Several months back we bought a fixer-upper. One of those houses that no one else bid on at the auction because of the amount of work involved to make it pristine. But unlike some fixer-uppers our house is quite livable in the meantime, we can recreate parts of it into what we want, and comfortably live in it right now.
Like many houses in our area, it started out as a good 'ol Kiwi batch not far from a beach and has morphed and grown over time. I love that. I love that the house is almost as old as we are, that it's already lived a lot of life, and that it's interesting. I love that my laundry room was somewhat strangely added on later onto what must have once been the upstairs entrance to the house. That the light fixtures from room to room are from completely different eras. And we're making even more changes.
Like a life that has grown and changed over time, our house has character. Too much character at present as Rachel tells her friends that we live in the 'crack house' because of the outside badly in need of new paint (!), but nothing that can't be fixed. And it's ours.
It's a work in progress.
|Photo credit: Ivy Rupani|
Adam was incredulous! He couldn't believe that what had been his normal life experience living in a red light district in India might not be considered appropriate for his classmates to even hear about--because he had lived it.
Granted he has had an unusual upbringing. His life is a very interesting work in progress. I wonder what will happen with a boy who at age eleven already passionately points out to other boys the dark side of things that they casually say? They think in pre-teen mostly innocent innuendos, but he knows how disrespectful they really are to women, and to him women who have been objectified wear real flesh and bone with souls and personalities attached.
We all have our different journeys. We've all grown and expanded with our own histories, our own basket full of life lessons. Our own set of rooms that have been added on or remodeled over time.
Life is quite the ride.
Sometimes it's a roller coaster that we'd like to exit for a bit. Sometimes the fact that it's way beyond our control is scary--we're just passengers after all. Sometimes it seems like we're forever on that uphill climb waiting for the fun to begin. Sometimes we linger on that crest looking down below and feeling the fear before the experience carries us away and leaves us breathless.
It changes us.
Hannah has been participating in the art of Spoken Word for a while now. One line in one of her recent free form poems is this (imagine it being rhythmically spoken out loud):
"You've heard it been said that someone came alive after having been pronounced dead. The same can be said about my heavy heart and hardened head.
Changed. Once dead, now alive. Once a small, restricted house now expanded and full of character, living. Once an innocent child, now someone poised with a heart awake, a heart that sees through the haze into what really matters. A voice ready to speak.
I don't know about you, but I'm sure glad I'm on the ride. Glad I'm in the middle of this adventure called life. Glad that, "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?" (Ps. 27:1) And that, "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." (Deut. 31:8)
The ride really isn't up to me. Sure I can adjust myself in the seat, make sure my seat belt is buckled and hope for the best, but the Master's hand is on the control panel. He's at the wheel, the helm, the cockpit. He's directing the ride. And when I remember to look at the character of the Master Designer, I know that while the ride is full of twists and turns that He is in control.
Let the adventure, this ride called life, continue! And whatever is around the bend He will be right there with us, navigating it together.
|Photo credit: Heidi Cook|