homelife

The move has happened, the job change is underway, now it’s time to do all those things I said I’d do once August came. Like exercise, walk my dog, blog, develop rhythms that connect me with God, etc. Well, here’s the moment of truth, it’s time to get started.


The house is coming along, we’ll have projects to work on, paint on, organize on, and repair on, till my birthday in March if not later. There always seems to be one more thing to do. For about a week now we’ve worked till around midnight unpacking, painting, and moving. Last night we made some big steps; our bedroom is finally clear of boxes and looks half ordered, the study and kitchen are almost done, so once we dig through the remaining boxes in the living room, hallway and those boxes still hiding in random corners we can start working in the disaster zone formally known as the basement. But after all of that, I must confess that I simple love our new home. It’s the kind of home I’ve dreamed of, the way I feel sitting in the living room, the way the study connects to the bedroom, the twisting staircase, the old woodwork wrapping around the floor, the list could go on, but I’m realizing that at times I’m going to have to really work to keep this house in it’s proper place, people before property, cause who knows, with my electrical skills and the age of this place (built 1905) it could be up in smoke at the drop of hat.

Now to the heart stuff, I long for our home to be a stepping-stone for people. A place that whatever the next step they need in life they can find it in this house. If it’s a caring ear, I pray there’s someone here to listen, if it’s a friend, that a friend can be found, if it’s direction, that wisdom will be in this place, if it’s honestly, the truth will be told with boldness yet humility and grace. I do long for this home to not become my kingdom, my comfort zone, my treasure, but a safe place, a place of love, a place of grace, a place where you simple know there’s something different, and that something different being the reflection of the God who calls us his friend. This home must never be mine, must never be held more closely than people, but I do love this house of brick and sticks, and long for this stinkin old place to be a modern day sanctuary for those who enter.