

And let them make Me a sanctuary,

that I might dwell among them.

Exodus 25:8

Today in Sunday School, I will be teaching the 1^st-5^th graders about the building of the first church – the tabernacle in the wilderness.  Although technically my rotation is music, I am also the first one to introduce the lesson for the month.  I have a wonderful set of felts of the Old Testament sanctuary that I am going to use to help the kids visualize what that ancient tent sanctuary looked like.  It will be like an old-fashioned Sunday School class - felts and all.

My teaching materials included a great song about what makes up a church, but it was set to a melody I did not know.  I found that the words fit to the tune of Jesus Loves the Little Ones like Me – a melody that the children are familiar with. The last portion of the chorus especially appeals to me:

It takes all kinds of us to do thing right –

Mothers, grandmas, fathers, kids, we’re precious in His sight.

So when there’s a job to do,

Don’t leave it up to one or two.

It takes all kinds of us to do things right.

How often do we decide that “the other guy” will do it?  We’re too busy, we’re too tired, it’s not our job, let someone else handle it, we’ve already done our part, etc.  It is a sad truth that in many volunteer organizations, 90% of the work is done by 10% of the people.  Regardless of our age or abilities, there is a contribution that each of us can make.  Remember – many hands make light work. 

Happy Birthday??

Can a mother forget the baby at her breast

And have no compassion on the child she has borne?

Though she may forget, I will not forget you!

Isaiah 49:15

How is it possible for a mother to forget her own child’s birthday?  I have no answer to that question, certainly no excuses, but it happened to me this week and I am still reeling from the possible implications concerning my own mental health, as well as dealing with the feelings of stupidity and inadequacy.  My eldest child’s birthday was Thursday, and I sailed through the day without any recognition of its importance.

She called me last night, and during our conversation, she mentioned that her boyfriend’s birthday was today.  I asked how old he was going to be, and as I calculated in my head his age vs. hers, it hit me.  I could not have been more humiliated.  She laughed and was very gracious, but I felt about an inch tall, if that!  Today it is still playing over and over in my head:  How could you?  I have no idea.

Isaiah’s text indicates that it is, indeed, possible to forget things concerning our own children - frail humans that we are, but in God’s direct words, “I will not forget you!”  How grateful I am for that assurance.  While I wander through life in a haze of busyness and distraction, God knows exactly where I am, how many hairs are on my head, and what day my birthday is!  Now if He can just help me remember next September 29…