Small Stories of a Big God

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My Momma Built a House

Even before the world was made, God had already chosen us to be His through our union with Christ, so that we would be holy and without fault before Him. Because of His love God had already decided that through Jesus Christ He would make us His children—this was His pleasure and purpose. Ephesians 1:4-5 Good News Translation (GNT) 

To whom do you belong?

Our family of origin shapes us. God knew full well where He was placing us long before we entered this world. He chose our mother, our father, and the time and place.

It fascinates me. As the songwriter, Dave Matthews asks, “Could I be anyone other than me?” No. I think not.

These days I think of the frailty of this thing called life. I think of the people who came before me. I think of the conversations I have shared and the hands I have touched. I think of the places I have called home.

We make our decisions, we weigh out our choices, but somehow the moment in time we are born and where our feet touch the ground paints the picture with much broader strokes than our little ‘yeses’ and ‘no’s’.

How much did God put into motion? How much have I chosen? And to what purpose?

This is why I write my stories. Trying to figure it all out. Trying to make sure I am living with meaning… and not just letting one day slip unnoticed into another. Sometimes my mind thinks in the half-thoughts of rambling poetry. I think it is my spirit’s way of sorting things out. Please indulge me here: 

The House on Shady Lane

I have the honor privilege responsibility

         of belonging to a family.

A family that is evident in more than people,

         but is also defined by place.

A house sitting on land that belonged to my Grandfather,

         whom I never knew,

         built by my mother when she was barely in her 30’s

         for herself and her two daughters.

We pore over these black and white photographs,

         white borders with dates printed in the margins. 

July 1954.

There she is: my mother.

Dark hair smoothed back, earrings catching the light, dazzling smile,

leaning back in a chair in her new living room,

friends Mildred and Dot must be sitting 

in the corner opposite.

My younger sister and I stare down 

         into these photographs taken before we were born,

         before our daddy began showing up

         suave and handsome with his boyish grin.

Sixty years later

we are all that is left of the once was 

family of six.

We work like puzzle solvers,

         trying to reconstruct this house 

         that held our family.

“See, there’s a window there in the corner

         which must have disappeared

         when she enclosed the breezeway…”

"That sofa must have been on that wall

         before the den addition…

And why did she remodel the kitchen

         after just five years in?”

My mother had built a house for three,

         herself and Ann and Kathy…

But before a year had passed she had 

         affirmed wedding vows in the Living Room

         and a year later was taking light blurred

         photographs of me, reaching out,

         one baby hand the only thing

         in focus.

We seem to be a family that keeps all photographs,

         even the most blurred or most unflattering.

But the house was too small for all the people 

         who came through its door,

and so the carpenters were called:

         walls torn down; more bricks delivered.

Everyone was always welcomed.

‘The more the merrier!’ she would say

         and add another chair at the table.

The daughters married, son-in-laws

                                                      came and went…

Grandchildren slept in the same cribs 

         their mothers had before them.

They learned to swim in the pool 

         and ate lunch at the same table,

         watched the redbirds out the same window.

And here we are,

         two old women, sisters,

         raking the leaves, stacking firewood,

         making plans to paint the kitchen,

         remodel the bathroom.

“It’s too big,” she says.

“It’s a lot,” I agree.

The pool opens after the tassels fall

         and closes when the acorns begin to drop.

The fireworks thunder on the evening of the fourth

         and the Christmas tree

         comes down from the attic in December.

“How long?” I wonder.

“How long will we continue?”

I haven’t seen the hummingbirds this summer

         and the baby hawks have 

         left their nest.

I ask again: To whom do you belong? I have had two ‘families’; my family of birth and my family of marriage. Oddly, I have only lived in two houses; the house of my parents where I grew up and the house where my husband and I have raised our own family. But to whom do I belong? 

Because of His love God had already decided 

that through Jesus Christ 

He would make us His children—this was His pleasure and purpose.

This is my clue to making the pieces fit together. There is more than my birth family and my family created by marriage and my own children. God chose me before the world began to be part of His family. It brought Him pleasure and purpose to do so.

“For I know the plans I have for you…”

Those plans always include family and place. Sometimes it is the family of birth. Often it is the family of our choosing. I pray for you that you have embraced God’s offer of adoption into His family. Does it surprise you to have such an invitation? Does it seem impossible that He loves you so much He desires to call you His child? Does it seem unbelievable that He chose you?

It does me, a little. But here it is in ink:

Even before the world was made, 

God had already chosen us to be His 

through our union with Christ…

Ah, there it is – the fine print: ‘through our union with Christ’. And just so there is no misunderstanding it is stated again: ‘…through Jesus Christ He would make us His children’.

To whom do you belong? There just may be a much bigger family than the one we live with here on this earth. There may be a home we can’t see yet that is constantly undergoing renovation – another room added here and the kitchen expanded there. Because the door is always open, and you are always welcomed. 

The Father of the family is waiting for your arrival. And His Son has prepared a place for you at their table. 

Questions: Who is the ‘family’ that has most influenced your life? Where did God place you to influence and make a difference? To whom do you belong?

* Dave Matthews  ‘Dancing Nancies’ song lyrics from Under the Table and Dreaming 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nuKr04TQ_mc