There is a house that I pass on the way into Milford (on Old Shawnee Road) that Certain Man and I once looked at with some interest in buying. It was coming up for public auction, and we took a tour to see just what would be needed to get it into living condition.
It was in terrible shape. The man of the house had passed away, and his wife, devastated and unable to cope had literally walked away, leaving laundry on the line, lots and lots of cats in the house, and food in the freezer. Eventually the electric was turned off, and the weeds grew up around what had once been a nice ranch style house in a nice section of town. I think it had been unoccupied for seven years. When we went through, the ravages of disrepair and neglect were almost unbelievable.
We did not buy it. It went far higher on the public auction than we thought it would, but actually, we did not even go to the auction. We wouldn’t have known where to start.
That was over two years ago. And progress has been slow. But someone bought it who is making it over in beautiful little increments and it has the look of a beloved home in the making. Tonight when I went by, there were lights on and the progress of clean, smooth walls with color on them and clean windows drew my heart towards it. I just wish I could see the inside now. I wonder what it looks like. I wonder about this family that has taken this old, damaged house and made it into a thing of beauty and life.
Coming on home, pondering the things about houses and homes, Middle Daughter beside me calls my attention to the sunset. It was gorgeous colors of pink and blue and the sun was a crimson slice on the horizon. As we watched, the colors wove around and changed and only became more beautiful.
Suddenly, I felt the sting of tears. And I thought about another home that I know so little about, but that I’ve heard is so beautiful. It was like the colors and the light from that home were shining through the window, beckoning my thoughts and my heart to think about what it must be like there, wondering about the people who live there, and wishing I could see more. There are people that I love, living there, and their old bodies, so full of illness and falling into disrepair here have been made new, and there is love and light and beauty. My Daddy, Grandparents, and some of our babies are there, and many friends, all brought safely home by The Father, through the work of His Son, Jesus, whose presence in that place makes it HOME.
And I want to go there.
Oh, Beulah Land, Sweet Beulah Land,
As on thy highest mount I stand,
I look away, across the sea
Where mansions are prepared for me,
And view the shining Glory Shore–
My Heaven, My Home forevermore.