Not For Sale

My grandparents were city folks who enjoyed the country on the weekends. They loved to go camping, fishing, or other such activities. Now, they were leaving city comforts and moving to the country to start a new way of life for their family.

Grandma told me that the first years of their new home were very tough. The well water was unsuitable for drinking, washing, or cooking, so they had to haul gallons of water each week from town, and the clothes had to be washed at the local washeteria. At the time, they had an eight-party line which made the telephone almost useless until a private line could be installed due to my grandpa being with the railroad. The septic system had its own set of problems, not to mention a new school for the kids. “Miserable times at best,” they said. With familiar gone, inconveniences clouded their reasoning, and tears stained their new home.

It’s easy to think our dreams are located at the end of the rainbow instead of during the rain.

A few days ago, Chuck and I were awakened in the night to a small alarm going off down the hallway. Chuck jumped up to see what it was, only to find his feet sinking into the water. I heard him call my name, and soon I joined him in waders and floaties. I was tempted to throw in a raft, but I didn’t think Chuck would find it too comical.

I stood frozen in about half an inch of icy water. It was everywhere; bedrooms, hallway, kitchen, and laundry room. And that was only the visible damage. I heard Chuck’s voice snap me back to reality, telling me to grab towels, buckets, and mops! The teamwork between you and your spouse will glue the years together seamlessly.

Sleep finally came only to be disturbed by the dreaded nightmare. So much had to be done to repair the damage done by the water.

Charlotte screamed at all the noises tearing at her security and found her only place of solace was on my hip. Although intrigued with all the commotion, Eva was unsure why these men were ripping out the floor she engineered her trains around. In the middle of relocating our belongings, I assured her that everything would have its place again, given a bit of time.

The more I see our sweat, sounds, and steps carved into my home, the easier the words NOT FOR SALE roll off my tongue. My children’s footprints decorate the front yard with their play and their smiles hang all over my walls as they grow. There is not a price tag for watching life develop through the years.

Our dreams come packaged in washeterias and galoshes more times than in bunnies and snow cones. Our struggle must be passed down to our children most of all.

My grandparent’s wrinkled hands speak of the years it has taken to arrive at forever. And yet, the same hands hold each other as each new day begins. They continue to build their life even at eighty plus years.

No one will hear your breakthrough until they have heard your “been through” – Jim Stockdale

Grandpa said, “Looking back over all the years, even the first trying years, I am so glad we stayed.” Grandma joined him with, “It was best for all of us.”

Erwin McManus said, “It’s not that those who settle for less don’t want more for their lives, it is that they want the “more” where they are and they are not willing to go where the “more” is waiting for them….One of the nuanced skills of people who maximize their capacity and optimize their impact on the world is knowing which battles to fight. They know which ground to give up. They know where to settle. This is not because they are postured for compromise; they clarify what matters to them. They know what their lives are about. They have a profound intention, and that intention informs every arena of their lives.”

I heard a story about a man in the armed forces who moved every two years. He desperately wanted to offer stability to his children, but that was hard to do when they never stayed anywhere long enough. He decided no matter where they were relocated; He would have the same gigantic boulder flown in and placed at the entrance of their new home. He told his kids, “When you see the boulder, you will know you are home.”

We were at a church workday; I had climbed in the truck watching Chuck help build a fence around one spot. Eva was running around playing with friends. I couldn’t help but snap a picture of the moment. I sent it to my dad and told him, “Ask me if I regret moving here.” He replied, “Ten years from now, it will be in your children’s DNA. They will look for the same. Now stay.”

My home is not for sale because I want my story to speak as loudly as the boulder; picnics in the shadows of trouble. I want my story to be etched in every wrinkle on my hands; until I too can say, “I am glad we stayed.”

Welcome Home

“The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He restores my soul for His name sake.” (soul- mind, will, and emotions) Psalms 23:1

Don’t forget to purchase your copy of HOME SWEET HOME now available on AMAZON!

Please SUBSCRIBE, LIKE, and SHARE below!