Through wisdom is an house builded; and by understanding it is established:
Proverbs 24:3
Walking up the steps of the long front porch I remember.Remembering the beginning stages of my young life, and the house that love built.Just like watching my father pour and form the concrete,my childhood took time to be mixed and poured to take the shape God wanted.But now I see where the concrete has cracked and chipped.Blazing summers and cold merciless winters have left their mark.Yet,it remains.A testament to my father's craftsmanship.I remain,cracked and chipped though.A far cry for the young boy I was.
That cement when it was poured was strong and tough.As it dried out and cured it got harder.So is a young man in his prime.I bend down to look at the handprints.One is mine,and one is my brothers.I look at my hands,and they are all that remain of that time.He is gone on to be with Dad and mine are left scarred and bruised from years of work and worry.
Foundations hold up a house,just like memories hold you up in times you feel alone.
Circling around the corner I see a tree.Underneath that old oak tree,my favorite dog is buried.And that tree could be seen from my small back bedroom window.I was excited to watch the walls go up on the house.I ran and played through the frame of the house.Playing chase in the maze of boards.Trying to find each other in our little game of hide and go seek.Dad looked up with his hammer in his hand and smiled.Realizing what he was working so hard for.Nail by nail,and board by board he built the house that built me.
Walls seperate and doors hide us from each other.Sometimes I don't when to stop building up around me.Entering into house,down the hallway to my room,I hear my mother's voice.She calls out for me to leave the door open to my room, so she can hear me if I need her while we played.As I became an independent minded teenager,I wanted the door shut cause I had it all worked out.The older I got the more I realized with each hand I let go,I felt a door shut that I couldn't leave open anymore.I wish to God I had more time to leave more doors open.But time is just finite.I shut more doors with my mouth than I leave open...
I look for myself among the things that this old house has stored in it.I go from room to room searching for me.I thought if I could just touch something or feel it,the brokenness inside me might start healing.I got lost in this big,old world and forgot who I am....
Is who I am,lost in here somewhere?
I walk outside and glance at the sky.Clouds roll by.Taking forms and shapes in a child's imagination.Looking upward I saw my Dad working on the roof.He waved down at my brother and I while we played in the front yard.I stopped what I was doing and waved back.Now I look to that same sky and wonder how many times did my father look down from heaven and wave at me.But,I was too busy to even notice.
I expect to see my brother standing beside me waving up to him.But I stand here alone in this yard.My wife honks the horn and says it's time to go.I see my new life before with my children.I wonder if they will look back upon their days like this or have my past mistakes clouded that option?Only time will tell.
My journey has lead me down one of many paths in my soul.At the end of this path lies one of my fondest spots.The spot where the house that love built stands.
To be continued...
by
Lance Gargus
Posts
