Listening to Houses

This is the house Ron & I grew up in.  :)

Listening to Houses

Today is Thanksgiving.  I awoke slowly, our little Doxie, Sadie, waiting for me to stir which means her breakfast is forthcoming.  But I lay still, listening.  Listening to the quiet of our first Thanksgiving here in Vancouver, in this house.  Thankful for so many things, the house my witness.

I remembered waking in my parent's house so many years and so many years ago.  Our home had things to say.  Deep in the night and early morning hours, it would creak and moan, seeming to express its own life.  I could hear the furnace flame ignite and shut off.  So safe and secure, Mom & Dad in the next room, always there.  No fear of their not being together, didn't even occur to us.  And my big brother in another room.  All of us under this expressive roof.  If those walls could really have talked they would've been a narrative of over 30 years of living.  I will remember that house as long as I live of course, most of us do I guess.  I can see it all crystal clear.  Mom & Dad made some changes through the years, and I must confess, the latest are not clear in my mind.  But they were cosmetic, the bones remained unchanged.

The other "house" that spoke was our last place, downtown Grants Pass.  An apartment made from old medical offices on the 2nd floor of the Wing Building at 6th & G.  It was chock full of quirks and make-do's, but pretty cute all in all.  That was a whole experience i'll write about another time, but it talked too.  When I first moved in it made me startle in the night with its loud declarations, I was certain someone was up on that 2nd floor who shouldn't be there.  But as I peeked through the whole in the door, no one was ever there.  It was merely a very old building with tons to say.  Of course I grew used to it's complaining, like a mature body has aches and pains and complains about them.  Got to be comforting even.  To lay there and here various sounds, the old place had lots to say.  It had seen a lot.  I felt that it was happy with us there, making a real home.  It's customary cacophony became a friend's soothing voice.

It seems unfair or unreal that places we live can't absorb some of the life lived within them.  They provide shelter and a place to be, something that is precious to me.  If you ever have it truly threatened or lose it, you understand what I mean.  They seem more to me than building materials.

So I lay this morning in the stillness.  Regretting that this house, so very nice, is just too young to have anything much to say.  Still....it's listening to us.  It's hearing the life and the love and again, is our witness to the faithfulness of a God that is with us whatever house He gives us to be in. 

So happy Thanksgiving.  All of us have so much to be thankful for, Dave & I in particular.  Life is radically different than it was a year ago, and our gratitude cannot be adequately expressed to our God, and to those that helped us and loved us through such a hard, hard time.  I hope everyone has the best Thanksgiving ever and that blessings continue to rain all the coming year. 

And thank you to our Almighty God for His great love, mercy, kindness, faithfulness that covers all.♥