This old Farm House.
With it’s broken windows and peeling paint keeps us entertained.
The farm boy and girls are fooling around;
he slams the door; a little too hard.
In the morning a rescue is made.
The door is locked.
So through the window and down the ladder the girls go.
We’re ready for breakfast.
Never a dull moment.
I could go on and on about the things wrong here.
Ceilings with water damage.
Oh, how I long for them to be painted.
A fifty year old carpet, that I would love to remove.
On and on the list goes.
I breathe deep.
Take a look at this.
And I think, there can’t be a more beautiful place on this earth.
The drafty windows and sticky doors are nothing compared to this view.
The peace that comes.
The sun shining on the river like the “Lake of Shining Waters” in Anne of Green Gables.
The snow capped mountain.
All created to be enjoyed.
I don’t grow tired or weary.
While so much is falling apart or in need of work.
The beauty around me makes it all worth the troubles of this Old Farm House.
What you don’t see are the memories made.
My mom used to say, “If the walls could talk.”
I believe that about this place.
There are many stories shared over coffee around this farmhouse table.
But it’s the ones that were lived that are sometimes unspoken.
There has been much grief lived in this 140 year old home.
There has also been immense joy.
We will step into that joy with the help of the One who calls us by name.
Who goes before us and behind us;
who walks with us.
I am thankful for:
This drafty old farmhouse
the broken windows, cracked walls
creaks on the floor boards
no over head lighting in the bedrooms
Floor to ceiling windows
50 year old carpet
Memories that echo through these rooms
coffee and a worn table
baked goods and crisp mornings
conversations with the farm boy that remind me of another
my kids working out their salvation; making it their own
rainy days and possible snow
Guests in the Guest House
the farm boy playing the guitar
The youngest farm girl playing Christmas music on her cello
enough of a struggle to keep me on my knees
When my glory passes by,
I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by.