house
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Time for the new.
I’m sorting through every single thing in our kitchen today. We are preparing to fully gut it tomorrow, a project that is happening about 5 years later than we thought it would. Life has been a little rocky lately. We’ve had some strange medical issues, along with some normal but annoying sicknesses. It feels as though we’ve had every common ailment over the past few weeks, and at times like it may never end. We are embarking on a new thing, the School of Kingdom Writers is just a few weeks from launching its first full time classes. Students are actually moving from all over the country to little Zanesville,…
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The fire
The noise first alerted us to a problem. Our old house had been renovated so often that the living room was a windowless cave. We often found solace in the protection from dangers that lurked outside, but tonight it was a hindrance. It was late that is when bad things happen. Orange light filtered through the diamond window of the front door as we crowded together to look. I gasped as tongues of fire consumed the house across the street. That was the nice house on the street, I moaned. When 50% of the street was vacant we learned to appreciate the houses that were nice. Sirens wailed in the…
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Light and Shadows
Our dining room is my favorite spot in our house. A place of convergence at all times of day to both create and eat. During the evening hours of spring and fall the room fills with glorious light. The sun creates pockets of highlights and shadows that easily take your breathe away. Today contractors are removing one of my beloved windows to make a room for my grandmother to live in. My sacred space of light is about to darken. This whole process of deciding and planning to move my grandmother in has been one of many ups and downs. She can no longer live at home safely but she can no…
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the dung.
*** I wrote this almost a year ago (it’s unedited). Praise Jesus for what he has done in that year’s time. We are in our spacious place and the house in the city is coming into it’s true glory.*** “We are not even the seed. We are the dung preparing the land to receive the seed.” Dorothy Day We knew that when we moved to this house 5 years ago that it was going to be hard. We understood nothing about the community around us other than it was broken (literally, most of the neighboring houses were vacant) and that we had a ton of work ahead of us…
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upcycling.
As the sun filters pink through the trees outside of their bedroom window, I listen to my son pray and reflect on what he told me earlier. “God makes the seed grow into a tree. It’s like the seed is trash, and God makes it into something new again.” he said that evening while they played outside. “God is like upcycling.” Upcycling—the process of taking something old and useless and giving it new purpose. Isn’t that what it’s all about? God taking our lives, once rubbish and useless, and turning them into something new. God taking a planet, a world that was broken, fractured and terrible, and slowly redeeming it—transforming it into a new…
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the next step.
It felt like the world was rushing us. Trying to convince us to put our house on the market quickly so it didn’t sit empty and become a target for vandals. I get it, it makes sense. But it didn’t feel right. We knew we had to take one step at a time. Selling our house was never the next step to take. I felt confident God would provide the right people for this place. After disappointments, hopes and many nights of wondering what will become of our beloved cocoa manor we now know. It is incredible. In fact it is everything we ever…
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an open letter to my family.
Our name is on the deed. It’s ours. But the thing is, it’s yours too. You have memories and experiences there. I want you to know that we know that. That in some sense we share this space, you and I. I want to you to know that we will take care of it, we will love it and fill it with laughter. Tears, too. We will care for the land and respect it. It will be a place for our children to connect to their history, to hear stories of the past and learn the life they are woven into. A house is ours, but it can never really…
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the story of the house across the street.
When we moved in it was one of the only inhabited houses on our end of the street. The swat team came, the house caught fire. And now… It’s gone.
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being the brave photographer i want to be.
I told myself at the beginning of summer that I was going to be braver when it came to taking photos of our neighborhood. I was going to ask people for their photo when I saw fit and try to really capture the beauty that I see here everyday. It’s August and I’ve taken one photo that counts toward that goal. Tonight I announced that we would be going for a walk after dinner. Partly because we have snotty kids who needed time out of the house but mostly because I needed to force myself to use my camera in our neighborhood. Photography comes naturally, but only if I first set…
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giving thanks.
The smell of sweet honeysuckle drifts through the air. I study the plant that will eventually creep up the wire to shade our porch and smile. I look at the flowers that line our porch, the food growing in our yard. My heart could almost burst from gratefulness. A house once broken, now redeemed. How long before it would have been condemned? But now it sits on it’s corner, shining bright for all to see. To remember what it used to be and see what it is. And to know, hopefully, Light is there.
